Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 84

Chapter 84

Charlotte

Ronan wraps his hand around mine and squeezes it gently. I am prepared to walk out of the temple at his side, but his arms close around me. Suddenly, everything feels too heavy and I struggle to stay on my feet. I don’t even remember swaying, but suddenly I’m weightless, pressed against the hard line of his chest. My head lolls against his shoulder. I can feel every tremor in his body, rage, relief, terror. His heartbeat thunders through me, steady and strong, anchoring me to something human.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, though his voice cracks halfway through. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

Safe. The word feels foreign, too bright in the ruin of everything we’ve survived.

The wind shifts. I catch the faint metallic scent of wolfsbane and blood, but underneath it… life. New life. The sickness that had spread like rot through the packs… It’s gone. I can feel it, humming through the earth. The Moon Goddess’s curse has been broken.

Ronan starts walking. I don’t know how he’s even moving; his legs drag, his breath rasps, but he doesn’t stop. Jake and Damon follow close behind, their clothes torn, faces ghost–pale in the dying light.

“Are you going to be okay?” Damon’s voice wavers as he nods to me.

Ronan holds me tight, not giving me a chance to answer him. “She’s alive,” Ronan growls. “That’s all that matters.”

Alive. Barely. My eyelids flutter, but they feel too heavy. Every muscle in my body aches as if I’ve been pulled through the fire itself, which, I suppose, I have.

The temple fades behind us, swallowed by darkness. The path back to the pack house cuts through the forest, and even the trees seem to bow as we pass. The air hums with a strange reverence, like the world itself knows something has shifted.

By the time we reach the Blackthorn pack house front door, the night has deepened into something sacred. The pack is waiting. Dozens of werewolves watch us pass, faces upturned, eyes wide. No one speaks. The moment Ronan steps into the courtyard, a low murmur ripples through them like wind through grass.

Then, one by one, they kneel.

It starts with a young omega near the gate, her hands pressed together in trembling prayer. Then another. And another. Until the entire pack: High–born, healer, hunter, guard, all of them drop to their knees as Ronan carries me past.

The sound of it, the soft rustle of bodies bowing, the weight of the moment would have broken me if I had the strength left to cry. But I’m past tears. Past thought. I barely register the glow that flickers beneath my skin, a faint shimmer, silver and alive, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

They’re not kneeling for Ronan. They’re kneeling for me. But I don’t see it. I can’t. My eyes stay half–shut, and all I know is the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.

“Move,” he snarls when someone blocks the doorway. “Out of the way.”

He knocks the door open with his shoulder and carries me straight upstairs, ignoring the gasps that follow. The Blackthorn house feels different tonight, as if everyone is waiting for the other shoe to fall. Every step he takes echoes like thunder through the hallways.

“Bed,” Damon says behind him. “She needs to rest.”

“I know what she needs,” Ronan snaps. But his hands tremble when he lays me down on the bed. His fingers brush my cheek, leaving streaks of soot. “Stay with me, Charlotte.”

My throat burns when I try to answer. “Ronan…”

“Shh.” His hand cups the back of my neck, grounding me. “Don’t talk. You did enough.”

I want to tell him about the light. About how the Goddess spoke to me, and the weight of her mercy. About how I felt Tala’s soul finally rise, free of the curse that chained us both. But the words don’t come. Instead, I stare at the ceiling, where faint moonlight filters through the window.

The air around me hums. It’s not just light. Not anymore. It’s life.

Jake appears at the door, blood on his sleeve. “The warriors outside say the sickness is gone,” he says softly. “All of it. Even the pups that were near death, they’re breathing again.”

Ronan looks at him but doesn’t move his hand from my face. “What about the others? The Rogues? Damon?”

Damon steps forward, expression unreadable. “They ran when Samson fell, but I will make sure they find the ends they deserve.”

“No,” I rasp. “They were sick and scared. Let them go.”

“Lotte,” Jake mutters. “They took over a pack… your pack.”

“No,” I whisper again. “Let them go.”

Ronan exhales. “We can decide this later.”

But there’s no triumph in Ronan’s voice, only exhaustion. He sinks onto the edge of the bed and bows his head, his hair falling across his brow. The smell of smoke clings to him. I reach for him without thinking, brushing my fingers over his wrist. His pulse stutters under my touch.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “I saw the temple come down, and I thought…”

“You didn’t.” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s enough.

His eyes lift to mine, haunted. “The whole pack bowed when you walked past. You didn’t even see them, did you?”

I shake my head weakly. “I couldn’t.”

He studies me for a long moment, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he looks away. Then he stands and pulls the blanket up over me, careful not to touch the raw burns streaked across my shoulders.

“Sleep,” he says, more command than request. “You’ll need your strength.”

“Ronan.”

“Sleep,” he repeats, softer this time.

The room dims. Damon murmurs something about fetching water; Jake tends the fire. I let my eyes close, but the world doesn’t fade the way it should. The power still hums beneath my skin, alive and insistent. Every heartbeat in the house, every flicker of warmth. I feel it like a thousand invisible threads connecting me to everything that breathes.

It’s too much.

I sit up suddenly, gasping. “I can’t, Ronan, I can’t shut it out. I can feel everything.”

He’s there instantly, catching me before I fall. “Hey, hey… look at me.” His hands frame my face. “What’s wrong?”

“I can feel them,” I choke out. “All of them. The whole pack. I can hear their hearts, their breath, it’s inside me, consuming me.”

His eyes widen, flicking to Jake. “She’s overwhelmed.”

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