Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 94

Chapter 94

Emily

Emily’s POV

The rogues led me through a different section of the castle. At least, I thought it was different. Everything here was a blur of black stone, dark torches, and endless halls.

But I was starting to pay attention. I noted which stairs went down, which halls led to the courtyard, and which rogue guards were actually watching.

A reckless idea started to take shape.

If I could distract them for just a few seconds, I could hide. I could think. I could stay alive long enough to find a way out of this hellhole.

The rogue guards turned another corner.

Now.

I didn’t hesitate. I drove my elbow back into one rogue’s stomach and shoved the second one hard against the wall. They both grunted in surprise, cursing as they stumbled.

All those training sessions with Nathan were finally paying off. He would have been proud of me.

I ran.

My bare feet hit the cold stone floors as shouting broke out behind me.

“STOP HER!”

Adrenaline surged through me. Left corridor. Another turn. More stairs. I had no idea where I was headed, but I didn’t stop.

I saw an open door and ducked inside, slamming it shut.

It was a bedroom. Massive bed, a wardrobe, and dim lighting. Think, Emily. Think.

The sound of heavy boots thundered in the hallway. I scrambled toward the wardrobe and climbed inside, burying myself in the hanging clothes until the fabric covered me completely.

My heart hammered against my ribs, the only sound in my ears.

One minute passed. Then two.

The hallway stayed quiet. No shouting. No heavy boots. For a second, I let myself believe it. I’d actually made it. They’d run right past the door. Now all I had to do was—

The bedroom door creaked open.

Casual footsteps thudded across the floor, stopping right in front of my hiding spot. My body went rigid. No. No, no, no.

The wardrobe doors were ripped open.

There he was. Declan.

He leaned against the frame, looking relaxed and completely satisfied with himself.

“Caught you.”

I stared at him, my pulse racing with frustration.

He looked pleased. A slow, infuriating smirk pulled at his lips.

He stepped back half an inch and held out his hand. “Come out.”

I shook my head.

“Emily, you can either come out on your own, or I’ll pull you out myself. And believe me—the second option will only be pleasant for me.”

I buried myself deeper into the coats, my head shaking before he could even finish.

“No.”

Declan exhaled, sounding like I was being a major inconvenience. “That wasn’t really a request, Emily.”

“I noticed.”

His smirk pulled wider. He was loving this. The man actually looked entertained that I’d just leveled two guards and sprinted through his father’s castle barefoot like a maniac.

“Emily,” he said, his voice reaching that patient, steady tone. He kept his hand out. “Get out of there.”

“Make me.”

The words were out before I could bite them back.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy. Declan’s eyes changed, the color bleeding into a darker, murkier shade. It wasn’t anger. It was worse. It was interest.

“That,” he murmured, “was probably a mistake.”

I hated that he could make me feel anything other than pure rage.

He stepped toward the wardrobe. I shoved myself back until the fabric of the coats tangled around my arms.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Come in here.”

The air in the wardrobe shifted. I had laughed. Here. With him. The realization hit us both at the same time, and suddenly, I was aware of everything. His hand firm on my waist. My legs tangled against his. The heat coming off him in waves.

Too close. He was way too close.

Declan looked down at me, his expression turning hungry. Darker.

A heavy knock slammed against the door. “Prince Declan?”

Neither of us moved.

“We lost the prisoner,” the guard called out from the hall.

Declan’s gaze stayed locked on mine. He didn’t blink. His thumb brushed once against my hip, a slow, possessive motion.

“No,” he said, his voice perfectly calm. “You didn’t.”

The knock came again.

“We’re sorry for interrupting you.”

Declan’s face went cold instantly. Every bit of warmth vanished, replaced by a controlled, untouchable mask.

It was like the man who had just been holding me never existed.

His hands tightened on my waist for a heartbeat—then he shoved me away.

Hard.

I stumbled right into the rogue guards as the bedroom door swung open.

One of them grabbed my arm roughly before I could find my footing. Declan stepped back.

He looked at the two rogues. “Take her back to her room.”

The guards bowed their heads immediately.

Declan’s eyes darkened. “And if you lose her again…” His voice dropped to a low crawl that made my skin cold. “I’ll skin both of you alive.”

The rogues went rigid. That was real fear.

Declan looked away as if he’d already lost interest. “Go.”

The guards moved fast, pulling me toward the hallway. I made the mistake of looking back just as the doors began to close.

Declan was still watching me. And the look in his eyes right before the wood clicked shut wasn’t cold at all.