The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 58

Elder Thora crouched in front of me, her hands steady as she guided me upright. My legs trembled, weak from the dislocation and the scream that had torn through me, but her grip was firm—reassuring.

“Easy, child,” she murmured, as her butler moved closer. He moved with brisk efficiency, immediately shrugging out of his dark coat. Without a word, he draped it around my shoulders, heavy and warm, the scent of cedar clinging to the fabric. I pulled it tighter, grateful for the weight, for the barrier it gave me.

Elder Selene’s sharp voice cut across the room. “Summon her mother. Now.”

Ice slid down my spine. My head snapped up, panic flooding me. “No.” My voice came out too fast, too brittle. “I don’t want to see her. Not here. Not ever again.”

Selene’s expression didn’t soften, not even a little. “Too bad,” she said, her tone clipped and final. “This goes beyond you now. If there’s truth to these suspicions, then records have been falsified. That is a matter for the entire Council.”

The words made my stomach twist. Falsified records. My entire life—reduced to a forged document?

Elder Thora stood slowly, her presence filling the room as she turned to Toren and Talon. “One of you needs to contact your father immediately. If this is what I fear, his presence is required. This cannot be left to whispers.”

Talon’s jaw clenched. He pulled out his phone, muttering, “I’ll do it.” Stepping away from the group, he pressed the device to his ear, his posture taut with tension.

Meanwhile, Thora and Selene exchanged looks, speaking low but not so low I couldn’t hear.

“If they are not twins,” Thora said carefully, “then the girl has been forced into a role that was never hers.”

Selene folded her arms, gaze sharp. “Or worse—her entire identity has been buried under another’s shadow.”

Thora’s lips tightened. “There are other possibilities. Twins by blood but not by bond. Or perhaps… half-siblings raised under a lie.”

Selene’s reply was bitter, her eyes flicking toward me. “Either way, someone has played the Council for fools.”

Before Thora could answer, the heavy doors opened, and the Council’s guards stepped inside. Between them, her hands restrained at her sides but her chin lifted arrogantly, was my mother.

I couldn’t breathe.

My instincts screamed, and before I even realized what I was doing, I rushed forward. Straight into Toren’s arms. He caught me without hesitation, wrapping me tight against him, his body shielding me from her as her glare speared into me like a dagger.

The urge to scream bubbled in my chest again, sharp and violent, but there was something else too—something darker, coiling like smoke at the edges of my mind. Something deadly. Something I knew would get me in trouble if I let it slip free.

I bit it back, clinging to Toren instead.

My mother approached the Elders with stiff steps. She bowed—barely—and her voice came out clipped and dripping with venom. “Why was I summoned to a traitor’s room?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the guards shifted uneasily.

Finally, Selene’s voice rang out, clear and sharp. “Tell me the truth. Are Lyra and Kira twins?”

“Yes,” my mother snapped immediately. Too quickly.

My stomach twisted. I knew that tone. The tone she used when she was already covering a lie.

Elder Thora’s eyes narrowed. “If that were true, Alpha Toren should have felt a connection to both. Yet he does not. That is a problem.”

My mother’s lips curled into a sneer. “Or perhaps Alpha Toren is lying.”

Rage shot through me like fire licking my veins. My vision blurred with red, and for a split second I was no longer in that hotel room. I was twelve years old again, standing in the den, pleading with her to believe me. Lyra stole the money. I saw her.

And my mother’s voice had cut me down. Stop lying, Kira. You embarrass this family enough.

The snap inside me was sharp, final. I tore myself from Toren’s arms and stepped forward, my glare pinning her in place.

“Enough,” I hissed. My voice was steady, deadly calm. “Enough lies. Enough excuses. For once in your miserable life, stop causing problems for everyone else. Tell the truth. Maybe then, when death finally comes knocking, hell won’t be so bad for you.”

Her face went pale.

I tilted my head, letting a smile curve sharp and humorless. “Although, knowing you, even hell might ask for a refund.”

A ripple of shock passed through the room. Even the guards looked startled. My mother actually stepped back, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.

She cleared her throat roughly and turned back to Elder Thora, no longer meeting my eyes. “Lyra and Kira are not twins,” she said at last, her voice strained. “They are half-sisters. Kira’s father was… a one-night stand. I do not know his name.”

The room went still.

The lie unraveled, the truth laid bare. My heart slammed in my chest, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

Half-sisters. Not twins.

I could feel my pulse in my throat as if it were a second heartbeat. The room held its breath—Elder Thora at my side, Toren’s heat a steady wall behind me, Talon rigid and watchful. My mother’s face was a mask of practiced calm, but her eyes flicked away from me like an animal avoiding its own reflection.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, not sure if I was asking for an answer or an apology. The words spilled out hot, raw. “Why hide it? Why lie about Lyra and me our whole lives?”

For a beat she said nothing. For a beat I thought she might finally feel something—remorse, shame, anything human. Instead the air thickened with her silence.

Elder Thora cleared her throat, a soft but unmistakable nudge. “I would like to hear this too,” she said, voice even. “Speak plainly.”

My mother turned to me at last. Her expression was cold, like glass polished to a blade. “You were a mistake,” she said without inflection. “A one–night stand. You should never have been born.”

The words hit like a physical thing. I staggered as if struck. “What—” I started, then the sentence jagged off. “How could you say that?”

She shrugged, like it was weather she’d endured. “You were never what I wanted. Lyra was always the favored child. You were… inconvenient.” There was no shame in her tone, only the casual cruelty of someone who’d practiced it until the edges were smooth.

“You ruined my life,” she continued, raw venom now. “You remind me of him every single day. My mate will not touch me. He looks through me unless I parade Lyra. It is because of you—your existence makes him recoil. You are a stain on my life and a constant reminder of my shame.”

My hands curled into fists until my nails bit my palms. “How is that my fault?” I spit. “I didn’t choose to be born. I didn’t choose your men. I didn’t choose anything. You made those choices. You want to blame me because it’s easier than facing what you did.”