His Rogue Luna is a Princess (Mia and Derek) novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44

DEREK

The envelope was waiting for me when I returned to my office, a plain, unmarked thing sitting at the center of my desk.

I had been expecting reports from my intelligence network, updates on the rogue factions, or perhaps another denial from Moonstone about a pre–summit meeting. But this was something else. There was no scent on the paper, no name scrawled across the front. Just an anonymous delivery placed directly where I would see it.

I sat, fingers resting against the edge of the envelope, debating whether to open it. Something told me I should burn it instead. Instead, I slid my finger beneath the seal and pried it open.

Inside was a single piece of paper, folded once. The handwriting was unfamiliar, slanted, and sharp, but the message was clear.

If you want to know what happened to Elena, perhaps you should look at your own pack.

The breath stalled in my chest. I read it again. And again.

The words didn’t change, but their meaning unraveled like a slow poison in my veins.

I had spent the last six years believing Elena’s accident had been a rogue attack. That she had been ambushed, thrown from that cliff, and left for dead. It had been the only

explanation that made sense.

But this this suggested something else entirely. Something I had never considered.

I gritted my teeth, scanning the page for anything that might tell me who had sent it. There was nothing. No signature, no insignia, no way to trace it. It was just a whisper in the dark.

And yet, I couldn’t ignore it.

I set the letter down carefully, but my hands curled into fists against my desk. If there was

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Chapter 44

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truth in this message–if someone in Silverclaw had been involved in Elena’s attack–I would find out. And I would make them pay.

But why now? Why, after all this time, was someone sending me this?

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to think. This could be a distraction. A manipulation. It

could be someone trying to pull my focus away from the rogue threats, the growing instability in the region.

And yet, deep in my gut, something told me it wasn’t a lie. The thought sent a sharp pulse of anger through me, a slow and steady burn.

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I had let Elena go once. Had convinced myself she was better off without me. But if this

message was true, if my pack had a hand in what happened to her-

I pushed away from my desk and stood, raking a hand through my hair. I needed answers.

But first I needed a distraction.

***

The Packhouse dining room was dimly lit, the glow of the overhead lights casting golden reflections across the polished hardwood floor. The sound of low conversation and clinking glasses hummed around me, but I wasn’t listening.

I had come here because I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. Because for the first

time in a long time, I wasn’t sure what I knew anymore.

And that uncertainty was dangerous.

I grabbed a low–ball glass and poured myself a finger of whiskey from the running board. I

was thinking that a drink with some of my warriors might distract me. Maybe even a run.

And then…

“Derek.”

I turned at the sound of my name, my jaw tightening the moment I saw her.

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Cassandra.

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She was draped in deep red, the color too bold, too deliberate. Her hair was curled over one

shoulder, her lips painted the same shade as her dress.

“You’re pretty dressed up for a Wednesday night,” I said.

She shrugged demurely, somehow managing to look coquettish and not the least bit out of

place amongst some of the warriors and pack members that sat around the table.

She looked like temptation. Like a choice I should never make. And yet, I didn’t move away when she stepped closer.

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“Why do you look like you’re about to kill someone?” she murmured, tilting her head as she studied me. “Or is that just your usual expression these days?”

I didn’t answer.

Cassandra had always been observant. It was one of her more dangerous qualities. She’d certainly used it against me in the past.

She smiled, slow and knowing. “Let me guess. Elena?”

The name sent something sharp through me, but I refused to react. She didn’t need

confirmation. She already knew.

When she left to go on that trip around the world that was meant to be an engagement trip for the two of us–Joe and Caroline had been right about that–she’d left me when my world had been turned upside down by my father’s death. Spoiled by the attention and gifts I’d lavished her with for years, she’d demanded I come with her and flounced off when I’d informed her that I was unable and unwilling to do any such thing.

I knew that she’d expected me to come chasing after her–I always had, after all–but my father’s death had broken something in me, and I’d felt almost a relief to finally be on my

own.

Then Elena had come. And gone.

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