Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 66

It has been a week since I saw Theo last in the garden. Conan has been suspicious of me, refusing to leave my side. But even though I have not stepped into the moonlight to see him again, I know he is there waiting for me. His presence looms over the temple like a dark cloud. A mixture of desperation and anger at my refusal to come back to him. I can’t. He is not my path.

“Earth to Tala,” my sister, Ash, hisses. “You have been staring out of the window for forty–five minutes. Are you even ready to go?”

I turn my gaze away from the garden hedges. “I was lost in thought.”

Her eyes narrow in my direction. Conan isn’t the only one who is suspicious. “You’ve been acting weird.”

I swallow the knot in my throat, nearly choking on it. “I have?”

She steps closer, placing an awkward hand on my shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything.”

I know I can. Unlike the rest of my sisters, Ash is brazen. She likes to break the rules and push the limits. Our mother has threatened to strip her of her wolf many times, but can never bring herself to do it. No matter how tough the Moon Goddess pretends to be, she has a soft spot for her Daughters and her creations, which makes me wonder what crime Theo committed for my mother to take his.

“Do you ever wonder if there is a mate out there for us?” I keep my voice low.

Ash cocks her head to the side, studying me with an unwavering gaze. “No. We are meant to serve our mother, not a pack.”

I draw in a ragged breath. “You are right. I am just being silly.”

She takes another long look at me before speaking again. “We have to go.”

***

The air in the village is thick with woodsmoke and the clamor of merchants. Children’s laughter tangles with the clatter of wagon wheels, and the scent of fresh bread drifts temptingly on the breeze. I hand a loaf to a small girl with wide brown eyes, smiling as she bows and scurries off, clutching it to her chest.

“Bless you, Princess,” an older woman murmurs, taking the bundle of herbs I press into her palms.

I nod, forcing a smile, but my chest is already tightening. It’s the same as the nights in the garden, the prickle at the back of my neck, the sense of eyes that track my every step. I don’t need to turn. I know.

Theo.

My hands tremble as I offer another parcel of food. I cannot breathe, not properly, not with his presence pressing against my skin like heat. The bond tugs mercilessly, a string pulling me taut, drawing me toward him no matter how fiercely I resist.

“Daughter Tala,” Conan says behind me, my sworn knight, his tone edged with warning. “You look pale. Perhaps it is time to return to the temple.”

“No,” I answer too quickly. He narrows his eyes, but I turn before he can see the truth written across my face. “I need a moment.”

I cannot stay here. I cannot breathe.

As my sisters move down the street, distributing bread and blankets, I slip between two stone cottages. The alley smells of damp earth and hay. My heart races as I press deeper into the shadows, following that tether inside me, the invisible cord that has been strangling me since the garden.

He is there, waiting. Leaning against the wall as if he knew I would come. The perfect combination of danger and lust.

Theo’s lips curve faintly, but his eyes burn with need. “Took you long enough.”

My breath hitches. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet…” His gaze devours me, from the crown of my veil to the trembling hands I press to my skirts. “Here I am. And here you are. Running to me.”

“I didn’t…” The lie withers on my tongue. My throat aches. “I can’t… breathe when you’re near.”

He steps forward. The air thickens, charged with the bond between us. “That’s not suffocation, Tala. That’s what it feels like to need someone.”

His nearness is fire, searing through the chill in my bones. I know I should flee, call for Conan, remember who I am, a Daughter of the Moon, untouched, unbound, forbidden.

But I don’t.

Instead, I lift my chin, meeting him head–on. “If this is what it feels like… then show me.”

Theo doesn’t hesitate. He lifts the veil from my face, keeping his eyes locked on mine. Then, his hand finds. my jaw, rough and reverent, tilting my face up. His mouth crushes against mine, and the world ceases to exist. It’s heat and hunger and desperate inevitability, as if the kiss was etched into our fates long before either of us breathed.

The kiss steals my breath, but I don’t care. I don’t need air to live when I have him. He is the other piece to my puzzle. His jagged edges fit against my soft ones, creating something so beautiful that it blinds me. His hands caress me, rough but gentle, and I am lost.

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