Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 92

One by one, the wolves started to break free. The axe moved toward the boy again. I finally understood the test—it wasn’t about control; it was about doing what was necessary.

I let my wolf out. When I spoke again, my voice sounded ancient.

“Kneel.”

The command hit like thunder. Every wolf dropped into the snow instantly. The earth vibrated from the force of it. The boy looked at me in awe, and Seraphine actually smiled.

Blinding light burst from the marks on my arms. Agony flooded my veins, and the vision shattered.

I opened my eyes and I was back on the stone circle. The ritual arena returned: the moonlight, the rogues, and the biting wind.

My knees hit the black stone hard. The rogues exploded into shouts. I looked down at my arm—a second glowing white rune was pulsing on my skin.

The second trial was over.

The old witch hovered over me.

“She passed!” She straightened and shouted toward the throne, her voice cutting through the noise.

“The persuasion gift! It’s awake!” To prove it, the witch grabbed my arm and held it up, showing everyone the second white rune pulsing on my skin.

The arena exploded into a mess of whistling, growling, and frantic cheering.

Across the platform, Silas leaned forward on his throne. His red eyes locked onto mine, cold and calculating.

He didn’t look impressed; he looked like a man who had just found a new weapon. He pointed toward four massive rogues standing at the edge of the crowd.

“You two,” he ordered, his voice lazy but lethal. “Step forward.”

The two rogues hesitated. They actually stopped, their eyes darting toward each other. Even these killers looked uneasy now. But the Rogue King’s word was law. One by one, they stepped into the ritual circle.

The noise from the crowd died down. Thousands of eyes were fixed on the center of the platform. Silas never looked away from me.

“Show us,” he said. “Demonstrate your new power.”

A cold dread flooded my veins. “No.”

A few rogues laughed, the sound jagged and mean.

The Rogue King didn’t laugh. His expression darkened, his face turning to stone. Slowly, his hand moved toward the silver dagger resting beside him. The red ruby began to glow with a hungry, pulsing light.

A pain ripped through my chest.

I screamed, the sound raw and desperate. It felt like invisible claws had wrapped around my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t think.

“DO IT,” Silas barked.

The command struck me. Before I could fight it, the power surged.

One of the rogues jerked violently. His own hand flew toward his throat, his face twisting with sudden confusion.

“No—”

His claws sliced deep across his neck. A spray of dark red blood hit his chest, and the crowd let out a deafening roar.

Horror flooded my veins. “No, no, no—”

But Silas only tightened his grip on that black dagger. The agony in my ribs doubled, crushing the air out of me.

“Again,” he demanded.

Cindy leaned in one last time. “I warned you,” she whispered. Then she backed away, leaving me alone in the center of the circle.

Silas stopped right in front of me. In his eyes were ugly red hunger. He looked sick and excited. The deaths had fed him. Seeing the blood on the stone had woken something up inside him.

The horror of it made my skin crawl. The Rogue King wasn’t just dealing with madness; he was the madness.

He reached out and moved his fingers slowly across my cheek. I flinched, pulling my face away from his hand. A dark, sharp smile pulled at his lips.

“Little Queen,” he murmured. His voice was a soft, terrifying caress. “I want you to moan beneath me, to take possession of every part of you,” he whispered.

Panic flared in my chest. I looked around, my eyes searching for any kind of support from Cindy or Stella, but they both turned their heads away with regret. They wouldn’t meet my gaze. The rogues were just a wall of eyes, watching the King claim his prize.

“Father, her time hasn’t come. She has to stay untouched for the rest of the trials.”

The mysterious guy stepped forward and spoke to the Rogue King.

He was his son? How many children had Silas actually fathered?

“Fine. After that…” The Rogue King’s smile grew sharper, more predatory. “You will belong entirely to me.”

Suddenly, he let go and turned away. The crowd parted for him instantly.

Cindy hurried over to help me up, but my legs wouldn’t work. Before I could fall back to the stone, the mysterious guy—the King’s son—reached out and offered me his hand.

“You should be careful,” he said, his voice sounding like a lesson I needed to learn. “Don’t give my father any more reasons to focus on you like that.”

I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me toward him, steadying me on my feet.

His dark eyes were locked on me. It wasn’t the hungry look Silas gave me. It was interest. Pure, cold interest.