Page 74 of His Loved Lycan Luna

“I can’t live like this, Az. I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to be the broken doll.”

This isn’t the Abbie I know. This is who remained after everything has been taken from her. She seems as helpless now as she did when we first entered that orphanage. Back then, we were just children, unaware of the true horrors of the world, accepting whatever fate was dealt to us because we didn’t know any better.

Now that we are older, our eyes have opened to the harsh realities, the monsters that lurk in the shadows, and the lies that shaped our childhood. What we once considered normal has become distorted; what we thought was normal no longer is, and we are still uncertain of this new normal.

We have grown accustomed to pain because pain is familiar, comfortable in our own misery because it has become routine. Brokenness has become our norm. But how do you fix something that has become so deeply ingrained?

How do you break free from a cycle where pain is perceived as normal? Pain is not normal yet, all we know, or I did know until I met Kyson. Abbie hasn’t met her new normal; she is still suffering in the version we grew up with. Kade has compounded that feeling exponentially. And I can see she is tired - tired of the old normal. Though she once wore her resilience like armor, now it lay exposed, revealing her desire to shed its weight.

“You’re not broken,” I whisper despite the fact she looks it.

“I am. I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she murmurs, her gaze distant and emotionless.

“You’re my best friend, my sister. You are more than my life,” I tell her, squeezing her hand.

“No, we are you! We are rogue. We are whatever they let us be and nothing more,” she says.

“Only if you allow yourself to be. You are not defined by what he did to you, Abbie. You are not a reflection of the butcher’s actions, and we are not limited by the beliefs Mrs. Daley instilled in us,” I counter.

“You aren’t. You are a princess and soon-to-be queen. You are Azalea Ivy Landeena. I am rogue, I am nothing, and now everyone knows what they did, everyone knows the dirty things I wish I could forget; I am sick of them looking at me with pity, sick of them looking at me with disgust, sick of being what he made me!”

Abbie buries her face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shoulders shake with each anguished breath, and I can’t even begin to fathom the depth of her pain. But one thing is certain—she will make it through this. She has to because a world without her presence is no world worth being in.

“Then be Abbie,” I tell her, putting my head on her shoulder.

“But I don’t know who she is,” Abbie murmurs, her voice emotionless.

“What they did to you is not you, but a reflection of them. That is who they were. Were Abbie. They are dead, and you are still breathing. They don’t get another chance, but you do, so take it; don’t let them chain you down in the memory of what they did. They don’t deserve it. Live because you can and want to,” I tell her, and she shakes her head and pulls her knees to her chest.

Abbie puts her head in her hands and cries. Her shoulders shake, and I can’t begin to imagine what she is going through, but shewillget through this. She has to.

“You sound like Gannon, but even he looks at me the same as everyone else, even you do; I know you can’t help it, but—” she chokes out, her entire body shaking.

“I don’t look at you with pity, Abbie. I see beyond the pain and the scars. I see the strength and resilience that define who you truly are. You are so much more than what they have done to you. You are the girl for whom I would risk my life, the one who has stood by my side when all hope seemed lost. And now, right here in this moment, I need you to make a choice. Are you going to jump? Because if you do, I will jump with you.”

Abbie’s voice trembles as she responds, her words carrying theweight of her self-doubt. “But I am nothing compared to you. I am just a werewolf while you are a queen.”

Her belief in her own insignificance pains me deeply. “You are everything to me, Abbie. My title means nothing if I don’t have you by my side, and you will be my Beta, so don’t tell me you are nothing because the only reason I am still here for any of this is because of you.”

Abbie chuckles and shakes her head but lifts it, placing it against the wall. “I am a werewolf. You are Lycan, I can’t be your Beta, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a Beta.”

“Do you think I know how to be a queen?” I laugh softly, sitting up higher to meet her gaze.

“I can’t even read, but we have people here who will help us. I have Kyson. You have Gannon and me.”

“But what if Gannon leaves me when he realizes I can’t give him what he wants?” Abbie’s voice trembles with fear.

“He wants to change you and mark you, Abbie. He isn’t going anywhere. And even if he does, I will always be here for you,” I tell her.

“You would change me?” she asks.

“Wouldn’t think twice about it, but we may have to ask how, though, because I am not that good at being Lycan yet,” I chuckle.

A chuckle escapes Abbie’s lips, mirroring my own. But her smile fades all too quickly, replaced by a somber expression. “Who would have thought that freedom could be worse than the chains that once bound us?”

“Freedom isn’t something that is given, Abbie. It’s a mindset. Only we can free ourselves.”

“Do you feel free?” she asks, and I sigh.

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