His Rogue Luna is a Princess (Mia and Derek) novel Chapter 102

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Chapter 102

Tefight Pierce’s next panch, twisted his arm behind his hack, and slammed him to the floor with enough force to rattle the abbnes in both our bodies,

“You leading the rogue factions now?” I shouted, my voice like gravel and fire. “You attacking peaceful packs? Families?”

He laughed

Actually laughed–blood spilling from his lip, teeth stained red.

“Wouldn’t you just like to how?”

I hauled him up by his collar, nose to nose, my breath ragged. My vision narrowed to the monster in front of me

Did you kill my father?” I demanded.

His eyes glittered with triumph.

He spet blood into my face.

“Yes,” he hissed. “And I’d kill him again.”

Something inside me snapped

The control I’d fought so hard to master–the training, the strategy, the calm under pressure–it all dissolved in a single heartbeat

I didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t think.

1 ripped him apart.

My claws tore through skin and muscle like paper. My fists pounded bone. I felt cartilage collapse beneath my hands, ribs shatter, blood hot and slick between my fingers. He screamed once. Then not again.

I didn’t stop until there was nothing left in him that could fight back.

Not because I wanted to.

Because I had to.

Because if I didn’t end him, he’d do it again. He’d keep killing, keep leading, keep poisoning every fragile thing we were trying to protect.

When it was over, I stood over his broken body, chest heaving, hands dripping.

I didn’t feel satisfaction.

I felt empty

Like I’d finally dug out the rot but had to tear open part of myself to do it.

ELENA

The fighting slowed.

Bodies littered the floor.

Some still. Some twitching.

Blood pooled across the tile in long, sluggish streaks, seeping into the grout. It smelled like copper and sweat and death.

Chapter 102

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My fur was matted with it some of it mine, most of it not

Theld the shift for a moment longer, heart still hammering, my boy buzzing with leftover adrenaline. Nox didn’t want to let

6 she paces beneath my skin, ears twitching, teeth bared. But the danger had passed.

Mostly.

I shitted back, my legs trembling slightly as they took shape. I grabbed the swimsuit I’d been wearing and pulled it back on with chumsy hands, tabtle sticking to dampskin.

The room was quiet now, except for the sound of heavy breathing and the distant groans of a dying rogue. Brock was still growling low in his chest, standing over the body of one of the inn who had come at me, his claws dripping, his eyes locked on the last movement in the room–just in case.

Joe was dragging another out the front door, not gentle about it,

I turned slowly, scanning the space.

And there he was.

Derek.

Standing at the center of the room like a storm that had just passed through. His chest was rising and falling fast, his shirt tom at the collar, soaked with sweat and blood.

His knuckles were split open, raw and red. One band still curled like it hadn’t let go of the last punch.

At his teet-

Pierce.

Or what was left of him. A ruined, broken thing

The sight of it should have made me feel something. Relief. Triumph. Justice

But all I felt was dread. The kind that sinks in your bones. The kind that whispers that something’s still wrong.

I looked around at the wolves still standing.

Derek.

Joe.

Brock.

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