The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 42

The chamber still vibrated with the echoes of judgment when the guards dragged them out.

Lucas, chained in silver, fought every step, his voice raw with rage. “You’ll regret this! All of you! Do you hear me? This isn’t the end!”

My father, Beta Maverick, twisted in the guards’ grip, his face twisted in fury. “Kira!” he spat, his voice like poison. “Ungrateful, filthy girl—you’ve destroyed your own blood!”

Darin stumbled, his wrists bound, the cocky smirk gone from his face at last. His eyes darted everywhere, avoiding mine, shame etched across every line of him.

My mother was silent, but the tears streaming down her face said enough. She didn’t look at me. Not once.

And Lyra—Lyra screamed. She writhed against the guards’ hold, her shrieks splitting the air. “This isn’t fair! She stole everything from me! She’s nothing! NOTHING!”

Her voice cracked into sobs as they dragged her through the doors, her hair wild around her face. For the first time, she didn’t look like my perfect twin. She looked broken.

The heavy doors slammed shut, and silence fell over the chamber.

One of the elders, Elder Jorn, rose to his feet. His voice carried easily, firm and final. “The Alpha Gathering has now concluded. For those who wish to remain, the Council has provided food, drink, and entertainment for the next forty-eight hours. Rest. Enjoy. Celebrate. You have earned it.”

A murmur rippled through the room as chairs scraped back, robes shifted, and the gathered Alphas began to file out. Some were already laughing again, relief spilling into their voices. Others walked out silently, thoughtful, as though the weight of what had just occurred pressed heavy on their minds.

I stood rooted in place, the air thick around me.

And then I felt him.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me back against a chest that radiated heat. My body melted before my mind caught up. Toren.

He pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling slowly, his grip tightening as if to remind me: I was his. I belonged.

“You did well,” he murmured, voice deep against my ear.

My throat caught. “I just… chose.”

“And that,” he said, turning me gently so my back met his chest and his arms caged me, “is everything.”

I looked up—and Elder Thora was there. Her silver gaze was softer now, her lips curved into a smile that made my chest ache.

“I am proud of you, darling,” she said. Her voice carried warmth, like moonlight wrapping around me. “You chose what you wanted. Not what anyone else wanted for you. That is the beginning of true freedom.”

Emotion tightened my chest. I wanted to cry, but instead I only nodded, words stuck somewhere deep in my throat.

Thora stepped closer, touching my cheek briefly with her cool, elegant hand. “Remember this, Kira: there will always be a place for you with me, and with the Elders, should you ever need it. You are not alone anymore.”

Toren’s arms flexed around me, protective, but his gaze was respectful as it landed on her. “Elder Thora,” he said, his voice careful, “is there somewhere near here where I might… help her shift? For the first time.”

Something flickered across Thora’s lips—amusement, maybe expectation. She smirked knowingly, as if she had been waiting for the question. “There are woods just beyond the resort gardens,” she replied. “Two acres, perhaps more. Enough room for a first attempt. But only if you shift with her, Alpha Toren. You must correct her if something goes wrong.”

Toren didn’t hesitate. “I don’t plan on leaving her alone. If I can help it, I never will.”

My heart stuttered at his certainty.

Thora turned her eyes back to me, her expression soft again. “Your future is bright, Kira. Brighter than you can imagine. I look forward to seeing what you will do with it.”

She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. The touch was so tender, so motherly, I thought my chest might break open.

Then she straightened, sweeping her gown as she turned away. Her silver figure moved through the room, and when she reached the door, she didn’t look back.

Sadness stabbed sharp in my ribs. I felt it rise before I could stop it, and it slipped out in a whisper. “I’ll miss her.”

Toren’s head dipped, his mouth finding the curve of my neck. He kissed me once, twice, each touch soft but claiming. His breath warmed my skin.

“She was the first person to show me kindness,” I admitted hoarsely. “To really… see me. For me. No one’s ever done that before.”

His hands squeezed me tighter, pulling me closer against his chest. His voice was a growl, low and possessive. “Then she saw what I see. What everyone will see, once you stop hiding.”

I trembled at his words, at the truth of them.

He pressed another kiss into my neck, lingering this time, his teeth grazing gently against my skin. My breath caught.

Then his voice dropped, a whisper only for me. “It’s time for you to find your true self, Starlight.”

My knees nearly gave out at the name, at the way he said it.

Before I could speak, he took my hand, his fingers lacing firmly with mine. “Come.”

He led me out, his stride purposeful, mine stumbling to keep up. Through the back entrance, where the heavy doors gave way to sunlight. The gardens stretched before us, lush and glowing with color. Roses climbed trellises, their fragrance sweet and dizzying. Fountains whispered, scattering silver droplets across the stones.

But Toren didn’t pause. He kept us moving, guiding me down the winding path until the flowers thinned, until the trimmed grass gave way to wild earth.

The treeline loomed ahead, dark and thick, branches reaching like arms. My heart thudded harder with every step.

Toren squeezed my hand once more, his thumb brushing my knuckles. “We’re almost there.”

The woods swallowed us, the air cooler, sharper. Leaves whispered in the breeze, and sunlight cut through in broken shafts, painting the forest floor in gold and shadow.

Here, there was no Council. No chamber. No lies.

Only the wild.

And him.

Toren stopped, turning to face me, his hands sliding from mine to rest at my waist. His eyes searched mine with a fire that made it hard to breathe.

“Are you ready, Starlight?” he asked, voice low, reverent.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say no. But all I could do was nod, because I was terrified—and I had never wanted anything more.