Eighth-Born Luna (Emily and Nathan) novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166

Nathan’s POV

“Emily… where is his mark?”

The words hung in the air. Even Marcus stopped messing around.

Emily blinked at me, her head tilting. “What?”

I leaned closer, my hands shaking as I gently pushed her hair back from her neck.

Nothing.

There was no trace of Declan anywhere on her skin. It looked completely untouched, smooth and flawless. Like he rogue had never even existed.

Emily’s eyes widened as she felt my fingers tracing her bare skin.

“…It’s gone.”

Marcus swore quietly behind me, and Poppy gasped. Even Doctor Reed paused, a bloody towel in his hand.

I couldn’t move. For the longest time, that mark had been a ghost in our home.

It was there every time I kissed her, every time I held her close–a constant reminder of what had been forced on her. And now–there was nothing.

Emily slowly lifted her own hand, her fingers hovering over mine.

“I burned it out,” she whispered. “I burned every trace of the rogues from my body back during the Blood Moon.”

“But… how?” I asked.

“I just did it. I want to control my own destiny, not some rogue,” she said, her eyes flashing with defiance. “The ates… the priestesses said that the Moon Goddess-”

“They were all wrong,” she interrupted firmly.

Asher–knowing we would have puppies–stirred within the bond, a powerful surge of hope rising up inside me.

Emily looked up at me, her eyes bright and swimming with tears. “Nathan…”

I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her to me and kissed her, deeply, with a desperate need to make sure this wasn’t a dream. That she was really here, free.

Emily caught her fingers in my shirt, anchoring herself to me, kissing me back just as fiercely. The rest of the oom faded into the background.

“Well,” Marcus muttered somewhere behind us. “Good for them,”

“What? They started it.”

I barely heard them. My entire world narrowed down to the woman in my arms. The warmth of her lips, her hands holding onto me, her heartbeat matching mire perfectly. She was mine. Fully, completely mine now. No rogue magic, no curse. Just us.

When I finally pulled back, Emily’s breath was warm against my face, her forehead resting against mine.

She had become a part of every thought, every instinct, every single future I envisioned for myself. We were two parts of the same soul.

Emily tilted her head up, her eyes crinkling. “You’re thinking too loudly again.”

Marcus groaned dramatically from the door. “They’re doing the creepy mate–link thing again.”

Emily laughed softly into my shirt, and hearing that sound after everything we had survived felt like finally

catching my breath after being underwater.

Behind us, Doctor Reed gently examined the babies Beatrice one last time.

When his mouth replaced his fingers, he didn’t just kiss; he pressed his lips against the sensitive vein in my neck,

his stubble grazing my skin, his beard–roughened chin scraping my shoulder.

When his hand finally slid down to my waist, his thumb hooked into the elastic of my panties, pulling them down with a smooth, decisive motion. He shifted, his knee nudging my legs further apart, his palm sliding over my inner

high, his skin searingly hot against mine. He adjusted his pace to my breathing, his fingers circling the slick, aching center of me, his pressure firm, deliberate, and maddeningly slow.

He bridged the gap between us, his hips shifting, his friction against me so precise it made me gasp. He stopped ust at the edge, his forehead pressing firmly into mine, our sweat–slicked noses brushing. I could feel the hard idge of him, the tension in his thighs as he held his weight on his forearms, trembling with the effort of holding jack.

“Look at me, Emily,” he commanded, his voice ragged with restraint.

I opened my eyes, and he was there, completely focused, his pupils blown–out and dark with a hunger that was entirely mine. He was giving me that last second to pull back, but I only pulled him closer.

When he pushed forward, the sudden, sharp resistance made me arch my back, my heels digging into the nattress. I clutched his biceps, my nails biting into his skin. He stopped, his arms locking straight to keep from going deeper, his face twisting in a mask of intense concentration. He began to move–a rhythmic, grinding motion of his hips, his stomach muscles rippling as he controlled the depth.

He didn’t just take; he gave. He guided me through the rhythm, his movements slow and deliberate, a master eaching a novice the language of desire. He watched my face with a fierce, worshipful intensity, as if I were the only thing of value in the world.

Nathan let out a low, guttural growl that resonated deep within his chest. He shifted, his hands locking onto my ips with bruising intent, and he buried his face in the sensitive crook of my neck.

I felt the sudden, sharp graze of his teeth against my skin–a possessive pressure. A white hot, flooded my neck, ouring from his bite into my blood, binding us in a way that felt like a physical chain locking around my heart. My egs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, my spine bowing off the mattress as the climax tore through me.

He surged forward, his body shuddering against mine, his groan a raw vibration that traveled from his throat through the bond and straight into my spirit. He collapsed into me, cradling me as if he were afraid I might shatter, his arms tightening around my waist, keeping us fused together long after the world had stopped spinning.

In the quiet that followed, he didn’t retreat. He stayed, his breath finally evening out against the very spot he had claimed, his hand stroking my hair with a tenderness that made tears prick at my eyes.

“Mine,” he murmured against my neck, his voice no longer just a demand, but a sacred, binding vow.

“Yours,” I whispered back, pressing my cheek against his, feeling the pulse of our newly forged bond beating in perfect rhythm. Finally, I knew exactly what it meant to belong.