2/2
Rejected Luna Returns with Secret Twins
Chapter 67
Metal groaned as Tristan stumbled forward through sheets of rain. His expensive Italian loafers sank into mud, forcing him to fight for each step toward Lysandra’s mangled car. Behind him, his Mercedes lay destroyed–front end crumpled like used tissue paper, wipers pathetically scraping across a shattered windshield, white smoke hissing from the ruined engine.
Blood dripped from the gash on his forehead, mixing with rain and sweat. He didn’t care. His wolf clawed frantically within him, pushing against his human form with such force that his vision flickered between normal and wolf sight–the latter capturing every horrifying detail of the crash scene in sharp relief despite the darkness.
Lightning split the night sky. For one ter Lightning split the night sky. For one terrible moment, he saw Lysandra’s car clearly–passenger side crumpled against the mountain, headlights still weakly illuminating the rain. The car had stopped just short of plummeting over the cliff edge.
“Lysandra!” The name tore from him as both command and plea, his Alpha voice cutting through the storm like a blade. “Can you hear me? Answer me!”
No response. Panic ripped through him,
topelling him forward until he reached the side window.
The glass was spiderwebbed with cracks but still intact. Through it, he could make out Lysandra’s slumped form.
***
Inside the car, Lysandra floated in a haze
of pain and confusion. The world spun, sounds muffled as
if she were underwater. Fragments of memory
flashed through her mind–the car hydroplaning, the
brakes failing, the sickening moment she felt, the guardrail giving way beneath them.
Then, cutting through the fog–a voice. Not just any voice. His voice. The Alpha command in it vibrated through her bones, pulling her toward consciousness like a hook.
Mate! Our mate has come for us! Astrid’s voice rang through her mind, the purple wolf surging forward with renewed strength.
Lysandra struggled to open her eyes. Glass. Rain. Darkness. Then a face–Tristan’s face, contorted with such raw fear that it shocked her. Had she ever seen him afraid? In two years of marriage, she’d seen anger, coldness, disdain–but never fear.
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His eyes blazed crimson in the darkness, a ring of blood–red around steel blue. Those eyes locked onto hers through the cracked window, and something electric shot between them, pulling at a place deep in her chest where the mate bond had once pulsed strong and vital.
“Lysandra, look at me.” His voice was different now–still commanding, but with an undertone she’d never heard before. “Don’t close your eyes. Stay with me.”
1/3
Chapter 07
She blinked slowly, fighting the fog threatening to reclaim her, “Tristan…?
Rellef crashed through him when her eyes focused on his. For one sickening moment, he’d thought he was too late.
“I’m getting you out.” He yanked at the door handle, but the frame had warped in the impact. The door wouldn’t budge.
Raw, primal rage filled him. His wolf pushed harder, lending him strength as he slammed his fist into the window. The safety glass shattered, raining fragments across the interior. Blood welled from fresh cuts on his knuckles as he reached through the jagged opening, feeling for the lock mechanism.
The door gave way with a shriek of bent metal. Lysandra tumbled sideways, no longer supported by the door. Tristan caught her, his hands surprisingly gentle as he eased her from the wreckage.
“My driver…save him.” she mumbled, attempting to look back into the car.
Tristan ignored her mumbles and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as the rain pelted them both. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, the crimson streak making his heart
stutter with fear.
Her body felt too light, too fragile in his arms. He tightened his grip, irrationally afraid she might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
“Lysandra.” He tapped her cheek lightly when her eyes began to flutter closed. The fear in his own voice surprised him–a vulnerability he’d never allowed himself to show before. “Stay awake.”
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Lysandra struggled to make sense of what was happening. She’d been leaving Silverblood territory. There was rain… then spinning… then terror as the car slid toward the cliff edge. Now Tristan was here, holding her like she was something precious instead of someone he despised.
He’d saved her life.
“You crashed into me…” She tried to sit up and immediately regretted it as pain lanced through her
ribs. “Your car…”
“Don’t move.” His voice brooked no argument. He shifted her weight in his arms, scanning the road in both directions. “We need to get you to the hospital.
Frustration colored his features as he realized his car was undrivable. Holding her with one arm, he pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen was cracked but functional.
2/3
Three quick taps and he had his Beta on the line.
“Varian, get to the forest boundary road now.” His voice was pure Alpha command.
“Boundary road?” Varian sounded confused. “I’m not far from there. What happened?”
“Accident. Bring the medical team. Fást.”
He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket, attention returning fully to Lysandra. She felt his heart hammering against her side where he held her–far too rapid for the normally controlled Alpha.
專專專
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Tristan waited, counting each of Lysandra’s breaths. Each one seemed weaker than the last. The rain began to lighten, fat drops becoming a gentler mist.
“I can walk,” she protested weakly, attempting to push away from him. “My legs are fine… I don’t
need you to…”
Tristan adjusted his grip, pulling her closer against his chest instead of letting her go. “Stop talking,” he ordered, though the bite that usually accompanied his commands was missing.
The rain finally stopped. Moonlight broke through thinning clouds, silvering the wet road and illuminating them both. Blood from his forehead wound had mingled with hers where their skin touched. Something primitive in him recognized the significance of this–their blood mixing, becoming one.
That’s when he noticed it–a curved scar on her right forearm, exposed where her sleeve had torn in the crash. The mark was old, years healed, but distinctive.
Memory flashed–a childhood accident, a girl who’d saved him, scarred herself in the process. His heart rate accelerated.
Tristan stared at her arm, confusion washing over his features. “This scar… where did you get it?”
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