The Luna Queen's Rebirth (Ellie and Dominic) novel Chapter 407

Chapter 407

“I’m not sure yet,” he muttered, “but I’m going to find a way. And if she is dead, then I’ll find her bones. Either way, she’s coming back in a box.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I said.

“I know I don’t.” His expression softened. “I can’t undo two lifetimes, Ellie. I can’t give you back what was taken from you. This is the only thing I have to offer instead. Answers. Call it an apology, for all of it.” He hesitated, and when he went on, the words came out softer, quieter. “And I want you to know that I’m not doing this to win you back. If you never come home, if this is the last time we’re ever in the same room, I’ll live with that. You don’t owe me anything. But I owe you so much more than I ever gave you, and I want to start with this,”

I didn’t know when we had drifted so close. His hands were still on my shoulders, mine still curled in his lapels, and somewhere in the middle of all of it, the space between us had shrunk to almost nothing. His gaze dropped to my mouth. The bond pulled taut between us, and for one dizzy second, I was certain he was going to kiss me.

For one dizzy second, I wanted him to.

But then Dominic stepped back. The cold rushed in to fill the space he left behind, and I had to stop myself from pulling him back against me to warm myself again.

“I’m leaving tonight,” he said. “Now, actually. I’ll grab my things from the hotel and drive straight home to get started. I can’t sit in a hotel room until morning. Not with what I know now.”

I nodded mutely, my tongue too thick and heavy in my mouth for words. He turned for the door, and the panic that shot through me then had nothing to do with secrets.

“Write to me,” I blurted out. “When you find something. Even if you don’t. The mail takes weeks out here, but… write anyway.”

Dominic looked back at me, his lips tugging upward into something small and real. “Every week,” he said. “Even if all I have to report is the weather.”

And then he was gone, out into the snow, shoulders hunched against the wind. I stood at the window and watched him go, one streetlamp at a time, until the night took him and there was nothing left to watch.

Sixteen hours. A manhunt for a woman who could already be dead. Letters that would take weeks to crawl over the mountains, if they made it at all.

I might not see him again for a long time.

I might not see him again, period.

My vision blurred. I pressed my hands to my eyes and turned away from the door.

I was still standing there when the bell jingled behind me. I spun around so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet, heart leaping stupidly-and found my father in the doorway instead, stamping snow off his boots, his cane in one

hand.

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