Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 111

Chapter 111

Emily’s POV

Several rogue guards stood behind Declan.

He was smiling. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself, as if we were putting on a show just for him.

Beside me, Stella let out a broken, terrified sound.

Declan called out smoothly. “Come down, little wolves.”

Neither of us moved. I looked up again, desperate. I was right there. One more reach and I’d be over.

Declan’s smile vanished. “Get them down.”

The command snapped through the night like a whip. The guards surged forward.

“No!” I shouted, climbing higher, my muscles screaming.

A hand suddenly clamped around my ankle and yanked. I screamed as I was ripped from the vines, hitting the

ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.

Declan sat in front of me. “You really thought I was stupid enough not to notice?” he asked softly.

“You suddenly wanted privacy. In a remote part of the castle.” He tilted his head mockingly. “And I was supposed to believe that?”

“You are stupid,” I spat, my voice trembling with adrenaline. “If you can’t understand why anyone would want to get away from a monster like you.”

Something dark and sharp flashed in his eyes.

“I’ll fight you until my last breath,” I snarled.

“Oh really?” His gaze darkened. He reached out, his hand sliding slowly up my thigh beneath the silk of my dress.

I moaned at the sudden, possessive warmth of his touch. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “If those ire going to be your last breaths, Emily, I can’t wait to hear them.”

He glanced toward Stella, his expression turning cold. “Throw her in the dungeon. I’ll deal with her myself.”

“No!” I screamed. “She didn’t do anything! This was my idea!”

Stella collapsed at his feet, sobbing. “Please… please…” she cried, clutching at his leg. “Mercy…”

Declan looked down at her as if she were dirt on his boots. No pity. No emotion. Nothing.

“Take her away.”

“Declan, please!” I screamed again, but they dragged her off, her cries fading into the distance.

Then Declan looked up at the massive vines covering the castle walls. His face was terrifyingly calm.

“Burn them,” he commanded.

The guards hesitated, glancing at each other.

“All of them,” he barked. “Tonight.”

“As for you, Emily…” A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips, “You and I are going to have a private conversation.”

A chill settled deep in my bones.

I tried to shove him back, but suddenly he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

“Declan!” I screamed.

My hair fell over my face as the world flipped upside down. I started hitting his back immediately with both fists.

“Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!”

He ignored me completely and started walking toward the castle.

I kicked wildly, trying to twist free from his grip. “I hate you!”

“You already said that.”

I slammed my palm against his back again, Hard.

“Declan, let me go!”

His hand suddenly clamped around the back of my thighs, forcing my legs still when I tried kicking him again.

“You’re making this difficult on yourself, sweetheart.”

“I’ll make your life hell!”

A dark laugh rumbled through his chest.

I hit him again.

Nathan’s POV

A sharp knock at the door broke the heavy atmosphere. A guard stepped inside, and the second I saw his face, my blood turned to lead. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“There’s… a delivery for Alpha Nathan,” he said, his voice cracking.

Nobody spoke.

The guard’s hands were shaking as he held out a wooden box. My name was carved into the lid in messy black paint: To Alpha King Nathan.

“What is it?” I asked. My own voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

The guard hesitated, his eyes darting to my brother. “Respectfully, Alpha… maybe Liam should open it.”

The room felt like it had been emptied of oxygen. I stood up slowly, my legs heavy.

Liam stepped forward first. He took the box from the guard, his face twisting when he realized the bottom of the wood was damp. Dark, fresh blood began to drip onto the white carpet, one heavy bead at a time.

Poppy pressed her hand over her mouth. Jessie turned her head away.

Liam opened the box.

“What the fuck-”

The box slipped from his grip and hit the floor. Something rolled out, tumbling across the white carpet.

A cut off head.

Long white hair spilled across the floor, looking like tarnished moonlight against the blood–stained carpet.

Emily.

Poppy’s scream tore through the room.

Jessie broke down instantly, the sound of her crying filling the space.

My mother made a choked, broken noise and sank into the sofa, her eyes wide and blank. Marcus looked like he’d

been turned to stone.

But I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t move a single muscle.

I just stared into those glassy, unseeing eyes.

My mate.