Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Emily’s POV

They came for me after sunset.

Two rogue guards shoved the tower door open. Cindy stood behind them, holding a scrap of black silk that was supposed to be a dress.

“Time to impress the Rogue King,” she said.

I forced myself off the bed. She gave me a moment to change, and the thin fabric clung to my skin, barely reaching mid-thigh. It felt like wearing a spiderweb.

As we walked through the castle, the temperature plummeted, the damp stone soaking up whatever heat was left in my body.

“You look nervous,” Cindy said to me.

“I’m a prisoner waiting for my second round of torture,” I replied. “I’m doing great.”

Cindy hid a smile.

“Try not to provoke Silas tonight,” she warned under her breath. “Just follow every order he gives you.”

That answer stayed with me long after she stopped speaking.

Eventually the corridor opened onto a massive inner courtyard hidden deep inside the castle walls.

I froze. The ritual grounds were carved directly into the black bedrock, the ancient runes glowing with a faint, ghostly silver.

Thick rings of silver lined the edge of the circle, packed with dark crystals that throbbed with a rhythmic, living energy.

The power coming off that stone was heavy and ancient.

Hundreds of rogues surrounded the platform, a wall of muscle and scars. They weren’t standing in line; they were shoving each other, shouting, and whistling.

It was a sea of chaos. Some looked at the stage with hungry eyes, their tongues sliding over their teeth, while others laughed hoarsely, waiting for blood.

And there, at the center of the madness, sat the Rogue King. Silas.

Even from across the yard, he was the only thing that mattered. He sat lazily on a throne of jagged stone, one hand resting on the armrest while the other stayed pressed against his side.

The wound.

Cindy saw me watching him. “He’s over four hundred years old,” she whispered.

I snapped my head toward her. “What?”

“Not long ago, a captured Alpha managed to get a blade into him. It was poisoned—cursed. He hasn’t been able to heal since that day, and his life is slowly leaking out of him.”

Her voice turned sharp and secretive. “That’s why he’s been hunting you. He’s desperate. And a desperate Rogue King is the most dangerous kind.”

My stomach did a slow, sick roll. Everything was getting worse.

Two guards shoved me into the center of the silver circle and backed away instantly. As soon as I reached the middle of the platform, the witch activated the crystals. Beams of light shot up from the stones, forming a dome over us. It cut the witch and me off from everyone else.

She stepped forward and clicked open the silver collar, pulling it off my neck.

The second it fell away, Nyx’s voice crashed into my head.

“Emily, are you okay?” Nyx cried out in my mind. “I tried to reach you, but you couldn’t hear me. I’ve been clawing through the darkness this whole time, trying to get back to you.”

“I’m fine,” I told her. “What about you?”

“I never want to go back there,” she whispered, her voice shaking with fear. “Being torn away from you, feeling nothing but the dark… it was a nightmare.”

I wanted to calm my wolf, to promise her that I would never let that happen again. But I couldn’t lie to her. The truth was, I had almost no control over anything right now.

The rogues pressed closer to the edge of the circle. In the crowd, I saw Stella watching us.

I pulled my gaze away, scanning the crowd, and stopped. A man was walking through the mass of rogues.

He didn’t have to shove or growl; the crowd simply parted for him, a wave of bodies moving out of his path without a word. It was pure respect.

He was dressed in dark leather, his movements steady and precise. He was younger than Silas, but he carried a different kind of danger—something sharper, more focused. He walked straight to the throne and leaned down, whispering into Silas’s ear.

The Rogue King’s face clouded over.

The mountain wind cut through my thin dress, biting into my skin, and I pulled my arms tight against my chest.

Suddenly, the stranger turned.

His eyes locked onto mine. He didn’t look at me the way the others did.

He looked at me, his stare so heavy and deep it felt like he was reading every secret hidden in my mind. He was handsome. For one heartbeat, he reminded me of—

“But why, what power did you have?”

“To force others to obey without question,” she whispered.

A young wolf stumbled through the smoke nearby, clutching a blood-stained blade. He looked barely sixteen, his eyes wide with terror. Behind him, three massive warriors closed in. The boy looked straight at Seraphine.

“Please,” he begged. “Help me.”

I started to move toward him, but Seraphine’s grip on my arm was like a vice.

“Watch.”

The warriors surrounded the boy. One raised a heavy axe. The boy’s face crumpled. “PLEASE!”

My chest felt tight, the air leaving my lungs. “Do something!”

Seraphine didn’t blink. “The power you seek is not mercy,” she said coldly. “It is domination.”

The axe began its descent.

“STOP!”

The word tore from my throat, and everything froze. The axe stopped inches from the boy’s neck. The wolves didn’t move—no blinking, no breathing. A heavy, thick weight covered the field.

I stared at my hands. “I did that?”

“Yes,” Seraphine said.

“This isn’t power,” I whispered, a chill running through me. “This is slavery.”

“No,” she said, stepping closer. “This is responsibility.”

The wolves began to shake, fighting my command. I could feel their minds clawing at the walls I’d built. It was too much, like holding back a hundred starving animals with a single thread. Pain exploded in my head.

“They’re suffering!” I gasped.

“All rulers command,” she said. “You must choose how to lead.”

“I don’t want this,” I said.