My Rouge Luna

Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Sanctuary & Suspicion

Christa’s P.O.V.

The northern wing was more prison than sanctuary. Heavy stone walls, barred windows that looked out over the lake, guards posted at both ends of the hall. They called it “protective confinement,” but I knew a cage when I saw one.

The bond burned under my skin. Every heartbeat carried a whisper of Carlos—anger, grief, and that infuriating thread of longing that tied us together no matter how much I fought it.

The door opened. His scent hit me first—cedar, smoke, storm. Carlos stepped inside, bare forearms folded tight across his chest.

“You’re comfortable?” he asked, voice low.

I laughed bitterly. “Comfortable? You call this sanctuary? Looks more like house arrest.”

“It is sanctuary,” he snapped. “The Codex protects you here. No wolf can touch you, not even the council. Not after today.”

My stomach twisted. “So I should thank you for locking me up?”

He flinched, barely, but his jaw tightened. “I’m keeping you alive, Christa. You think the council wouldn’t tear you apart if they could?”

“I think you’re afraid of what I’ll choose if I’m free.”

The silence between us crackled. His wolf pressed against mine, hot and desperate, and my own answered before I could stop it.

Carlos stepped closer, shadows cutting across his face. “You can hate me all you want. But don’t lie to yourself. You feel this bond. You know what it means.”

I turned my face away, nails digging into my palms. “My sister’s grave doesn’t care about bonds.”

For a heartbeat, I thought he’d break. Instead, he shoved his hands through his hair, cursing under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re pathetic,” I spat. “An Alpha who hides behind laws and bonds while your pack drowns in blood.”

The air between us went sharp, brittle. If he touched me, I wasn’t sure if I’d kiss him or claw his throat.

Before either could happen, a whisper brushed my ears.

“Christa…”

I turned, heart pounding. The window shutters rattled softly. And there—beyond the bars—Serenity’s golden-brown skin gleamed in the moonlight, Aaliyah crouched beside her, red locs catching silver light.

My sisters.

“Get rid of him,” Serenity mouthed.

Carlos followed my gaze, his body tensing instantly. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I lied quickly, moving toward the shutters. “Just the wind.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe me. But after a long moment, he turned toward the door. “You’re safe here. Whether you want to be or not.” He paused, gaze raking over me like a brand. “And if you’re carrying my child, you’re more than safe—you’re untouchable.”

The words lodged in my chest. Carrying his child. My throat went dry.

When the door shut behind him, I rushed to the shutters, pulling them open just enough.

Serenity’s hazel eyes burned into mine. “What the hell is going on, Christa? Did he just say—”

“Not here,” I hissed. “Meet me by the lake. Midnight.”

Aaliyah’s magic sparked faint blue against her fingers. “Don’t make us drag you out.”

I pressed my forehead to the bars, torn in two. My sisters’ shadows melted back into the trees, leaving me with the weight of Carlos’s words and the echo of the bond thrumming inside me.

Safe. Untouchable. Pregnant?

I sank onto the cold stone bed, clutching my stomach, and whispered to the dark:

“What the hell have you done to me, Carlos?”

The night passed quickly and at first light I was taken to the healers hut this pack was really starting to piss me the f**k off but I would ride this wave until I was sure what to do next the night passed quickly and before I knew it I was dragged to the healers hut by Carlos another f*****g unwanted encounter. The healer’s hut smelled of sage and smoke, thick enough to make my stomach twist. Every surface was draped in herbs—dried lavender, wolfsbane, moonwort—and the air shimmered faintly with the residue of magic older than the council itself.

The pack healer, Doña Isolde, circled me like a hawk. Her silver hair hung in one long braid over her shoulder, her eyes a strange pale blue that seemed to see too much. She was old enough to remember three generations of Alphas, yet her steps were steady as stone.

Carlos stood near the door, a silent shadow, his arms crossed like he was holding himself together by sheer will. His wolf’s presence pressed against mine, possessive and fierce.

Doña Isolde placed a cool hand on my wrist. Her touch sent a ripple through my wolf, as though she were plucking at strings deep inside me.

“You carry more than a mark, child,” she murmured, her gaze sharpening.

My heart slammed against my ribs. “What do you mean?”

She didn’t answer at first. Instead, she moved her hand to my stomach, hovering just above my skin, her lips moving in an ancient chant. The air thickened, charged with something primal.

Carlos shifted, his voice low, edged with impatience. “Say it.”

Doña Isolde’s pale eyes flicked up to mine, unreadable. “The bond is strong. Stronger than most. Already it roots itself deep, binding flesh to flesh, blood to blood.” She paused, then her voice dropped to a whisper that felt like thunder in the small hut.

“The signs speak of new life.”

My stomach dropped. “You mean—”

Carlos surged forward before I could finish. “She’s pregnant?”

The healer’s gaze turned to him, sharp as a blade. “I said signs, Alpha. Omen. Nothing is certain yet. The moon does not speak plainly.” She turned back to me, her expression softening. “But I feel possibility stirring. A thread not yet woven, but waiting.”

Carlos’s wolf howled in the bond, fierce and triumphant. His hand twitched like he wanted to touch me, claim me all over again.

I recoiled. “No.” My voice cracked, raw. “No, this can’t—”

Doña Isolde squeezed my hand gently. “The Moon gives what she will. Child, you are both chosen and cursed. This path will demand blood—yours, or another’s.”

Carlos bristled. “Enough riddles. Speak plainly.”

The healer’s pale eyes didn’t waver. “If the child lives, the line of Alpha is sealed. The council cannot move against her. Not now. Not ever.”

The words hit like a blow. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

Carlos turned to me, his eyes blazing. “Do you hear that? You’re safe. Our future—”

“Don’t.” My voice snapped, sharp as broken glass. “Don’t you dare call this our future. I never asked for this. I never wanted—”

But the bond betrayed me, tugging at my heart, at the tears welling in my eyes.

Doña Isolde watched us, sadness etched into the lines of her face. “The Moon ties threads we cannot cut, only follow. Whether you walk them together or burn them apart… that is your choice.”

Her words hung heavy in the smoke-filled room, a prophecy neither of us wanted but both of us couldn’t escape.

When Carlos reached for me again, I pulled away, clutching my stomach like it already carried the weight of a future I wasn’t ready for.

And for the first time, I realized: this wasn’t just about revenge. Or love. Or even survival.

This was about legacy.

And legacy demanded sacrifice.