Rejected Three Years Ago, I Came Back as Luna Queen Chapter 12

Rejected Three Years Ago, I Came Back as Luna Queen Chapter 12

Emily repeatedly slapped at his wrist. Brandon jerked his hand back as if suddenly realizing he had lost control.

“Brandon, she’s no better than me!”

“You watch. Her first call will be to you, begging you to help her get through her heat.”

The man in the driver’s seat didn’t reply, but his sudden, ragged breathing exposed every thought in his mind.

One minute passed.

Five minutes passed.

Seven, nine, ten minutes…

Until a full half-hour went by-an entire hour since I had left.

The pinned chat box on his phone remained completely silent.

Emily grew uneasy, shifting in her seat.

“That’s impossible… She’s a shameless creature who craves Alphas! How could she not call you?”

Brandon couldn’t process a single word she was saying anymore.

The image of that man supporting me as we walked away burned into his mind.

A sharp ringing pierced his ears.

“Get out!”

Emily opened her mouth to argue, but the sheer coldness in his eyes made her scramble out of the car.

The second her feet hit the pavement, the car roared away like an arrow released from a bow.

Outside the apartment building, Brandon slammed his thumb against the elevator button. It was peak hour,

and every car stopped at every floor.

His manic state terrified the people around him, drawing low whispers and nervous glances.

He turned and sprinted toward the emergency stairwell. Twelve floors. He took the steps three at a time,

sweat pasting his hair to his forehead, his legs burning like lead weights pulling him down.

He burst through the twelfth-floor exit and charged toward Unit 1201, pounding frantically on the door.

“Olivia! Open the door!”

The heavy thuds echoed through the hallway, but there was no response from inside. Suddenly, the sound of

glass shattering came from behind the door, instantly snapping his remaining sanity.

“Olivia! Get a hold of yourself! He isn’t me! I’m here now-just open the door, please!”

The door remained shut, but the noise drew out the neighbor next door.

An older woman stepped out holding a broom, scowling in annoyance.

“What’s all the damn noise? Is your girl cheating on you in there or what?”

Brandon snapped his head toward her, his bloodshot eyes looking vicious enough to kill.

The neighbor slammed her door shut without hesitation.

He pounded on that door all night.

When Vincent brought me back from the Pack Hospital the next morning, we ran straight into Brandon sitting slumped against the wall, exhausted and disheveled.

I walked up and kicked his leg.

Brandon stirred and slowly looked up, his eyes laced with red, his voice raspy.

“Olivia Voss…”

His gaze dropped to the emergency record in my hand, then drifted up to the arm wrapped firmly around my

waist.

He dragged himself up off the floor in silence and launched a fist straight at Vincent.

“You bastard!”

I gasped and lunged forward to block him.

When the fist stopped a bare inch from my chest, Vincent grabbed his wrist in midair.

Brandon stared at me in disbelief as I stood between them.

“Why? Why are you protecting him?”

“Brandon, go lose your mind somewhere else.”

He let out a dry, broken laugh and backed away, lowering his arm.

“Right. I’m crazy. Because you make me sick.”

He pointed a trembling finger at Vincent.

“Just to get back at me for choosing Emily, you took an illegal heat stimulant? You actually slept with him and wound up in the hospital?”

I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of his mouth-the exact same filth Emily had spewed.

My patience ran completely dry.

“Brandon, not everyone is as vile as you two.”

Vincent pulled the emergency record from my hands and slapped it against Brandon’s chest.

“Olivia’s right. Stop projecting your own filth onto everyone else.”

“Let me teach you something: when a heat gets out of control, you don’t have to act like a mindless beast.

You can go to the Pack Hospital and get a suppressor.”

The paper drifted to the floor.

Brandon lowered his head, staring at the document in dead silence, unmoving.

Before I closed the apartment door, I delivered my final words in an ice-cold tone.

“I’ve already called the police. This time, I won’t let it go just because she’s my sister.”