His Rogue Luna is a Princess (Mia and Derek) novel Chapter 216

hapter 216

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the air between us thick with unsaid things.

Finally, I broke it.

“If you wanted spiritual guidance,” I said, glancing sideways at him, “why not ask your own pack’s spiritual counselor?”

He hesitated.

I caught it–the subtle stiffening of his shoulders, the flicker of something dark across his face.

And then he spoke.

“The night of the Moonbinding,” he said, voice quiet, “when I offered my token into the fire…the Moonstone Priestess said something to me.”

I slowed my pace slightly, giving him room.

“What did she say?”

He was silent for a moment, like he was weighing the words carefully in his mouth before letting them go. The sunlight shifted above us, dappling the path in broken patches of gold and green. The breeze carried the scent of wild mint and damp earth, ancient and clean.

Finally, Derek looked over at me, his expression solemn.

“The Moon does not weave blindly,” he said. “She ties the thread to the soul.”

The words hung between us, heavy and electric, vibrating along the bond like a distant drumbeat.

I felt them slide under my skin, sinking deep into the spaces still raw from the night before.

Something about them–simple as they were–felt true in a way that made my bones ache. Nox had whispered the same thing maybe at the same time.

“And you think that’s related to what happened to us last night?” asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded once, the movement slow and certain.

“Yes.”

We walked on in silence after that.

The path twisted and narrowed, winding its way deeper into the woods behind the packhouse. The trees here grew closer together, their branches arching overhead until the sunlight fractured into long, pale beams that painted the forest floor in ligh

and shadow.

It was beautiful out here–wild and sacred, untouched by the politics and wars that had shaped so much of our lives.

I let my fingers brush lightly against the rough bark of a passing tree, grounding myself.

For the first time, I realized exactly where we were.

The Moonstone Sanctuary wasn’t far from the old grotto.

The one where Derek and I had-

I swallowed hard, heat rushing up the back of my neck.

The memories came in an unstoppable rush: the glint of moonlight on water, the press of his hands against my skin, the way the world had fallen away until there was nothing left but us.

I knew the moment Derek recognized it too.

I didn’t have to look at him to feel it–the way his body tensed almost imperceptibly, the sudden shift in his breathing.

The bond between us flared, sharp and aching, a tether tugging tad between two souls who had once known each other in the most primal ways possible.

Neither of us spoke.

Neither of us had to.

The past was a living thing here, stitched into the rocks, the roots, the water that still sang softly somewhere beyond the trees.

It pressed against us with every step we took toward the Sanctuary, a reminder of what we had lost.

I felt the shift in him–the tightening of his body, the sudden spike of awareness in the bond.

Neither of us said a word. There was nothing that needed saying.

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