His Rogue Luna is a Princess (Mia and Derek) novel Chapter 79

Chapter 79

I hesitated, then moved to the sideboard and poured another drink. He probably didn’t need it, but a controlled Derek didn’t suit my purposes. The bottle sloshed too loudly in the

stillness.

“Here,” I said, kneeling slightly to offer it to him.

He took it without looking. Our fingers touched. No spark. No reaction. Just motion. Reflex.

So I sat down beside him: Close. Careful. Not touching. Not yet.

He stared straight ahead, like if he focused hard enough, he could unmake whatever memory was playing on a loop behind his eyes.

I waited a beat. Then another.

“I saw the press conference,” I offered gently. “You handled it well.”

Still nothing.

I pressed on. “And the summit. It’s done now. That has to be a relief, right?”

Nothing.

His lips parted slightly, like he might say something. But all he did was exhale.

I turned to face him more fully, angling my body toward his. Goddess, I needed him to remember me–remember the good times.

They seemed so far away. Those days when he still revered me. When the path before us seemed so simple and easy to walk.

“Remember that summer when you dislocated your shoulder diving off the cliffs outside Westhaven? You were so determined to prove you could swim farther than Jacob.”

Still no reaction.

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I smiled faintly. “You barely made it halfway. Swore the water cheated.”

His mouth twitched. Barely. A ghost of something.

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“I had to sneak into the infirmary just to bring you a decent blanket. You always hated hospital sheets.”

Silence.

I leaned in a little closer. “Or that winter when you dared me to climb the watchtower barefoot? And then got stuck trying to follow me?”

This time, his fingers tightened ever so slightly around the glass.

“We were so stupid,” I said, more softly now. “But you laughed so much back then. You used to be light, Derek. You used to breathe.”

He flinched–barely perceptible–but it was there. The faintest twitch of his temple.

“I would do anything to take away whatever this is,” I said, my voice dipping lower. I reached up, let my fingers graze along the edge of his jaw. “Whatever it is you’re carrying, you don’t have to do it alone.”

Still nothing. But he didn’t pull away.

Then, as if summoned from the depths, he murmured a single word.

“…Elena.”

Barely audible. Barely formed. But unmistakable.

And then he slumped back against the cushions, the drink slipping from his hand and spilling onto the rug, forgotten.

I stood quickly and stepped into the hallway. “Joe,” I called, my voice gentle but urgent. “Caroline. I need help getting Derek to bed.”

They appeared within seconds, and between the three of us, we got him off the couch and

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to the stairs. He was conscious, barely. Joe grunted with effort and annoyance, but didn’t ask questions.

When we reached his room, I turned to them both. “I’ve got it from here.”

Caroline hesitated. “You sure?”

I nodded. “He just needs sleep.”

They left, murmuring something about alerting the staff.

I closed the door.

Then turned back to the bed.

as half–unconscious, one arm slung over his face, chest rising and falling in slow,

breaths. His shirt was untucked, one sleeve rolled up, his boots still on.

at the edge of the bed for a long moment, heart hammering, mind racing.

Then I crossed to the window, closed the curtains.

And went to work.

DEREK

Sunlight streamed through the slats of the curtains.

My head throbbed.

I groaned, pressing a hand to my temple, the taste of scotch and something unnamable thick on my tongue.

Then I froze.

Someone was beside me.

Warm.

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Chapter 79

Soft.

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