Ch. The Rejected Luna’s Secret 100 The Rejected Luna’s Secret 100

Chapter 18 

Selene’s POV 

The next morning, just as the pale light of Yoria’s dawn crept over the horizon, I found myself staring at two very familiar faces. 

My parents-Elder Hartwell and Luna Hartwell of the Whitestone Pack-stood before me, looking every bit as stern and exhausted as I remembered. 

I froze, disbelief tightening my throat. 

Without thinking, I stumbled forward and threw my arms around them, burying my face against 

my mother’s shoulder. 

Their scent, warm and grounding, wrapped around me like a balm, loosening the knot inside my 

chest. 

I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until that moment. 

For a few heartbeats, none of us spoke. 

Then, just as abruptly, my mother pulled back, her expression shifting into a fierce glare. 

“And here I thought you’d grown wings,” she said, crossing her arms. “Running off to Yoria to join the Pack Syndicate Research Center, changing your contact imprint, and not even telling your own parents?” 

I blinked, guilt creeping into my chest. 

“I-“I started. 

She wasn’t finished. 

“If we hadn’t tracked you down ourselves, how long were you planning to hide from us, little wolf?” 

My father stood beside her, arms folded, wearing the same disapproving look. 

I lowered my gaze, feeling every bit like a pup caught sneaking out of the den. 

The truth was, when I had decided to follow Ethan to Yoria and restart my research career, I hadn’t asked for anyone’s permission. 

Especially not my parents’. 

I knew they loved me. 

I also knew how they thought. 

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After everything that had happened, they would have tried to keep me close, to convince me that settling down again-this time with someone safer, someone more stable-was the better path 

I twisted the hem of my coat between my fingers. 

After a long moment, I mumbled, “I don’t want to bond again.” 

Both of them stiffened. 

“I want to finish what I started,” I continued, my voice growing steadier. “I want to live for myself 

this time. Not for a title, or a house, or a name.” 

Silence fell. 

Then my father sighed heavily. 

He stepped closer and placed a rough, calloused hand on my shoulder. 

“Fine,” he said, squeezing gently. 

“If that’s what you want, then it’s what you’ll have.” 

I looked up, startled. 

He offered a tired but genuine smile. 

“It won’t be easy,” he said. “The Pack path you’ve chosen will be long. Hard. But if you love it, if it’s yours-then no one can take it from you.” 

My mother’s hand brushed through my hair, gentle and comforting. 

“Just promise us,” she said softly, “that you’ll take care of yourself. That you’ll be kind to yourself, 

little wolf.” 

I nodded quickly, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes. 

“I will,” I whispered. 

“I promise.” 

Behind us, footsteps echoed lightly against the paved walkway. 

I turned just as Ethan Caldwell approached, a datapad tucked under one arm, a polite but curious 

look on his face. 

He slowed when he saw my parents, hesitating just a moment before stepping forward. 

My mother raised an eyebrow. 

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My father’s nostrils flared slightly, assessing. 

I hid a small laugh behind my hand. 

I could almost see their minds whirring. 

“This is Ethan Caldwell,” I said quickly, introducing him. 

“He’s my senior from the Syndicate Center. My project partner.” 

Before I could say more, Ethan extended his hand. 

“Alpha Hartwell, Luna Hartwell,” he said, his tone respectful but warm. 

“It’s an honor to meet you.” 

My father shook his hand, giving him a long, weighing look. 

My mother followed, though her gaze was more curious than suspicious. 

Ethan, to his credit, didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. 

After a few polite exchanges, Ethan offered a small smile and nodded toward the lab entrance. 

“I’ll let you have some time together,” he said to me. 

“I’ll start prepping the samples.” 

I nodded gratefully. 

As he turned away, my mother leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

“How old is he?” 

I blinked. 

| “Twenty-six,” I said. “Why?” 

She hummed thoughtfully. 

“Single?” 

I stared at her. 

“Yes,” I said slowly. “No bondmate. No partner.” 

My mother’s smile grew almost predatory. 

I narrowed my eyes at her. 

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“What are you scheming?” 

“Nothing,” she said innocently. 

“Nothing at all.” 

I wasn’t fooled. 

Before I could interrogate her further, she patted my shoulder and said, “He seems like a good wolf/ Strong. Steady. And he clearly cares about you.” 

I flushed slightly. 

As I talked, I found myself smiling without even realizing it. 

I told my parents how Ethan had been the one to vouch for me when I applied to the Syndicate 

Research Center. 

How he had helped me catch up after three years away from research. 

How he always made sure I ate something, even on the days when I would have skipped meals lost 

in data analysis. 

I spoke easily, freely- 

not noticing how my words piled up faster and faster, painting a picture of a wolf who had been 

steady beside me through every storm. 

It wasn’t until I glanced up that I realized my mother was watching me with a knowing smile, barely 

hidden behind the rim of her tea cup. 

Her eyes practically sparkled. 

I blinked, puzzled. 

Had I said too much? 

Before I could gather my thoughts, she set the cup down and patted my hand gently. 

“Mm,” she said, her voice casual but warm, 

“then you should make sure to get along well with him.” 

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