The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 106

Waking up hurt.

Not the kind of ache that comes from a bad night’s sleep, but the kind that sinks deep into your bones and settles there—heavy, throbbing, relentless. Every breath scraped my lungs like glass, every twitch of a muscle sent sparks of agony rippling beneath my skin. It felt like my body wasn’t mine anymore—like I’d borrowed too much pain and forgot how to give it back.

I groaned softly, trying to roll onto my side, but the movement sent a sharp, fiery stab up my ribs.

“Easy,” came Tyson’s voice, low and urgent.

He was suddenly there—so close I could feel the warmth of him before I even opened my eyes. His hands were steady but gentle as he helped me sit up, sliding a pillow behind my back.

“Hey, slow down,” he murmured, pressing a cool glass of water into my shaking hands. “Small sips. You’re still dehydrated.”

I blinked against the dim light. The room around us was small but clean—warm wood walls, soft white curtains fluttering with the morning breeze, faint hints of lavender in the air. The bed beneath me was massive, soft, nothing like the motel mattresses or cold floors I’d been used to.

“Where… where are we?” My voice was hoarse, weak.

Tyson gave me a small, relieved smile. “Home. The estate. You’ve been out for four days, Kira.”

Four. Days.

I froze, the words sinking in like stones in my stomach. “Four days?”

“Yeah.” He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering. “Toren carried you the whole way. We barely got here before nightfall on the fourth day. You scared the hell out of us.”

His voice cracked on that last part, so soft I almost didn’t catch it.

I tried to remember—but everything after the explosion was a blur of blood and fire.

“How—how bad was it?” I whispered.

Tyson hesitated, his eyes dropping for just a moment before meeting mine again. “Bad. You took on too much. You healed ten people, Kira. Ten. You should’ve been dead.”

My stomach twisted. “Toren?”

“He’s fine. You saved him.” He squeezed my hand gently. “They’re all fine, thanks to you.”

But his words didn’t comfort me. They made the guilt worse.

The memories crashed over me all at once—the smoke, the screams, Toren’s blood on my hands. My throat tightened as tears stung my eyes.

“I did this,” I whispered.

Tyson frowned. “What?”

“It’s my fault,” I said, louder this time, the words spilling out faster than I could stop them. “Toren got hurt because of me. The SUV exploded because of me. Lucas is after you—after all of you—because of me.”

“Kira—”

“No!” I snapped, the tears falling now. “Don’t you get it? Everything bad that’s happened since you met me—it’s all because of me. My pack. My mother. My sister. Everything I touch falls apart!”

I couldn’t breathe. The walls felt too close. My chest constricted, the pain returning with every shaky inhale.

Tyson reached for me, but I pulled away, pressing my hands over my face as a sob tore free. “It’s all my fault…”

And then his hands were on mine again—firm, grounding, refusing to let me hide.

“Stop,” he said softly, but there was steel beneath his tone. “Look at me.”

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“Kira.”

The way he said my name—low, commanding, filled with something raw—made me finally meet his gaze. His golden-brown eyes weren’t angry. They were full of something else entirely. Pain. Understanding.

He took my hands in his and pressed his lips against my knuckles, one by one, lingering with every kiss.

“You didn’t force Lucas to become the monster he is,” he said quietly. “You didn’t force your mother to treat you like that. You didn’t make your sister cruel. You didn’t cause this.”

I shook my head, tears still falling. “But if I hadn’t—”

He squeezed my hands tighter, his voice rising—not in anger, but in conviction.

“If you hadn’t fought back, Kira, Toren would be dead. Half our warriors would be gone. You think that’s destruction?” He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching mine. “That’s survival. You did what Alphas do. You protected your pack.”

“But I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, his voice cracking now. “You’re our Luna. You’re my mate. And I’ll be damned if I let you carry guilt for saving lives.”

The room went still. His words hit harder than any wound I’d taken.

He sighed then, his expression softening, thumb brushing away the tear that slid down my cheek. “You’ve spent your whole life thinking you were the problem. But you’re not, Kira. You’re the reason we’re still standing.”

Tyson’s forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mingling—his steady and warm, mine trembling and uneven. The world around us began to blur, colors fading into gray until only the heat of him remained. My pulse roared in my ears, too loud, too heavy, and then—

Everything went dark.

Not empty darkness, but living, breathing shadows. They pulsed and rippled like smoke caught in the wind.

I knew this place now. The space between bonds.

The air hummed with energy, thick and electric. Before me, glowing threads shimmered and danced, stretching into the void—living lines of power connecting hearts and souls.

The first one I saw was Toren’s. His bond burned bright, a deep molten gold, steady and unyielding. It pulsed with warmth, power, and an almost tangible love that wrapped around me like a protective shield. Just looking at it filled my chest with a fierce ache. That was Toren—strong, constant, unshakable.

But beside it… another light flickered.

This one wasn’t steady. It sparked violently, arcs of energy snapping and hissing like lightning caught in a storm. Tyson. His bond was raw, unstable—wild in the way he was, untamed and unpredictable, yet filled with something heartbreakingly sincere.

The thread trembled as if unsure I’d touch it.

Slowly, almost reverently, I reached out. My fingers brushed the edge of that crackling light—and the moment I made contact, my entire body came alive.

It wasn’t just warmth this time. It was fire.

A surge of energy shot through me, fierce and consuming. I gasped, every nerve in my body igniting all at once. It wasn’t pain—it was too much. His emotions flooded me in a rush: the constant pull of dominance, the sharp edge of loyalty, the guilt he hid behind jokes, and underneath it all—the tenderness he was too afraid to show.

Love. Real, wild, and unrefined.

His power poured through me like a river breaking its dam, filling every crack I hadn’t realized was still empty. My bones vibrated with it, my heartbeat synced to his until I couldn’t tell where mine ended and his began.

The darkness around us shifted—light pouring from our joined bond, expanding, solidifying, sealing itself in a blinding flash of heat and golden light.

The storm quieted.