The Rejected Envoy of the Moon Chapter 06

The Rejected Envoy of the Moon Chapter 06

When those words left Grace’s mouth, Patricia’s reaction wasn’t shock. It was to rush over and help her up.

“Grace, sweetie, calm down.”

She cradled Grace, then lifted her tear-streaked face toward me.

“Claire, Grace is just confused right now.”

“You’ve already married so well. Why do you still need to destroy her engagement?”

I looked at her.

Truly remarkable.

Grace told me to die, and Patricia didn’t hear a thing.

I stood there doing nothing, and she accused me of ruining someone’s future.

Mrs. Nocturne walked over.

She had just stepped off the plane, and her expression was glacial.

She took my hand and saw the red marks Patricia’s nails had left on the back of it. Her brow creased

immediately.

“Is this what passes for upbringing in the Virethorn Pack?”

Patricia tried to defend herself.

Mrs. Nocturne cut her off.

“You threw out your own birth daughter for seven years. Didn’t look for her. Didn’t care.”

“Your adopted daughter destroyed people’s lives, and you protected her like royalty.”

“Blind eyes, rotten heart. And you still have the nerve to stand here in public calling yourself a mother?”

Douglas stepped forward as well and spoke to his secretary. “Get the lawyers.”

“Grace just attempted assault. The airport surveillance footage will have captured every second.”

Grace’s head snapped up.

“No!”

“I didn’t touch her!”

Douglas’s voice was ice. “Only because the bodyguards were fast. That doesn’t mean you didn’t try.”

Thorne finally spoke.

“Claire, is there any way you could not press charges against Grace?”

I turned to him.

“There you go again.”

His eyes were rimmed with red.

“She’s already lost her engagement.”

“The Virethorn Pack is falling apart.”

“Please. Your brother is begging you.”

Brother.

That word fell from his mouth and landed weightless on the ground.

handed my son to Zephyr.

Then I slowly rolled up my sleeve.

On the inside of my left arm, there were several old scars.

The color had faded, but they were still clearly visible.

Cigarette burns.

When I was seventeen, Grace said her sheet music had gone missing.

Thorne decided I was jealous of her.

He pressed a lit cigarette into my arm.

He said, “When you learn to behave, I’ll stop.”

Later, the music was found on Grace’s own bookshelf.

She cried and said she forgot.

Thorne bought her a bracelet to calm her nerves.

Nobody apologized to me.

I pushed the sleeve as high as it would go and let everyone see.

The murmur of the crowd shifted completely.

Thorne stared at those scars, and every trace of color vanished from his face.

“Those are…”

“Yours.”

“Thorne, from the moment you pressed that cigarette into my skin, you stopped being my brother.”

He staggered back a step and knocked into a suitcase.

Patricia scrambled to explain.

“That was years ago. Are you seriously still holding a grudge?”

Zephyr’s face went stone cold.

He draped his suit jacket over my shoulders.

“Enough.”

He looked at the bodyguards.

“Escort them to the airport police station.”

Edward panicked.

“There’s no need to blow this up.”

Zephyr picked up his son with one arm and held my hand with the other.

“My wife doesn’t like noise.”

“The rest of it, you can discuss with our lawyers.”

We turned and walked away.

Behind us, Grace was still wailing.

Patricia cursed me for being heartless.

Edward was on the phone begging anyone who would listen.

Thorne kept calling my name.

My son was draped over Zephyr’s shoulder. He leaned close to my ear and whispered.

“Mommy, are the bad guys gonna get taken away?”

I smoothed his hair.

“Yes.”

He thought about it, then asked another question.

“If flowers die, can they come back alive?”

I paused for half a beat.

“Some can’t.”

“But we can plant new ones.”

Back at the Silvermist Pack’s pack house, a welcome dinner had been set up for us.

My son insisted on sitting next to me and piled my plate high with shrimp.

For every one he dropped on my plate, Zephyr peeled another.

Grandpa sat at the head of the table, watching us. His eyes were a little red.

“Claire, from now on, anyone who dares bully you answers to these old bones first.”

Mrs. Nocturne chimed in immediately.

“And me.”

Douglas cleared his throat.

“Count me in.”

My son raised his hand.

“Me too! I bite people!”

The whole table laughed.

I laughed too.

And somewhere between the laughter, that place in my chest that had been locked tight for so long began to

loosen, just a little.