Ch. I Refuse to Be Your Luna 353 I Refuse to Be Your Luna 353

Chapter 353 A Different Kind Of Family 

Lady Flourish POV 

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Amara was still arguing with Cheryl about the pastries when I walked into the dining room the next morning. 

“You cannot judge the entire market by one stall,” Cheryl insisted. 

“I bought from three stalls. Two were better than the kitchen’s.” 

I stopped beside the table. “Should I be worried about what’s happening to my kitchen?” 

Amara looked up, unsure for a moment whether I was serious. Then she saw my smile and laughed. 

“Try them before you defend the kitchen,” she said, pushing a small plate toward me. 

I took one. It was good, though I wasn’t going to admit Amara might have a point until I’d finished eating. 

Watching them gave me an idea. Amara was growing comfortable with Cheryl, but most people at the estate still treated her differently once they learned of her connection to the First Alpha bloodline. 

Some were careful around her, others were openly curious, and a few spoke as if every conversation needed special handling. 

I wanted her to meet people who would see her first. 

“Would you like to spend some time with a few people I trust?” 

Amara set down her pastry. “Who?” 

“Rhys, Elder Darego, and two members of Damian’s pack. I work with them, and you to tell them anything about your past.” 

don’t have 

“Will they ask questions?” 

“They might. Answer what you’re comfortable with, and I’ll make sure nobody pressures you.” 

She considered it. “All right. But I don’t want another meeting about the bloodline.” 

“Then we’ll make sure it isn’t one.” 

I arranged for everyone to meet in the smaller sitting room that afternoon. Rhys arrived first 

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Chapter 353 A Different Kind Of Family 

with a folder he’d meant to discuss with me. 

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When I told him this wasn’t a work meeting, he put it aside without complaint. 

Elder Darego came next. His seat on the High Healer Council meant most wolves treated him formally, and his knowledge of the bloodline made him one of the few who understood Amara’s situation. 

I had worried his presence might make her feel examined, but he gave her a simple nod and asked if she wanted tea. 

She chose water. 

Two Dartwood warriors arrived soon after. Taren had recovered from the injury he took near the eastern road, and Jessa worked with the estate’s patrol team and had helped review the reports on the watcher outside our wards. I introduced everyone and took the seat beside 

Amara. 

For the first few minutes the talk stayed ordinary. Rhys complained about the paperwork involved in updating the emergency network, and Jessa told him he’d complain less if he stopped sending forms back over the date format. 

“I sent them back because the dates were inconsistent.” 

“You sent one back because the heading was in the wrong place.” 

“It was a very important heading.” 

Amara laughed into her glass. 

Taren asked whether she’d visited the town yet. When she said she’d gone with Cheryl, he asked which market and recommended a smaller one near the training grounds, where he claimed the fruit was better. 

Jessa disagreed and started listing the reasons he was wrong. 

Nobody asked about her missing memories or why Garret had kept her existence secret. 

They talked about food, the town, and the guards’ trouble with a training schedule that kept changing. 

After a while Amara leaned back in her chair. Her shoulders had loosened, and she had stopped looking at me before every answer. 

Then Rhys mentioned the bloodline network. 

“We’ve been checking the old records since the overseas flare. Some of the connections are 

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: 

older than our current system, so it’ll take time to establish which ones still work.” 

Amara’s fingers tightened around her glass. 

Rhys noticed and stopped. “Sorry. We don’t have to discuss that.” 

“You can talk about it. I just don’t want every conversation to become about me.” 

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“I understand. The network is our responsibility too. You don’t have to be involved unless you choose to be.” 

She studied him, apparently checking whether he meant it. Then she asked how F-Tech kept records across so many territories without direct control over the packs. 

Rhys explained the system’s history, including the trouble caused by outdated contacts and inactive channels. 

He never turned it into a lesson about her role, and when she asked something he couldn’t answer, he simply said he didn’t know. 

That seemed to surprise her more than anything. 

“You can just say that?” 

Rhys frowned. “Of course. Would you prefer I invent an answer?” 

“No.” She laughed. “I’m just not used to people admitting it.” 

Elder Darego joined in, saying even experienced healers had to accept the limits of what they 

knew. 

He talked about asking questions without pretending to have every answer, then asked whether she’d found a physician she felt comfortable with. 

“I have. I just don’t like being asked to describe every sensation I feel through the bloodline connection.” 

“Then tell the physician that. Your cooperation matters, but so does your comfort. Tests should answer questions, not make you feel you’ve lost control of your own body.” 

Amara nodded slowly. Darego knew exactly what she was, yet he hadn’t treated her as a rare object or a problem to solve. 

He spoke to her the way he would have spoken to any young wolf who needed medical guidance. 

The gathering lasted another hour. Jessa invited her to watch a training session later in the 

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week, Taren offered to show her the safest walking route through the grounds, and Rhys promised to send information about F-Tech only if she wanted it. 

When the others began leaving, Amara stayed beside me. 

“Are they always like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“They didn’t keep watching to see whether I’d do something important. Nobody whispered, and nobody acted like I’d break if they said the wrong thing.” 

I rested my hand over hers. “They’re people I trust. I wanted you to meet them without feeling you had to prove anything.” 

She looked toward the doorway where Rhys and the others had gone. “I liked it. I didn’t have to explain who I was before they could talk to me.” 

“Then we’ll do it again.” 

She smiled, and this time she didn’t look to me for reassurance first. 

That evening Cheryl found us in the sitting room and asked whether Amara wanted to join her for dinner with a few friends from the estate. Amara agreed before I could answer for her. 

I watched them leave together, already debating what to eat. For once my sister was going somewhere because she wanted to, not because the bloodline required it. 

She was learning she could belong to a family without being treated as a secret, a duty, or a symbol of something bigger than herself. 

I wanted her to have as much of that life as she chose. 

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