Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 74

Tala

We have traveled so far. The need to put as much distance between us and the temple of the Moon Goddess presses down on my chest like a vice. Theo seems to know exactly where we are going, and I don’t ask questions. As long as he is by my side, I know I will be safe and loved.

He tugs on my hand, pulling me from my thoughts. “We are almost there.”

I almost ask him where “there” is, but it is standing before me, like a beacon of hope.

A sanctuary looms ahead, half–swallowed by ivy and hidden by trees. Moonlight spills through the broken roof, turning the dust into silver clouds that drift between the shattered columns. It feels like the world has forgotten this place. But I know I never will. Somehow, my heart knows this is where everything will change.

Theo’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me closer to him. Our bodies are inches apart, but the sparks that fly between us bind us together. “We’ll be safe here,” he says softly. “No one comes here anymore.”

Safe. The word means something different now. Safe with him doesn’t mean untouched; it means known, seen, chosen.

He guides me inside, and the air grows still. The remains of an altar sit in the center of the hall, its marble streaked with black veins of soot. Theo drops his pack and kneels, pulling a small silver dagger from its sheath. My breath catches. I know this blade. All of the Moon Goddess’s guards have one, but this one has been changed into something different. The moon is etched into its hilt, her mark twisted into something darker.

“You were a guard,” I whisper.

He nods. “I tried to leave. I didn’t want to fight for her any longer. I could feel you beyond the temple walls. I was drawn to you. The Moon Goddess felt the bond between me and one of her daughters, and instead of giving us both freedom, she stripped me of my wolf and cast me out.”

Tears drip from my eyes, knowing the truth, even though I have known it all along. My mother will never bless our union.

“Then,” he continues, “I bound myself to something darker. Something so I could ensure that you would always be safe. I don’t deserve you, not as I am.”

“Don’t say that,” I hiss. “We belong together.”

“Tala.” My name sounds like a prayer and an apology all at once. “I can’t mark you the way you can mark me, but I can bind myself to you.”

He turns the dagger on himself first, pressing the tip to his palm. The cut blooms red. He doesn’t flinch as the blood wells, sliding down his wrist in shining threads. Then he offers the hilt to me.

My fingers tremble as I take it. The metal hums against my skin, recognizing what I am. I draw the edge across my palm. The sting makes me gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the heat rising in my chest.

Theo catches my hand before I can hesitate and presses our palms together. His blood mixes with mine, hot and slick. A shudder moves through both of us, something ancient stirring in the air around us. The bond feels alive, like lightning waiting to strike.

His forehead falls against mine. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, voice rough. “And I’m yours.”

It is only us in this moment. Our shared breath and the pulse of our bond beating loudly in my ears. The world could burn, and I would never know, because I can only see Theo. The hard lines of his jaw, the delicate smirk on his lips, and the way his fingers slide to the back of my neck, holding me against him.

His mouth finds mine, soft at first, savoring the moment between us. Then it changes into something desperate and claiming. Every doubt I have crumbles under the press of his lips, and the weight of his touch.

He backs me toward the altar, lifting me onto the cold stone. His hand trails down my spine, undoing the buttons of my dress. His fingers graze my skin, and I arch against his touch. I want more of him. All of him.

I cling to him, pulling him closer, drowning in the storm building between us. When his mouth moves to my throat, I tilt my head, and a sound escapes me that doesn’t sound like my own.

My fingers twist in his tunic, and I pull it roughly over his head. My fingers trail along his chest, memorizing every muscle and scar, as if it will be the last time I ever touch him. His lips find my skin again, and my legs begin to quiver.

“Tala,” he murmurs against my skin. “Are you sure?”

I can only nod. “Please.”

He groans, resting his forehead against mine again. “Not here,” he says, voice breaking. “You deserve more than stone and ashes.”

My heart aches at the restraint in his eyes. I cup his face, forcing him to look at me. “Wherever you are is enough. You are enough.”

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