Switched Bride True Luna novel Chapter 82

Emily

I didn’t know if bringing Logan here was brave or stupid.

Silverroot Sanctuary wasn’t built for cameras or Pack politics. It didn’t need Alphas towering around with that simmering expectation of strength.

It was a place for softness. For silence. For wolves like me.

The car rolled to a slow stop at the Sanctuary gates just past sunrise, dew still clinging to the tall grass and early mist curling over the moon–shaped stone path.

There was no press yet–thank the stars. That had been my non–negotiable condition. One hour. Justus. And then the public

could come.

I opened the door before the driver could get out, stepping barefoot onto the gravel with practiced ease. My heels were in my bag. Here, you didn’t wear shoes if you didn’t have to.

Logan joined me silently. His gaze swept the property like it was a battlefield, but his posture was relaxed, less rigid than usual. Maybe it was the air, all pine and sage. Maybe it was the place itself

Or maybe, just maybe, he was trying.

“You come here often?” he asked, voice low as we passed the carved moonstone gate. From anyone else it would have sounded like a bad pickup line.

“Often enough,” I said, keeping my eyes on the trail. “I came here after things… escalated back home. One of the older Lunas recommended it. It’s quiet. No expectations. And they don’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.”

He hummed softly, falling into step beside me. “You never mentioned it.”

I shrugged. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

Now it did. And I hated that something so personal was being used to keep up appearances. But I wanted to share this with Logan

We followed the salt path toward the moonbathing circle, the trail crunching softly beneath our feet. To the left, a silverleaf grove shimmered in the morning light. To the right, a meditation pond mirrored the sky, still and endless.

}

“I always thought dormancy was just… something you endured,” he said, not looking at me. “But this place, it feels more like… hope.”

I stopped walking. “That’s exactly what it is.”

He blinked, then added, “Like it’s not about what you’ve lost… but what you’ve kept alive.”

I turned to him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice. “That’s not a bad way to put it.”

“I’m trying,” he said, and I believed him.

He turned to face me, and I let him see it this time. The ache. The weariness. The thousand ways I’d learned to carry my quiet wolf and still hold my head up.

“There’s a lot you haven’t said,” he murmured.

“Would it have changed anything?”

The words slipped out sharper than I intended. But he didn’t flinch. He just nodded once, slowly, like he deserved the hit.

We walked again, our pace slower now. When we reached the moon circle, I stepped into the white–gravel center and sat down cross–legged. He hesitated before following, lowering himself beside me with the grace of an Alpha.

1/3

Chapter 82

+25 BONUS

“The first time I came here,” I said, “I hated it. I thought if I sat st long enough, maybe my wolf would come back. That maybe I could force it.”

“Did it help?”

“No,” I said honestly. “But I stopped trying to be someone else. That’s worth something.”

Logan looked at me then: not with pity or like I was a problem, but like I was something he couldn’t stop wanting to understand.

“I’ve never seen you this calm,” he said.

“You’ve never seen he here before.”

The air between us thickened. He reached out, slow and careful, his hand brushing mine where it rested on the gravel. Not a full touch. Just an offering.

I laced our fingers together and he gave a single, comforting squeeze.

We stayed like that, side by side in the hush of morning light, until I felt something in me ease.

Maybe it wasn’t brave or stupid. Maybe it was necessary.

And when the press arrived, I carried the calm of this sacred place with me. I stood, dusted off my palms, and turned toward the

gates

This was my story to tell.

The silence ended the moment the cameras clicked.

It–started with one shutter. Then another. Then the rapid staccato of dozens, snapping like gunfire in the soft morning air.

Silverroot wasn’t built for performance, but today—just this once-

I let it become a stage.

Logan remained half a step behind me. Protective. He felt… present. He let me lead, and that might have been the most shocking part of all.

“This sanctuary provides recovery programs for wolves with fractured or dormant shifts,” I said clearly, my voice cutting through the murmurs of reporter, demanding attention. “There is no cure for dormancy. But there is healing. Acceptance. And I believe that deserves attention.”

!

Someone lifted a mic. “Miss Blackwood–do you still consider yourself a candidate for Luna status despite your condition?”

Logan bristled beside me. But I had expected it.

“I don’t consider dormancy a disqualification or an affliction,” I replied, steady. “And I don’t believe Pack leadership should be determined by physical strength alone.”

Logan nodded once, firm and visible. A silent statement of support

Another question rang out: “Is this visit a response to recent rumors about your marriage being a loveless contract?”

I looked directly into the lens of the nearest camera and smiled.

“No. This visit was my idea. And Logan was kind enough to join me.”

I heard the click of another photo. That one, I knew, would end up in print. The smile. The unflinching posture. The powerful Alpha at my side.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify