Chapter Summary: Chapter 252: Second Rejection – Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian) by Selene Souchon
In Chapter 252: Second Rejection, a key moment in the Werewolf novel Reclaiming My Broken Luna (Astrid and Killian), Selene Souchon delivers powerful storytelling, emotional shifts, and critical plot development. This chapter deepens the reader’s connection to the characters and sets the stage for upcoming revelations.
Astrid’s POV
I tilted my head back and curled my toes as Killian expertly explored me, his hands and tongue teasingly moving closer to my sensitive spots.
“K-Killian,” I gasped, the sound escaping my lips like a whisper of pleasure.
I never imagined that I would turn into a purring kitten, completely captivated by his every touch.
As our breaths turned ragged, I reached for Killian’s shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. Each pop echoed the tension between us.
Once the fabric fell away, I pressed my hands against his warm skin, my fingertips tracing the contours of his six-packed abs, feeling the heart radiate beneath my touch.
Killian let out a low growl at my caress, igniting a yearning deep within me. I couldn’t help but trail my fingers down to the bulge in his pants. A smile crept across my face as I realized just how much he desired.
With a mix of excitement and anticipation, I began to work on removing his pants. Just as I was about to slip my hands in to give him pleasure, Killian suddenly jolted back as if my touch had startled him awake.
“What’s wrong?” I breathed out, urgency lacing my voice as I propped myself up to face him, concern mingling with the heat of the moment. My brows furrowed as I hugged myself together, clinging to what was left of the delicate fabric I was wearing.
I watched as Killian’s golden eyes flickered, transforming back to the familiar deep brown that had always held a hint of warmth. He blinked rapidly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off an invisible pain.
“Killian,” I whispered, reaching out, hoping to bridge the distance that had suddenly stretched between us. Just as I was about to reach for his arm to offer comfort, Killian recoiled from my touch, hurriedly slipping away from my bed, trying to get as far from me as possible.
A pang of hurt twisted in my chest at his rejection, but I couldn’t let him go. “Killian, what’s wrong?” I stood up, determination igniting my steps.
“Please, answer me!” I grasped his arm, halting him in his tracks, desperate to pull him back and unravel the mystery that had spun between us.
Killian slowly turned to face me. The man I had been with just seconds earlier was gone, replaced by the same man who had been treating me like a stranger. His face was locked in a mask of formality, his eyes distant, as if he had placed an invisible wall between us.
Still, I didn’t back down. I looked into his eyes, demanding an explanation.
“A-Astrid, I’m sorry,” Killian stammered, confusion swirling in my mind.
Was this how undesirable I was to him? That he could so easily pull himself back from me, a bond we once cherished, while he had failed to do so with Giselle? The thought twisted like a knife, leaving me grappling with a storm of emotions.
I stared at the closed door, wishing I could rewind time. I made another fool of myself again. Killian must be thinking how easy and shallow I was.
The silence in the room was deafening, amplifying my loneliness, a stark reminder of the shame that happened earlier.
I pulled the blanket around me tighter, as if it could shield me from the truth that wrapped around my heart like a vice. I had laid myself bare in front of him, opened up the parts of me that were usually guarded, and for what? To be met with a wall of rejection? My thoughts spiralled, each one more painful than the last.
What did he see when he looked at me? A fleeting moment of weakness? A reckless choice he regretted? I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had become nothing more than a chapter in his life that he wanted to close.
I felt a surge of anger at the situation, at him for leaving, at myself for allowing this to happen. It wasn’t just about him; it was about me—about my choices, my failings. I had let myself believe in a fantasy, one that was now shattered.
With each passing moment, the ache in my chest deepened, morphing into a resolve that surprised me. I wouldn’t let this define me.
Wiping my tears, I sat up straighter, determination flickering to life within me. I needed to reclaim my sense of self, to remind myself of who I was outside of Killian’s shadow. I had dreams, aspirations, and a life to live, with or without him.
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