The Return of the Fallen Luna: Rise of the Heiress Chapter 86 Don’t Want Misunderstandings To Fester

"Brother..." Ashley choked out, her voice breaking as she tried to look at Apollo, though his face was nothing more than a blur through the tears clouding her vision. No matter how much he wiped them away, they only kept falling, faster, heavier, as if sothing inside her had finally shattered.

Grief and helplessness swelled in her chest, leaving her trembling under their weight. She wanted to tell him everything, every truth she had been carrying alone, every secret that had haunted her, but fear tightened its grip around her resolve.

What if knowing too much only dragged them into danger? What if the truth beca the very thing that destroyed them?

Even now, she was still hiding, clinging to what little distance she had from Nathan, yet she knew it was only a matter of ti before he found her.

And until then, she couldn’t afford to be weak. Instead of confessing, she swallowed her words and held onto a different resolve, and that is, she would grow stronger, strong enough to stand against him, against the York family, strong enough to claim justice for herself... and for her mother.

The thought of dragging her brothers into this ss terrified her. She couldn’t bear the idea of them ending up like their mother, broken, taken, gone because of a world they were never ant to face.

In that world, werewolves were savage and rciless, creatures who looked down on humans as sothing lesser, lives that could be snuffed out on a whim without consequence.

It was exactly why the peacekeepers enforced such a strict divide, keeping the fragile boundary intact between the ordinary world people believed in and the hidden one where bloodshed was routine, and danger lurked in every shadow.

Her brothers had only just escaped being destroyed once before. How could she willingly pull them into a place like that?

The fear coiled tightly in her chest, suffocating, relentless, and with everything she kept forcing herself to hold in, it felt as though she might break apart at any mont, her tears threatening to spill uncontrollably.

Ashley’s lips trembled, the words poised to spill from her mouth before she forced them back down, bitter and unspoken. She bit her lower lip hard enough to sting, as if pain could keep her silence intact.

In that mont, she looked heartbreakingly fragile, and the sight of it sent a jolt through Apollo. Panic flared in his chest, hot and unsteady, leaving him at a loss.

He wanted to do sothing, anything, to ease whatever was tearing her apart, but he didn’t know how, didn’t know where to even begin. It was clear she was holding sothing back, sothing heavy enough to make her crumble like this, and every instinct in him urged him to ask, to demand the truth.

Yet he knew forcing her would only push her further away. Caught between urgency and restraint, Apollo could only stay there, helpless, watching his sister struggle in silence.

"It’s alright... your brother’s here," Apollo murmured softly, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. "Don’t force yourself. Just know that I’ll always be here for you, so will your other brothers." His gentle reassurance wrapped around Ashley like a fragile shield, coaxing her back from the edge.

She sniffled, her breaths uneven at first, but slowly she managed to rein in the storm inside her, nodding faintly in response. Looking at him like this, so patient, so openly concerned, only deepened the ache in her chest.

And with it ca a quiet, resolute thought: more than anything, she wanted to protect them, to keep them safe from the darkness she carried.

The double doors to the bedroom creaked open at last, unnoticed by the two inside, who had been too absorbed in their mont to realize that Aunt Lavinia had been knocking for quite so ti.

When no answer ca, she took it upon herself to gently push the door open, quietly guiding in a cart laden with refreshnts and snacks.

To her, there was no need for hesitation; she was family in all but na, soone the brothers had never hidden things from, and so she felt no awkwardness stepping inside unannounced.

But the mont her gaze lifted, what she saw made her pause.

Apollo was kneeling in front of Ashley’s wheelchair, while Ashley sat there sniffling, her eyes still damp with tears. Instantly, Aunt Lavinia’s maternal instincts surged to life, her expression sharpening as a protective heat rose in her chest.

Misreading the scene entirely, she assud the worst, that Apollo had sohow upset the girl.

With a firm stomp of her heel, she marched toward them on the balcony, hands planting themselves on her hips as she prepared to scold him like a proper elder, ready to defend Ashley without hesitation.

The mont Apollo caught sight of Aunt Lavinia’s expression, he could already guess the conclusion she had jumped to. Before she could say a word, he quickly rose to his feet, both hands lifted in a gesture of surrender.

"Aunt Lavinia, it’s not what you think. I was just explaining to my sister about the promise I made to Ophelia’s father..." he said, his tone earnest, almost hurried.

Aunt Lavinia halted mid-step, her sharp gaze shifting from him to Ashley. The girl’s eyes were still red-rimd, her gaze lowered and evasive, as if embarrassed to have been caught crying.

The tension in Aunt Lavinia’s posture softened almost instantly, her sternness lting into a knowing, gentle smile.

"I see," she said lightly, her voice losing its edge. "Well then, I brought so refreshnts for you both." Turning back to the cart, she pushed it toward the balcony entrance with an easy grace.

"There’s still so much she doesn’t know about us," she added, glancing over her shoulder. "You might as well take your ti and talk a little more, get to know each other properly, so there won’t be any misunderstandings later on."

"I think so too," Apollo replied lightly, the tension already easing from his shoulders. "That’s why I took the liberty to explain things. I don’t want my little sister growing distant from us... or letting her thoughts run wild and overthink everything."

As he spoke, he cast Ashley a playful, almost mischievous look, one that carried a warmth she hadn’t expected.

The expression didn’t go unnoticed. Aunt Lavinia’s lips curved in quiet amusent, her gaze softening as sothing distant stirred in her mory. It had been a long ti, years, perhaps, since she had seen Apollo like this, so unguarded and alive.

The last ti had been when their family was still whole, when their mother had been heavily pregnant with Ashley, and every one of the Gildenvale children had been reckless little daredevils.

They had road the mountain their family owned as if it were their personal playground, chasing danger with bright, fearless grins that never failed to send their parents into fits of worry.

They always ca back the sa way, clothes torn, bodies dirtied, sotis bruised or scraped as if they had wrestled the wilderness itself. Yet they would laugh it off, untad and unbothered.

Back then, their world had been filled with noise, with life, with the kind of warmth that made even chaos feel safe.

But that was before everything fell apart.

After the catastrophe that shattered their family, the laughter had faded, replaced by a quiet heaviness. The children who once chased danger without fear had grown into people who carried it on their shoulders instead, maturing far too quickly under the weight of loss and the constant shadow of what could be taken from them again.

Aunt Lavinia let out a soft sigh, the sound carrying both relief and quiet fondness as a smile touched her lips.

Moving with practiced ease, she reached for the pitcher of chilled hibiscus rose tea, its surface glistening with slices of lemon and scattered pieces of strawberry, blackberry, and dragon fruit that lent it a natural sweetness.

She set it down carefully before turning to the tiered stand of desserts — carrot cupcakes, buttery cookies, red velvet, triple chocolate, and an assortnt of delicate pastries — all freshly baked, their warm aroma still lingering in the air.

She had made sure to bring a little of everything, wanting Ashley to have the freedom to choose what she liked.

"Here," she said, her voice softening as she faced Ashley, the earlier sternness long gone. "These just ca out of the oven. Try so and tell which one you like best, so the pastry chefs can take note and make it for you more often, and even better next ti."

Seeing how concerned they both were, Ashley’s face flushed a deep red as she gave a shy nod. She tried to steady herself, swallowing back the urge to cry, but instead, a small hiccup escaped her.

The sound drew even more attention, and under their watchful gazes, her cheeks burned hotter, turning as red as a ripe tomato.