Surrender To Us, Our Luna (One Luna, Four Alphas) novel Chapter 338

Chapter 338: 338-I Forgive You

Clementine:

I stood frozen and unable to speak as my father stared me in the eye before pulling the hoodie back on.

I stepped back, unsteady, until Ian grabbed me and held me still.

My father began to whisper again. I could not understand what he was doing or why the sound felt so heavy.

Behind me, the others began to repeat the same whispering.

Ian shook me, trying to bring me back, reminding me that if we did not take him down now, he would cause more chaos.

I threw a weak punch at the Whisperer. He caught my wrist, but Ian stepped in and struck the side of his head.

There was no face to hit, but the force pushed his body to one side.

The Whisperer released another wave of wind at both of us.

We planted our feet and leaned forward. Something about him felt weaker now.

His attacks were slower. His movements lacked the force he had used earlier.

I kept punching him to stop him from whispering again because the others had already begun to fall into it once more.

I could not stop myself from thinking about his missing face. It felt like shame.

The kind people talk about when they say they cannot show their face anywhere.

It crossed my mind that it could have been guilt or disgrace. Then it clicked.

The others had spoken their guilt and waited for forgiveness. Maybe that had weakened him.

Ian hit him in the stomach, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I grabbed the Whisperer’s hoodie again and pulled it back.

His face appeared, and I hit his knee. He fell to the side and hit the ground with a hard thud.

I moved toward his legs and knelt down so I could look at him.

I swallowed hard.

"What are you guilty of?" I asked.

His cold expression softened. Tears formed in his eyes.

"Tell me. What are you guilty of?" I shouted, feeling Ian step behind me.

He placed his hands on my elbows to show me he was there.

Haiden broke free from the whispering and ran toward my father.

My father raised his hand and sent a blast of wind that threw Haiden across the floor.

He did not do the same to me. I wondered if it had something to do with me. If the only guilt he carried was tied to me.

"Tell me what you are guilty of," I said, my voice shaking. "Are you guilty of hurting all those women and taking them from their families? Are you guilty of treating me the wrong way? Of watching everyone bully me? Of sending me here to die? Of wishing I had died in the north? Tell me something. Tell me you are guilty of anything."

I kicked his legs and knees. I felt small again. I felt like the child who had wanted a father who did not drag bodies across the floor while I watched.

He finally answered.

"I am guilty of not killing you when you were born."

Everything around me went silent. I stared at his face, unable to breathe. That was what he felt guilty for. Of Not ending me sooner.

"If I had, I would not have to deal with such shame. I wish I had killed you sooner," my father repeated, louder, as if he thought I had not heard him.

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