Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 77

Emily’s POV

I bent to tighten the straps on my training boots.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” his voice rumbled behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, keeping my expression as innocent as possible. “Doing what?”

Nathan didn’t answer right away. His eyes moved slowly down my body, lingering on the hem of my shorts. “Walking around like that,” he muttered. “It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

A smile tugged at my lips. Maybe I was. After last night—after the way he had stepped back just to make sure I was comfortable—everything felt different.

I wanted him. It was a constant, buzzing heat under my skin.

I straightened up and walked past him, making sure my hips swayed just a bit more than usual.

A low growl followed me. “You little menace.”

I laughed and stepped onto the grass. The lake behind us was beautiful, with thin morning mist curling over the water. It almost felt peaceful.

Then Nathan moved.

I barely had time to react before he twisted my arm behind my back and pulled me flush against his chest.

“Too slow,” he whispered into my ear.

His warm breath hit my neck, and a jolt of electricity shot through me. I leaned back into him, my pulse leaping.

“I hate you,” I muttered, though we both knew it was a lie.

“No, you don’t.”

He adjusted my stance, his hand sliding low on my waist to nudge my feet apart. “Feet wider,” he ordered.

I obeyed instantly. I felt his smirk against the side of my neck. “Good girl.”

I tried to elbow him in the ribs to get away, but he caught my wrist and spun me around.

A second later, I was flat on my back in the grass with him looming over me. He pinned my wrists above my head, his heavy chest pressing into mine. He was warm, solid, and way too close.

“You’re distracted today,” he said, his eyes searching mine.

“You’re heavy,” I choked out.

He let out a short, rough laugh. “That’s not what your body is saying.”

I felt the heat rush to my face. He was right. My body was literally melting under him. I looked up at him, and everything inside me just caught fire. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I needed him more than my next breath.

Nathan didn’t wait. He crashed his lips onto mine.

Sparks. Tingling. A total firework show.

His lips were perfect. His scent—pine, rain, and pure heat—completely took over. My whole body was vibrating with a deep, heavy need. My skin felt like it was burning wherever he touched me.

A small, sweet groan escaped my throat, and I felt him shudder against me.

He let out a low moan, his hand sliding to the back of my head to pull me even closer, deepening the kiss until I was dizzy.

I grabbed his shirt, my other hand tangling in his hair, pulling at the strands. I could feel the raw, wild energy coming off him—it was like he was fighting his own wolf just to stay in control.

I was the one to break the kiss, gasping for air.

The heat in my belly coiled tighter, turning into something heavy and sharp.

A flash of heat, deep inside. It wasn’t the playful spark from before; it was violent. It felt wrong. My knees gave out, and I hit the cold floor.

It wasn’t just “warm” anymore—it was agony. A sharp, tearing pain exploded in my abdomen, so violent it forced me to my knees.

I crawled toward the bathroom, every inch of movement feeling like glass cutting through my veins.

“Help,” I whispered, my voice breaking. I couldn’t even scream; the pain was a thick, suffocating weight in my throat.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around me. “I’ve got you, little one,” a deep, familiar voice rumbled. Nathan hadn’t stayed outside after all.

He lifted me easily. I clung to him, burying my face in his shirt. He turned on the shower, the cold water spraying against the tiles, but the shock of the cold didn’t help. The pain only got worse.

I looked down and saw red. Blood was dripping onto the white floor. I reached down, my fingers coming back coated in it. A raw, jagged scream finally tore out of my lungs.

Nathan grabbed my hand immediately, pulling it away so I couldn’t see. He cupped my face with his other hand, forcing me to look directly into his dark, fierce eyes.

“Don’t look at it,” he said, his voice hard but steady. “You don’t need to see that. Look at me, Emily.”

Another wave of pain hit me, and I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside.

Despite his command, I couldn’t help but look down at my arm, and I froze. Thin lines of white light were bleeding through my skin, sharp and rhythmic, forming an ancient, glowing pattern.

Suddenly, a voice—hollow, ethereal, and ancient—echoed not in the room, but deep within my mind.

“Emily, the first trial begins. Prepare yourself.”

The Moon Goddess’s words were the last thing I heard before the world tilted, and darkness finally took me.