Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 88

Emily’s POV

The pain was sharp. It felt like a knife carving into every cell of my body.

I just wanted it to end.

I forced my eyes open.

In the background, the witch kept mumbling her dark spells.

Through the blur, I saw a massive figure standing in the corner. He didn’t move. He just watched me like I was a

1. oy.

The witch shoved one last, violent burst of power into my heart. I screamed until my voice gave out.

“Done. She is yours now,” the witch rasped.

She handed a dagger to the man. A ruby on the hilt glowed with a sick, red light.

He walked toward me, his boots heavy on the stone. A large hand gripped my chin, forcing my face up.

Finally, I saw him.

The Rogue King.

His eyes glowed a deep, bloody red. He was huge, dressed in black leather. He might have been handsome once, out now a dark rot was spreading across his skin. He smelled like decay. I tried to pull away, but his grip was like

ron.

“Finally, little wolf,” he whispered. “You’re mine.”

“I will never… be yours,” I managed to breathe.

A cruel smile touched his lips. “Too late. This blade owns you now. Every part of you belongs to me.”

He waved the metal blade in front of my face. The runes on the steel pulsed, and the ruby on the hilt glowed like a Irop of fresh blood.

Nyx? Where are you? I reached for my wolf. I searched the back of my mind with everything I had left. Nothing.

He saw the fear in my eyes instantly. “Your wolf cannot help you here.” His hand–rough and gray with rot–slid lowly over my waist, “Your body and your power belong to me now.”

“I’d rather die.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You say that like it changes anything.”

Hatred clawed through me.

6:01 pm

For a second, he just stared at me.

Then he laughed quietly.

“Oh, little wolf.” The Rogue King stepped closer. “The Goddess truly told you nothing.”

Fear crawled up my spine.

“Even if you die,” he said softly, “your power still becomes mine.”

“No.” I shook my head instantly. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

His fingers traced the rune again.

“You’ve already awakened part of the Goddess’s gifts.” His red eyes darkened with hunger. “And once all eight powers surface…” His gaze locked onto mine. “I take them.”

“The Moon Goddess would never allow this.”

His expression changed instantly.

“The Goddess is a liar,” he snapped coldly. “She feeds children to fate and calls it destiny.”

The dungeon suddenly felt colder.

“If you survive the remaining trials,” he continued quietly, “I take everything.” His fingers brushed my chin ipward. “Your power. Your strength.” His voice dropped lower. “Even your longevity.”

My breath caught.

Longevity.

He smiled when he saw the fear on my face.

“But if you decide to kill yourself early…” he murmured, almost amused, “then I simply take what’s already wakened.” His thumb brushed slowly across my jaw. “You’d only make my life easier.”

“You’re a monster.”

‘Maybe,”

He leaned closer until I could feel his breath against my skin.

“So,” he whispered, “maybe don’t rush into dying just yet.”

Nyx, if you could hear me… what would you do? I searched the empty space in my mind where my wolf used to be. Think, Emily. Think. I was alone, but I wasn’t dead yet. If the Goddess wouldn’t help me, I had to help myself.

5:01 pm

I forced my chin up, ignoring the sharp agony in my limbs. If I was going to be a “vessel,” I was going to be an

expensive one.

“Fine,” I said, the word like a erack of a whip in the small room.

The Rogue King went still, his predatory gaze locking onto mine. He looked surprised, like a hunter whose prey had just stopped running and started baring its teeth.

“But on my conditions,” I added, my voice growing colder.

I didn’t need a wolf to be dangerous. I just needed a plan.

One dark brow lifted slowly. “You believe you’re in a position to negotiate?”

“If you want me to survive the rest of the trials, I won’t do it hanging from chains in a hole that smells like leath.” I stared him down, refusing to look away.

“I need rest. Real food. Fresh air. Sleep.” I looked around the filthy stone walls with open disgust. “And Goddess, he stench in here is making me sick.”

He let out a low, dry laugh. “You challenge me while chained to my wall. I almost admire the nerve.”

“I’m adapting,” I snapped.

A low chuckle escaped him—a deep, dangerous sound that made the witch flinch. He looked at me for a long noment before turning to the witch.

“Remove the chains.”

The witch moved forward, her movements hurried and rough as she fumbled with the silver locks.

“Careful,” he added quietly. The warning was sharp enough to make her hands shake.

Finally, the silver cuffs fell away. I felt my strength vanish the moment the support was gone. I slid toward the old floor, my legs too weak to hold my weight. Just as my knees hit the stone, the heavy dungeon door creaked

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify