His Missing Luna

CHAPTER 109

AMERIE

ANYTHING?

Nathan's body thrashes violently on the bed, his muscles contorting as if something is clawing its way back inside him. His growls are guttural, raw, and desperate—yet his body seems to fight against the return of his wolf.

That’s what my mother said. His body is fighting his wolf.

The sheets wrap around his legs like bindings, pulled taut by the force of his movements, and the bedframe rattles against the floor with every jolt of his trembling limbs.

His clenched fists and bulging muscles make it seem as if his skin might rip apart, and I can feel the agony searing through him as if it were my own. Every tremor, every tortured sound pulls at my heart, and I ache to reach out, to take his pain and make it mine. I need to hold him, to let him know I’m here.

But my mother’s power keeps me locked in place, a prison I can’t break free from.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Let me touch him. He needs me.”

“He’ll be fine, pumpkin. His wolf just needs to return to him,” my father says, his voice calm, though the air around him is anything but. His powers swirl around him in tendrils of silver-white light, casting strange, flickering shadows on the walls. His eyes burn with supernatural intensity, and the heat from his aura fills the room.

For a moment, I’m struck by how powerful he looks. The Alpha King, in all his glory, commanding life and death with his hands. He catches my eye, his brow arching slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. But his attention quickly returns to Nathan.

A guttural growl breaks through the room as Nathan’s eyes fly open, his body collapsing back against the bed. His chest heaves, and I see the shift—the moment when his wolf returns.

“Declan,” I call out, recognizing the presence of his wolf immediately.

“Don’t,” my mother warns, her tone gentle but firm. “Your father needs to ask him some questions first.”

I bite my lip, trembling as I force myself to stay silent.

“Submit to your Alpha,” my father commands, his voice so thick with authority that even I feel a wave of submission rush through me. My knees nearly buckle beneath the weight of his words.

Nathan’s head bows, Declan’s submission absolute.

“Do you remember who you are?” my father asks, his gaze locked on Declan.

“I am Declan, Nathan Hunt’s wolf,” comes the gravelly reply, his voice strained but steady.

“Where is your pack?”

“Thunderstorm.”

“Your mate?”

“Jessica... flower... baby.”

The sound of his words—my name—breaks something inside me. I choke back a sob, a weak smile tugging at my lips. He remembers me. He knows me.

“Do you want to return to Nathan?” my father’s voice cuts through the moment.

“He’s my human, and we need to find our mate!” Declan growls, lifting his head.

“Good answer,” my father says with a nod. “You will remember everything that happened. Now, I command you—return.”

His finger touches Nathan’s forehead, and a pulse of energy surges through the room. Nathan exhales sharply, his entire body stilling as the connection is re-forged.

“You can go to him now,” my mother’s voice whispers through the link as her power releases me.

Without hesitation, I rush forward, dropping to my knees beside the bed and cradling Nathan’s face in my hands. His skin is warm again, the terrible pallor of death fading. His breathing is soft, steady, and the wounds that once marred his face are gone. I press my lips gently to his forehead, feeling the sparks of our bond flicker and burn against my skin.

I can’t help the thrill that runs through me. The bond... It’s stronger now. We’re whole again.

The heavy ache in my chest tightens, as if something is slowly completing itself—something I thought I’d lost forever. I close my eyes and lean into the feeling, letting it wash over me.

I turn back to the room to say something to my parents, but find them gone.

Turning back to Nathan, I allow myself drink in his sleeping face. He’s no longer in pain, I tell myself.

“Princess, may we come in?” The voice of the elderly doctor pulls me from the trance. He stands at the doorway with a group of nurses and doctors, all looking at me with cautious eyes. “The king asked us to check the alpha.”

I nod, stepping back to let them work, though my hand lingers on Nathan’s. I won’t leave him.

I watch as they check him over, their movements precise and careful. They change the sheets, lifting Nathan’s now-still body with the ease of their werewolf strength. When they finish, the elderly doctor steps forward, offering me a warm smile.

“Your mate is in excellent condition, Princess. He should wake up soon.”

“Thank you,” I manage, my voice quiet. “Thank you for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank us,” he says with a kind smile. “We’re werewolves. We understand the bond.” His gaze softens. “Congratulations on finding him.”

I nod, but my heart is still heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry if I seemed harsh earlier. I didn’t mean to use my title to...”

“There’s no need to apologize,” he reassures me. “We all know what mates mean to us.”

They leave quietly, but as they go, the doctor pauses at the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to change out of those clothes, Princess? They’re covered in blood.”

I glance down at the dried blood staining my clothes. Nathan’s blood. I shake my head. “No... Not yet. Thank you.”

The door clicks shut, and I turn back to Nathan, crawling into the bed beside him. I pull the covers over us, careful not to disturb him as I wrap my arms around his torso. His head rests against my chest, his warm breath fanning across my skin.

This is where he belongs.

“I won’t leave until you wake up,” I whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hair. “I’ll be here.”

My fingers gently trace his jawline, and my chest tightens as memories of the past hours flash before my eyes—Nathan, bloodied and broken.

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” I murmur, my voice thick with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry for what I put you through. Please, forgive me. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Silence stretches on, and the room feels heavy with the weight of my words. I close my eyes, praying that when he wakes, he’ll still look at me the same way he always has. That despite everything, he’ll still love me.

Suddenly, a voice breaks through the stillness.

“Anything?”