Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 188: The Alpha’s Decision

**Peter's POV**

I left Theo without saying another word. I kept repeating our conversation over and over in my head. Our talk sat heavy on my shoulders. He was right—we couldn’t take risks with spies. But knowing that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling in my chest. It spread like smoke from a dying fire, slow and thick.

The palace halls were quiet at this hour. The torches flickered, their flames stretching long shadows on the stone walls. I walked without thinking, my feet moving through familiar paths. But my mind was stuck, going in circles with questions I couldn’t answer.

Sleep didn’t come that night. Every time I closed my eyes, memories pushed their way in—faces I had buried long ago, voices whispering doubt into the silence of my room. I turned onto my side, then my back, then my stomach, but I couldn’t find rest. The sheets felt too heavy. The air felt very hot and suffocating, making it difficult for me to breathe but of course, I had to endure until the morning.

By the time the first light of morning crept through my window, I had stopped trying at night and even at that nothing changed.

I washed in cold water, hoping it would wake me up. It didn’t. Getting dressed felt like a routine, each layer of clothing a shield against the exhaustion in my body. When I stepped into the hallway, the sun had already risen, golden light shining through the high windows.

The council was meeting early. That alone told me how serious this was.

As I entered the council room, the atmosphere felt tense. It wasn't just the conversation that was tense, but also the emotions in the air. People were suspicious, worried, and afraid, but no one was saying it out loud.

The room was filled with warriors, advisors, and strategists sitting around a long wooden table. Their faces were tense, and the table was covered in maps and papers, showing how much they had been planning.

Theo was already there, sitting near the head of the table. He looked calm, but I knew him well enough to see that he was tense, too.

At the far end of the table, the king sat with his fingers together under his chin. His eyes looked around the room until they landed on me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Then, he looked at the empty chair where the prisoner was supposed to sit.

“She will be brought in soon,” a guard announced, breaking the low murmurs of conversation.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the cold stone wall. I told myself I was just watching. Waiting.

Then the doors opened, and she stepped inside.

The air tightened.

She walked with confidence, her head held high, her steps steady. But I noticed the small signs beneath the act. The way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. The quick flick of her eyes as she studied the room, taking in everything, thinking, planning.

She was watching us as much as we were watching her.

The silence stretched as she was led to the chair. The guards stood beside her, their hands resting lightly on their swords.

The king wasted no time.

“What is your name?” His voice was calm but strong. It was not a question. It was a demand for truth.

She hesitated—just for a breath—before she answered. “Talia Rook.”

A lie.

I didn’t know how I knew. But I did.

The king raised an eyebrow, studying her.

“Where are you from?”

She lifted her chin. “A small village near the northern border. It was destroyed months ago.”

A half-truth.

A murmur spread through the council. A destroyed village meant no one could confirm her story. Convenient. Too convenient.

Theo leaned forward slightly, his expression blank. “How did you learn to fight?”

Her lips parted, but she took a moment too long to answer. Just a fraction of a second.

“My best friend taught me,” she finally said. “He trained under a warrior and passed that knowledge to me.”

More murmurs. This time, doubtful.

The king didn’t look away. “And where is this best friend now?”

This time, she didn’t hesitate. “Dead.”

A long silence followed.

The king exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair. He studied her carefully, thinking.

“Your skills are not those of a beginner,” he finally said. “They are controlled. Precise. That does not happen just from secondhand lessons.”

Her jaw tensed. “I trained every day. For years.”

An older warrior, a man with more battle scars than most—spoke up. “You move like a soldier.” His voice was rough. Skeptical. “Like someone who has seen war.”

“I fought to survive.” She didn’t blink. “Is that not a battle?”

Some council members exchanged glances.

I didn’t say anything. I just watched. Waiting for a mistake. A crack in her careful mask.

It never came.

The king was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “You are either a very good liar, or you are telling the truth. Either way, we have heard enough.”

For the first time, something flickered across her face. Relief. It was quick, almost too fast to catch. But I saw it.

“You will remain under watch," the king continued. “But you will begin training with the guards tomorrow. Under scrutiny.”

She barely moved, but I caught the slight change in her posture—the way her shoulders dropped just a little in relief. I knew that she had expected worse.

The king’s eyes sharpened. “Again, your actions will decide if you belong here, Talia Rook.” His voice was calm, but firm. “Make wise choices.”

She gave a small nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The room felt a little more relaxed. The tension eased up slightly. She turned to leave, and the guards moved out of her way.

Then, our eyes met. Just for a moment. Something shifted inside my chest. That feeling I'd been trying to ignore was still there. It was a sense of amiliarity like I knew her. But that was impossible because I was certain I'd never seen her before.