Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 204: A Wanderer And A Fighter

Tiana's POV

The moment I stepped onto the training grounds the next day, I knew something was wrong.

Peter was already there, his sword in hand, his stance rigid. He wasn’t fighting yet, just standing off to the side, watching the others train. But the second his eyes met mine...

His shoulders tensed. His grip on his sword tightened ever so slightly. His face was blank—too blank. Then, just as quickly, he looked away and walked off, like last night had never happened.

Like he hadn’t kissed me in a way that was desperate, hungry, burning.

Like I hadn’t kissed him back.

I swallowed hard. The ghost of his touch still clung to my skin, his breath still tangled with mine. I could still hear the way he had murmured my name against my lips, the way his hands had trembled when they held me.

And now? Now he wouldn’t even look at me.

Good. That was how it had to be.

I curled my fingers into fists, forcing myself to shake it off. I had bigger things to worry about than a stolen moment in the dark.

The training yard was alive with movement. Warriors clashed, their grunts and battle cries filling the air. Boots kicked up dirt, swords rang against shields, and the sharp clang of metal on metal sent vibrations through the ground. Shadowclaw’s best fighters were here, preparing for war, sharpening their skills.

I should have been watching them. I should have been focusing on the drills, assessing the warriors around me, and making sure I wasn’t falling behind.

Instead, my attention was drawn to one person.

Theo.

I had known this moment would come. I had prepared for it. I had told myself, over and over, that I was ready.

But that had been a lie.

Theo was sharp—too sharp. He had always been that way. Back when we were together, it had been a skill I admired. A skill I had even loved. He saw things others didn’t. He connected dots no one else even noticed.

And now, that skill made him dangerous.

He and his father had already been suspicious of me once. I had barely escaped that unscathed. If I wasn’t careful, Theo would start digging again.

And this time, I might not be able to stop him.

I remembered the last time we had spoken. The way his gaze had pinned me in place, sharp as a dagger pressed to my throat. The way he had studied me, waiting for me to slip up.

Theo never spoke without purpose. He never looked without reason.

One mistake. One wrong step. And he would unravel everything.

And I had too much to lose.

My revenge.

The truth about my death.

The man from the bridge.

I couldn’t afford to let Theo anywhere near my secrets.

I adjusted my hood, keeping my face partially obscured, trying to disappear into the crowd and then Elara walked in.

I sucked in a breath, steadying myself.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Elara moved through the yard like she owned it. She didn’t need to raise her voice or demand attention—people just noticed her. Long, dark hair framed her sharp features, her golden eyes cool and assessing.

She was Erika’s stepsister.

My heart pounded harder.

If she looked too closely or if she saw something familiar in my face huh.

It will be over.

I stepped back, slipping behind a group of warriors, careful and deliberate. But even from a distance, I could feel her presence pressing in on me.

Elara noticed things.

And if she lingered, if she hesitated for even a second, if she tilted her head just slightly in curiosity, it wouldn’t take long before she started to wonder why I felt… known.

She and Erika had never been close. But blood was blood.

Would she see it?

Would she recognize me?

No. I couldn’t let that happen.

I forced myself to focus on the fight in front of me.

Peter and Theo.

They fought like two warriors who had done this many times before. Their movements were smooth, quick, and deadly. They didn't fight like enemies; they fought like two men who knew each other's moves.

Peter fought wildly, his sword swinging, full of emotion. But this wasn't about Theo; it was about me and what happened last night. Theo, on the other hand, was calm and controlled, like ice. He countered Peter's blows easily.

What scared me, though, was that Theo wasn't just fighting; he was also watching me. I could feel his awareness reaching out, even as he dodged Peter's attacks.

The sound of their swords clashing echoed through the yard, silencing everything else. For a moment, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

Then, without warning, Theo stepped back and lowered his sword. "You're distracted," he said calmly. "Fix whatever's going on in your head before it gets you killed."

Peter's jaw clenched. "I'm fine." Theo didn't look like he believed Peter, but he let it go.

Then he turned to me. "Talia."

My stomach twisted.

Shit.

I wiped my brow, forcing my face into a neutral expression. I couldn’t let him see how much his attention unsettled me.

“Yes?”

Theo studied me. His eyes were heavier than they should have been, as if he was weighing something, debating.

“You fight too well for a palace recruit,” he said, voice careful. “Where did you train?”

I smiled, light and easy. “Here and there. And from my friend who died as well."

Something flickered in his gaze.

And then, before I could react, he said the words I had been dreading.

“I need the truth about who you are.”

The ground felt unsteady beneath me.

I forced myself to stay still. To breathe evenly. I had rehearsed this moment over and over. If it ever came to this, I told myself, I could lie.

So I did.

“I already told you who I am,” I said smoothly. “Talia Rook. A wanderer. A fighter. I came here looking for a purpose.”