Reclaiming My Broken Luna 2

Astrid's POV

The journey to Ardan's stronghold felt longer than it should have.

They forced me to walk.

Through the forest, over uneven terrain, my wrists bound in iron shackles laced with wolfsbane, burning against my skin with every step.

I didn't fight them.

Not because I couldn't.

But because every second I stalled, every moment I made them think I was truly broken, brought me closer to Elara.

That was all that mattered.

The rogues surrounded me in a loose formation, their laughter and whispered taunts filling the night air.

They didn't see me as a threat.noveldrama

Not anymore.

They saw a woman who had given up, a mother who had walked willingly into the lion's den.

That was their first mistake.

Their second?

Letting me breathe.

As we moved deeper into rogue territory, my thoughts remained sharp, focused. I counted our path, memorized the turns, the landmarks, the scent markers.

If I survived this, if I found a way to get Elara out, I needed to know exactly how to escape.

If I didn't... then at least Killian would know where to find us.

A rough shove at my back nearly sent me stumbling.

I gritted my teeth, inhaling slowly through my nose as I forced my posture to remain steady.

I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

A rogue to my right-the one with sunken eyes and a cruel smirk—chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "What's wrong, Almega? You're awfully quiet for someone who walked right into her own death."

I ignored him.

Another rogue snickered. "Maybe she finally realized what she's done. Traded her own life for a brat that's probably crying herself to sleep by now."

My fists clenched.

"Or maybe she's not crying," a third rogue mused. "Maybe she's learning that her mother isn't coming for her. Maybe she's realizing that—"

I moved before I could think.

My body twisted, the burning pain of the shackles be damned as I spun and slammed my heel into the rogue's ribs.

A sickening crack echoed through the trees as he crumpled to the ground, gasping in pain.

Silence.

The other rogues halted, watching, stunned.

Even the one I had just struck wheezed in disbelief, clutching his ribs as he glared up at me.

I straightened, meeting each of their gazes one by one.

I was still Astrid.

Still a fighter.

Still a mother.

And I wouldn't let them talk about my daughter like that.

"If you ever speak about my child again," I said, my voice like ice, "I will break more than your ribs."

Scarface let out a low whistle, stepping forward, clearly entertained. "Still got some bite left, huh?" He crouched beside the rogue on the ground, shaking his head in mock pity. "Damn, Garett. You just got your ass handed to you by a woman in chains."

Garett the one I'd kicked-growled, glaring up at me. "She won't be so bold once Ardan gets his hands on her."

I said nothing.

I didn't need to.

Because I knew who I was facing.

And he knew who he had taken from me.

The Rogue Stronghold

The air changed as we reached the rogue camp.

The scent of damp wood and blood was thick, mingling with the lingering burn of wolfsbane.

It wasn't a camp-it was a fortress. Hidden deep within the mountains, built into the cliffs, it was protected from sight, from any outsiders.

From Killian.

The rogue warriors at the entrance barely glanced at us as we passed, too accustomed to their own filth to react.

But the moment they saw me-the moment they realized who I was-something shifted.

Some stared in shock. Others smirked, clearly enjoying my current state.

Let them look.

I wasn't here for them.

I was here for her.

The doors of the stronghold opened with a deep, resounding creak, and my body

went rigid.

The scent of power hit me first.

Then the voice.

"Astrid."

I lifted my gaze.

And there he was.

Ardan.

The rogue king.

He stood at the center of the room his presence commanding, his dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper.

Something that sent every instinct in me screaming.

He looked the same as I remembered. Tall. Broad. Ruthless.

His black cloak barely moved as he stepped forward, his gaze dragging over me, over the shackles on my wrists, the bruises already forming on my skin.

"Look at you," he mused, voice smooth, arrogant. "The mighty Almega, finally brought to her knees."

I didn't respond.

He tilted his head slightly. "No sharp words? No threats?" His smirk widened. "Disappointing."

I swallowed the rage bubbling in my throat, forcing my expression into cold neutrality.

I wouldn't give him what he wanted.

Not yet.

Ardan took another step, circling me like a woff studying a wounded prey. "You came alone," he noted. "Smart. I expected Killian to put up more of a fight to keep you."

At the mention of Killian, my fingers twitched.

Ardan noticed.

His smirk sharpened. "Ah, but of course, your mate wouldn't allow this, would he?

Did you sneak away? Did you leave him behind?"

I met his gaze, refusing to let him see my hesitation.

"I'm here,” I said flatly. "You have what you wanted."

Ardan chuckled, low and dark. "Almost." He glanced at one of his men. "Bring her

in."

My heart stopped.

Footsteps echoed through the room, and then-

"Elara!"

The shackles on my wrists no longer existed. The pain in my arms, my legs, my

ribs-all of it vanished.

Because there she was.

Her small frame, her golden hair tangled, her cheeks smudged with dirt-but she

was alive.

Her blue eyes locked onto mine instantly, wide, teary.

"Mommy!"

She struggled in the grip of the rogue holding her, but I barely heard anything

else.

I moved.

Or at least, I tried.

The shackles burned against my skin as the rogues held me back, my body

thrashing, every ounce of self-control snapping.

"Let her go!" My voice was raw, broken with desperation.

Ardan stepped between us, his lips curling as he studied me, fascinated. "You

really do love her."

A shiver ran down my spine.

Because something in his voice told me―

This wasn't going to be over so easily.