The Silent Luna's Trial (Maple and Finn) novel Chapter 48

Chapter 3

For a brief moment, Blake’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing with a storm of emotions. Then, without warning, a cruel, mocking laugh escaped his lips, sharp and bitter.

“Lena, you’ll stoop to any lie, won’t you?” he sneered. “Just because you found out about Hannah’s pregnancy today, you’re spinning this ridiculous story?”

He shoved himself off the bed with a force that made the frame creak, then strode toward the door without sparing me another glance.

But as his hand gripped the doorknob, he hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes.

“You’re the one who refuses to share my bed. Don’t go whining to Grandpa about neglect—it only makes me despise you more.”

And with that, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

The room fell into an oppressive silence, thick and suffocating.

I stumbled toward the bathroom, my hands trembling as I squeezed toothpaste onto my fingers and scrubbed my lips raw, desperate to erase the lingering taste of him—the bitterness, the hurt, the betrayal.

Once, Blake and I had shared a love that felt unbreakable.

I remember my eighteenth birthday vividly—the day my wolf awakened. We found each other at the Mate Gathering, a moment etched forever in my heart.

His golden eyes shone with joy, warm and bright like the summer sun. His voice was soft, tender.

“Mate. You’re my mate.”

Those were the sweetest days, filled with hope and promise. Though I had been part of the Whitemoon Pack for years, the ache of losing my birth family clung to me like a shadow, making me feel like an outsider—until Blake came into my life.

His gaze, warm and golden like honey, held a love so fierce and certain it burned away every doubt.

In those quiet, fragile moments between heartbeats, I knew—my soul had finally found its true home.

The Whitemoon Pack wasn’t just a refuge anymore; it was the fertile ground where my roots would grow deep, where my story would intertwine with its legacy.

Even now, the memory of that happiness sends delicate tremors through me—like snowflakes dancing on the wind, fragile yet dazzling all at once.

For years after that, he adored me. I gave him everything in return.

But when we turned twenty-two, everything changed. Miles summoned us both before him.

“It’s time to seal the bond,” he said firmly. “Lena, your grandfather saved my life. Fate has already chosen you for Blake. It’s perfect.”

That night, Blake’s love disappeared like smoke drifting away in the wind.

No explanations. No farewells.

Only coldness.

A year after our mating ceremony, I discovered I was pregnant. And Blake?

He barely came home, except for those times he brought that woman, Hannah, into our own bed.

I screamed. I begged. I demanded answers.

But he only looked at me as if I were crazy.

“You got what you wanted. You’re Luna. You bore my heirs. What else is there to cry about?”

“Stop playing the victim. You disgust me. Hannah would never be as unreasonable as you.”

So I stopped asking.

I convinced myself I could live with the fact that the love between Blake and me was gone. Cruel, but true—that was how I forced peace back into my life.

I poured all my love into our daughters instead. They became my light. My reason to keep going.

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