Rejected Luna Queen

Nolan’s POV

As the meeting concluded, I was eager to leave. My mind was already racing with plans to arrange Nesta’s art room as I had promised. I don’t want to keep her waiting for long.

“Or you want to see what she is going to do.” My wolf mocked but I shrug him off.

I had to focus on something productive, something that might help her feel more at home here. Just as I stood to make my exit, Rowan’s voice called out, halting me in my tracks.

“Nolan, a word,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I turned to face him, noting the tension in his posture and the unusual look in his eyes. He had been acting strangely throughout the entire meeting, and it seemed like I was the only one who had noticed.

His behaviour was usually so composed and decisive, but today there was an edge to him that set me on high alert. I think it has something to do with me and Nesta but I ain’t gonna talk.

“Sure,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. “What’s up?”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Rowan waited until the room had emptied, the heavy doors closing with a soft thud behind the last of the council members. He walked over to me, his steps measured and deliberate, before he spoke again.

noticed you were in a hurry to leave,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scrutinised me. “Where were you off in such a rush?”

I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I have some things to take care of,” I said evasively. “Is there something you need?” Rowan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might press the issue. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Nolan, I need to know that you’re focused. There’s a lot going on right now, and we can’t afford any

distractions.”

“I know. I am focused. But what’s going on with you? You’ve been off all morning.” I met his gaze, seeing the concern there, and nodded.

Rowan’s expression softened slightly, but there was still a shadow in his eyes. There has never been secrets between us brothers until lately. Not that I am hiding anything from him. He always knows but he is hiding from me.

“It’s just… a lot to manage. The kingdom, the rogues, everything. And Nesta…” he hesitated.

I felt a pang of something sharp and painful at the mention of her name, but I forced myself to stay calm. “What about

Nesta?”

Rowan hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “She’s… she’s important, Nolan. We need to make sure she’s safe, and that she feels safe here. It’s not just about the kingdom anymore. There are personal stakes involved.”

I nodded slowly, understanding more than he realised. “I know. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“Just… be careful, okay? We can’t afford to make any mistakes.” Rowan looked at me, a mixture of gratitude and something else in his eyes.

“I will,” I assured him. “You take care of the kingdom. I’ll take care of everything else.”

He nodded, and I could see the relief in his eyes. “Thank you, Nolan.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead.

Nesta’s art room was a small gesture, but it was something. And right now, every little bit counts. It’s not like I want her to be comfortable here but since she requested, it’s my job to deliver.

I hurried out of the meeting room, my mind already racing with ideas for how to make the space perfect for her. Whatever else was happening, I needed to keep my promise. It was the least I could do..

I found the room closest to mine–a spacious guest room that had been rarely used. It was perfect for Nesta’s art room. The large windows let in ample natural light, and the high ceilings gave it an airy, open feel.

Without wasting time, I called for my guards.

“I need this room cleared out and ready for a transformation,” I instructed, my voice firm. “And fetch all the art supplies you can find–everything an artist could ever need.”

The guards nodded and set to work. I watched as they carefully moved the furniture out of the room. piece by piece. The old bed, side tables, and dresser were all taken away, leaving the space empty and ready for its new purpose.

While they worked, other guards began bringing in the art supplies. They carried in easels of various sizes, blank canvases, sketch pads, and a wide array of brushes.

There were sets of acrylic, oil, and watercolour paints, as well as pastels, charcoal sticks, and graphite pencils. A sturdy work table was brought in, along with a comfortable chair and a rolling stool.

Imade sure they included a selection of high–quality paper, both for drawing and painting. Palettes, jars for water, and an array of different palettes for mixing colours were also brought in.

Shelves were installed along one wall to hold the supplies, keeping everything organised and within easy reach.

By the time the guards had finished, the room looked like a true artist’s haven. The transformation was remarkable. The once simple guest room was now a bright, inviting space, filled with the potential for creation.

I stood back and surveyed the room, feeling a sense of satisfaction. This was for Nesta. She deserved a place where she could express herself, where she could find a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

“Good work, everyone,” I said, nodding to the guards. “Now, leave. I’ll take it from here.”

They bowed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind them. I walked around the room, checking everything one last time. It was perfect. Everything was in its place, ready for her to use.

Now, all that was left was to show Nesta. I hoped this gesture would mean something to her, that it would help her feel more at home here.

And maybe, just maybe, it would be a step towards something more. Do I want something more? Fucking hell she loves

someone.

I made sure everything was in place before leaving the room. I opened the windows to let in the natural sunlight because I knew artists loved that.

I used to have a friend who was an artist, and he always said the best light was natural light. The room was now filled with a warm, inviting glow, perfect for inspiring creativity.

I looked around at the white walls, now bright and clean, ready to be adorned with Nesta’s art.

Every detail had been carefully considered: the easels standing ready, the work table perfectly placed, the shelves stocked with supplies. It was all in order, and I was sure Nesta would love this.

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Making of dextrange buding a fine glance at them. Everything was perfect. This was for her, a place

ened and left the room, closing the door way behind me. I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of

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