The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 87

The room froze.

Everything inside me went still—so still that even my wolf hesitated, unsure if what she’d just heard was real.

And then it hit.

Not sadness. Not heartbreak. Something darker. Something that burned.

Rage.

It crawled up my spine like wildfire, white-hot and violent, and for a moment, I thought I might actually lose control. My vision tunneled, the edges of the world fading until all I could see was him—and the words he’d just said replaying in my head like an echo that refused to die.

Another female.

Another mate.

No.

No.

He was mine.

Not in the way of ownership or possession—though the bond made it feel that way—but in the way of fate. Of destiny. Of something ancient and undeniable.

And someone dared to claim him?

Someone dared to try to take what the Moon Goddess herself had given me?

I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was already on my feet, the sheets sliding to the floor. The air around me hummed with the faintest shimmer of energy, my wolf prowling just beneath the surface.

I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned and stormed into the bathroom, the sound of their voices echoing behind me.

“Talon,” Tyson’s voice was sharp now, angry. “Why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?”

“How long has this been going on?” Toren demanded. “And who the fuck is she?”

The rush of water from the sink barely drowned them out as I splashed my face, trying to cool the fire burning beneath my skin. My reflection stared back at me—wild eyes, trembling hands, and a fury that no amount of reason could soothe.

I could hear Talon’s voice through the door, quieter but tight with shame. “It’s not what it sounds like. I didn’t know—she came to me weeks ago, claiming it happened during one of the missions, before we met Kira. I didn’t think it was real.”

“Didn’t think it was real?” Tyson barked. “She’s here, isn’t she? That sounds real to me.”

“She’s here?” Toren’s tone went cold.

There was a long pause, then Talon’s voice again—barely audible. “…Yes.”

I froze, halfway through tying the belt of my robe. The mirror wavered before me as that single word echoed through my mind.

She was here.

The anger that had been simmering turned molten.

I dressed quickly, pulling on the nearest black jeans and a fitted top, not caring that my hair was still a mess or that my hands were shaking. Every movement was fueled by instinct now, the urge to move, to confront, to end this.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, all three of them turned to look at me.

Talon’s face went pale. Toren and Tyson stood side by side, both wearing matching looks of fury and disbelief.

“What’s her name?” I asked, my voice steady even though my pulse thundered in my ears.

Talon stood slowly, shaking his head. “Kira, don’t. You can’t confront her. She’ll rip you apart before you can blink.”

Toren growled, low and dangerous. “She won’t even get the chance.”

Tyson’s arms crossed over his chest, his gaze cutting to his younger brother. “Start talking, Talon. Now.”

I stepped closer, ignoring the tension vibrating in the room. “What’s her name?”

Talon’s eyes closed briefly, his throat working. “Nicole.”

The name felt like venom on my tongue. I turned to Toren, whose face darkened instantly, his golden eyes narrowing.

“She’s here,” he said flatly, more a statement than a question.

Talon nodded.

Toren didn’t hesitate. “I’ll send for her immediately.”

Talon swore under his breath, reaching for me. “Kira, please—don’t do this. She’s unpredictable, dangerous. You can’t—”

“I won’t hurt her,” I said sharply, stepping back before he could touch me. “But I will get to the bottom of this.”

I met each of their gazes in turn—Talon’s regret, Tyson’s restrained fury, Toren’s simmering wrath—and let the words roll off my tongue like a promise carved in stone.

“Because I don’t share what’s mine.”

My voice dropped, cold and final.

“I’m done sharing.”

The air shifted the moment the door opened.

Jake, the second Beta, stepped in first — tall, broad, eyes sharp as he scanned the room for threat. But the instant he moved aside, she followed.

Nicole.

She was everything I wasn’t.

Where my skin was soft gold, kissed by the sun, hers was pale and cool-toned — almost porcelain, untouched and sharp under the lights. Her hair was straight and glossy black, not wild and wavy like mine, but sleek, disciplined, pulled back into a tight braid that screamed control. Her eyes were ice-blue, not warm amber; her lips a thin line painted blood red. Even her movements were exact, practiced — no hesitation, no uncertainty.

She looked like a weapon forged for display — beautiful, lethal, and cold.

The scent hit me next: sharp, cold, and metallic, like rain on steel. It didn’t smell like Talon. Not even close. There was no trace of his warmth, no echo of his energy or his wolf in her scent.

But when her gaze landed on him, she moved as though she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life.

“Talon!” she gasped, hurrying across the room with desperate, outstretched hands. “Where have you been?” Her voice cracked halfway through the question, and then her expression twisted, her nose wrinkling. “Why do you smell like another female?”

Her tone was half accusation, half heartbreak.

And the way she carried herself — the power behind each step, the poised weight of her stance — told me everything I needed to know.

A warrior.

That’s what Talon had meant. That’s why he’d said she’d rip me to pieces.

But I wasn’t the same weak girl I’d once been.

The flashbacks hit in a blur — my sister’s smirk, her lackeys’ laughter, the pantry door slamming shut. The cellar. The darkness. The fists. The helplessness.

No.

Not this time.

No more little miss shy wolf.

No more sitting quietly while others decided my fate.

No more being walked over, dismissed, ignored.

The wolf inside me uncoiled, wild and furious.

Before anyone could react, I was across the room.

Nicole didn’t even have time to blink.

My hand shot out, wrapping around her throat. Her eyes widened as I slammed her back into the wall with a crack that made dust rain from the plaster. Her feet left the floor as I lifted her higher, my fingers tightening around her windpipe.

She clawed at my arms, sharp nails raking deep enough to draw blood — crimson streaks that glistened against my skin. The pain barely registered.

“Why,” I hissed, my voice trembling with fury, “do you think you have a mate bond with my mate?”