Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 93

Emily’s POV

I woke up with a scream stuck in my throat.

I could still see the rogue clawing at his neck, his eyes begging me to stop.

I sat up fast, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room was dark, but the reality hit me harder than any

nightmare. The castle. The Rogue Kingdom.

It was all real.

My hands shook as I pressed them to my face. Goddess. I killed them.

I couldn’t stay in bed.

I kicked the blankets aside and walked barefoot into the bathroom, desperate for cold water to wash away the

nemories.

I splashed my face, but when I looked up at the mirror, I saw it.

The silver collar around my neck looked ugly. It was a leash a constant reminder that I wasn’t free.

I touched the cold metal carefully and pulled my fingers away instantly. The silver burned my skin. Strange.

The inside of the collar didn’t burn my skin. A thin strip of dark leather lined the inner part against my throat.

But the outer silver surface still stung whenever I touched it.

I hated the silver collar. It cut me off from everything–I couldn’t reach Nyx, and I couldn’t feel Nathan anymore.

Just a hollow, aching void where my wolf used to be.

What was Nathan doing? Was he tearing the world apart to find me? Was he blaming himself? My eyes burned, nd I forced myself to look away before I broke down.

I looked down at my arm. Two glowing white runes were now etched into my skin. Two trials done.

A sharp crack rang out from below, followed by shouting.

I walked to the window and looked out. The courtyard was already busy, even though the sun wasn’t fully up. togues were everywhere, they were training.

And there he was. At the center of it all.

The Rogue King’s son.

He moved with a terrifying, smooth precision.

He was fast, his movements blurred as he fought. One rogue tried to strike him, but three seconds later, the man

5:02 pm

When the next rogue attacked, he twisted, drove an elbow into the man’s throat, and shoved him into the dirt like

he was nothing.

I couldn’t look away I watched the muscles in his back move under his sweat–damp skin. He was dangerous, but not like Silas. There was no madness in him–only discipline.

A younger rogue came up to him and started talking fast. The Rogue King’s son grabbed a cloth and wiped blood ‘rom his knuckles, listening intently.

Then, his head snapped up.

He looked straight at my tower. Straight at me.

He knew exactly where I was. I scrambled back, hiding behind the heavy curtains, my pulse racing. Why did it feel ike I’d just been caught doing something wrong?

A knock sounded at my door.

I opened the door, and Cindy was there, her face wearing a look that said she knew exactly what I’d been doing.

“You’ve been invited,” she said.

“To what?”

“Declan wants you to join him for breakfast.”

I frowned. “Who? I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“The Rogue King’s son.”

Oh, so his name is Declan. Wonderful.

專專

Cindy led me through the halls until we stopped at a pair of massive black doors.

She pushed them open without a word.

The room was part office, part war room. Maps took up one wall, and weapons lined another. Near a stone basin

tood Declan.

He was shirtless, because of course he was. He was washing blood from his skin with cold water, the red streaks noving slowly over his scars.

My eyes tracked a single drop as it slid down the center of his chest. I forced my gaze away, but he’d already seen.

“You stare a lot for someone who claims to hate rogues,” he said. His voice was rougher than yesterday. Low and

warm.

I crossed my arms. “You should really wear a shirt when you have guests or prisoners.”

5:02 pm

The corner of his mouth ticked upward. “And miss watching you get red in the face?”

I glared. “I’m not red”

“Mm.”

He grabbed a dark towel, drying his hands before walking to a long table by the windows. Breakfast was spread out – fresh bread, fruit, eggs, and tea. It looked like actual, normal food.

He pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

“I’m not your guest.”

“No,” he agreed, his tone calm. “You’re much more complicated than that.”

That answer poked at my temper, mostly because I wanted to know what he meant. I stayed exactly where I was.

He poured himself coffee. “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That’s a lie.”

“I hate when rogues think they know everything.”

That faint smile came back. “And I hate when prisoners pretend they aren’t exhausted.”

Every time I spoke to him, it felt like a match I couldn’t quite win.

And the worst part? I didn’t even know why I was giving him so much attitude. Usually, I’m more controlled, but omething about him just made me want to snap.

He watched me for a beat, then he pushed away from the table and walked toward me.

I didn’t move. I lifted my chin, staying stubborn even as he stopped right in front of me..

Declan was too close. I could smell the cold water on him.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached past me toward a fruit bowl and plucked a single grape from the vine. le held it up to my lips.

“Try it.”

I stared at him, refusing to budge. “You think I’m stupid enough to eat something from a rogue?”

One side of his mouth twitched. “You think I’d poison you after my father spent years hunting you down?”

“That honestly sounds exactly like something a rogue would do.”

A low laugh broke from his chest.

5:02 pm

It’s not poisoned,” he said.

“Easy for you to say.”

His eyes darkened with a hint of amusement.

Without warning, he popped the grape into his own mouth. He did it slowly, making sure I saw every movement. My traitorous eyes followed the way his throat moved as he swallowed.

“There,” he said, his voice steady. “Still alive.”

I hated the tiny spark of relief that flickered through me. He pulled another grape from the vine and held it out

gain.

“Now eat.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

Nope.”

The answer was instant. No shame, no hesitation.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re still talking to me.”

I opened my mouth to snap back, but he moved the grape closer until it brushed against my lower lip.

The air between us changed. It felt sharp, like a live wire. Neither of us moved. We just stood there, caught in a

ull I didn’t want to admit was there.

Then, slowly, I took the fruit from his fingers.

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