Rejected Luna Queen

Nesta’s POV

I sit on the edge of my bed, feeling utterly lost and shocked. Nolan’s demand echoes in my mind, each word cutting deeper into my confusion.

My hand instinctively moves to my belly, feeling the small bump–a stark reminder of the life growing within me. How could he threaten my baby, threaten Luca, and then expect me to become his mistress?

“What the hell is he thinking?” I mutter, my voice trembling. “He hates me. Why would he ask me to become his mistress?”

The absurdity of his request makes my head spin. Nolan has always been a complex, tortured presence in my life, but this…this was beyond comprehension.

We despise each other. More than anything in the world to be honest. I can’t understand how he could hate me so deeply and yet demand something so degrading and possessive.

“He loathes me,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “And I loathe him right back. This doesn’t make any sense.”

The more think about it, the more confused I become. I’ve seen the anger and hatred in his eyes, the same emotions I feel towards him.

Our relationship is built on mutual animosity, a toxic bond that seems impossible to break. Yet, there’s something else there -something I can’t quite grasp. We both know that thing is there and worse, I feel it with both Rowan and Nolan.

Is it the mating bond he mentioned? The connection that makes him crave me despite his loathing? Or is it something deeper, something he doesn’t even understand? The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

Nolan’s behaviour is erratic and unpredictable, driven by emotions he probably doesn’t fully comprehend. But why does it have to involve me? Why do I have to be the target of his confusion and anger?

I hug my knees to my chest, feeling a swell of despair. This isn’t how things were supposed to be. I had hoped for some semblance of peace, a chance to figure out my own path amidst the chaos of my life.

Instead, I’m caught in the crossfire of Nolan’s turmoil, a pawn in his twisted game.

Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away. I have to stay strong, for myself and for my baby. I can’t let Nolan’s erratic behaviour dictate my life.

I need to find a way to protect myself, to shield my unborn child from the storm brewing around us. Even Luca and Elara because they don’t deserve this for helping me at all. And Nolan will keep using them against me.

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady my thoughts. I have to be smart about this. I can’t afford to let Nolan’s threats and demands break me. There has to be a way out of this mess, a way to reclaim my life and find some measure of happiness.

But for now, I have to endure, to survive. And somehow, I have to figure out what Nolan is really after–what drives him to such desperate and contradictory actions.

“Why, Nolan?” I whisper into the empty room, my voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “What do you really want from me?”

I sit there, lost in my tumultuous thoughts, the door to my chamber creaks open. I look up, expecting another confrontational encounter, but instead, I see a familiar face that sends a wave of nostalgia washing over me.

It’s Maria, one of the maids I was used to back before I left. My lady–in–waiting.

She steps into the room, her eyes lighting up as they meet mine. “Nesta!” she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine warmth and surprise.

The formalities of her position dissolve instantly, and before I know it, she’s crossing the room in a few swift steps, wrapping me in a tight hug. I melted in her arms because hell, i need it.

Marial” I gasp, the tension in my body casing as I return her embrace.

Her presence feels like a breath of fresh air, a reminder of a simpler time when I had friends and people I could trust.

Maria pulls back slightly, her hands resting on my shoulders as she looks me over. “I can’t believe it’s really you,” she says, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ve missed you so much!

I smile, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I’ve missed you too,” I reply, iny voice thick with emotion. “It’s been too long.”

She nods, her eyes scanning my face as if trying to memorise every detail. “I heard you were back, but I hadn’t seen you around. How have you been? Are you…are you okay?” Her eyes drift to my small bump, her gaze softening with concern.

I swallow hard, trying to push back the tears that threaten to spill over. “It’s been…complicated,” I admit, my voice wavering. “A lot has happened.”

Maria’s expression shifts to one of understanding. “I can only imagine,” she says softly. “But I’m here now. Whatever you need, just let me know. I’m still your friend, Nesta.”Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

Her words bring a sense of comfort that I hadn’t realised I was missing. “Thank you, Maria,” I say, squeezing her hands. “I really needed that.”

We sit down together, and for a moment, it feels like old times. We talk about everything and nothing, catching up on lost time.

She tells me about the changes in the palace, the new faces, and the old ones who have stayed. I listen, grateful for the distraction from my troubled thoughts.

As we talk, I feel a renewed sense of strength. Maria’s presence reminds me that I’m not entirely alone here. I have allies, people who care about me. It gives me hope that I can navigate this complicated and hostile environment, that I can find at way to protect myself and my baby from Nolan’s erratic behaviour and threats.

“Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together,” Maria says firmly, her eyes shining with determination.

I nod, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within me. “Yes, we will,” I agree, my voice stronger than before.

As our conversation winds down, Maria glances at the clock and sighs.

“I should get back to my duties,” she says reluctantly, giving my hand one last squeeze. “But remember, Nesta, I’m here for you. Anytime you need to talk, just find me.”

I nod, offering her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Maria. It means a lot.”

She stands and heads toward the door, pausing to look back at me with a reassuring smile before she leaves. The door closes softly behind her, and the room feels emptier than before, the silence pressing in around me.

I exhale a shaky breath, feeling the weight of my situation settle heavily on my shoulders once more.

The brief respite Maria provided has faded, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, curling myself into a ball.

A wave of exhaustion washes over me, not just physical tiredness, but a deep, soul–crushing weariness.

I’m tired of the constant fear, the manipulation, and the threats. Tired of the endless uncertainty and the feeling of being a pawn in a game I never wanted to play.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I bury my face in my knees, letting the sobs escape in quiet, shuddering breaths. The weight of everything I’ve been through bears down on me Nolan’s cruelty, the rejection, the fear for my baby’s safety, and the crushing loneliness of being in a place where I once felt safe.

“I just want it all to be over,” I whisper to the empty room, my voice breaking. “I just want peace. For me, for my baby.”

The tears come harder now, flowing freely as I let out the pent–up emotions I’ve been holding back for so long. It feels like my heart is breaking all over again, the pain raw and relentless. Every breath feels like a struggle, every heartbeat a reminder of the turmoil within me.

I rock slightly, trying to comfort myself, but the overwhelming sense of despair is too much to bear. It’s as if the walls are closing in, suffocating me with the weight of everything I’ve lost and everything I fear I’ll never have.

In this moment, I feel utterly defeated, crushed by the enormity of my situation. The hope I felt earlier with Maria’s visit seems distant now, overshadowed by the stark reality of my circumstances.

I don’t know how long I stay like this, curled up and crying, but eventually, the tears begin to subside, leaving me feeling empty and hollow. My body aches with fatigue, my mind numb from the torrent of emotions.

I lie down on the bed, curling into a fetal position, and close my eyes. I just want to escape, even if it’s just for a little while. To find some semblance of peace in sleep, if nowhere else.

I drift off, I cling to a fragile thread of hope that somehow, some way, things will get better. But for now, I am tired–tired of fighting, tired of hurting, and tired of hoping. I just want it all to be over.