Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Charlotte

The night after the Council feels too quiet. No warriors clashing, no screaming, no echo of divine judgment. Just the soft whisper of the wind as it slides through the windows of the pack house.

I can still smell the smoke from the temple when I close my eyes. Still see the way the flames swallowed everything I thought I was. I fear that the feeling will never leave me, and I will be forced to carry it for a lifetime.

You are strong, Cricket yawns in the back of my head. ‘If you weren’t, the Moon Goddess wouldn’t have placed me with you.‘

While I appreciate her confidence in me, I wish I could feel the same. Without Tala, I feel powerless. It feels like everything I did was really her, and I am just wearing a false crown that was thrust upon me.

Now I sit on the edge of a bed I don’t recognize, bare feet pressed into cold floor, waiting for a sleep that refuses to come.

The door creaks behind me. Ronan’s scent swirls into the room, and I sigh loudly. He doesn’t bother knocking anymore.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” I ask without turning.

“Shouldn’t you?”

I almost smile at the irony. He sounds tired, the kind of exhaustion that goes beyond the body, yet he is worried about me.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says in a low voice. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you in the flames again.”

I draw a slow breath, forcing the tremor out of it. “That makes two of us, but I am here now.”

“I know.” His reply is a whisper. “And that terrifies me.”

That pulls me around. He’s standing in the shadows, half his face hidden in the dim light from the hearth. His eyes catch the glow of the moon shining through the window, and he looks absolutely wrecked.

“What terrifies you, Ronan?” I ask softly. “That I lived?”

He exhales, sharp and uneven. “That you’ll leave again.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. He takes a step forward, then another, until he’s standing in front of me. His hand lifts, hesitates, then falls uselessly to his side.

“I lost you once,” he says. “When I rejected you, I thought I was saving the pack. I thought…” His voice cracks. “I thought I was doing the right thing. But when that fire consumed you, when I saw you burn, Charlotte, it broke me. I didn’t just lose my mate. I lost my reason for breathing.”

My throat tightens. “And now?”

“Now I have you back, and I still can’t breathe.”

The rawness in his tone tugs at my heart, pulling me to his feet. “You think I’ll vanish?”

He shakes his head. “No. I think you’ll save everyone but yourself. Again.”

I wince at his words. They sting because they are true.

He moves closer, close enough that I can feel his body heat. “You stood in front of gods, faced the curse, burned for us, and you still look at me like I’m the one who needs protecting.”

“Maybe you do.”

His eyes flash. “And maybe you need to stop pretending you don’t.”

Silence stretches, thick and dangerous.

Then I stand. The air crackles between us as I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze head–on. “Say it, Ronan. Say what you’re really afraid of.”

He clenches his fists. “I’m afraid that if I touch you, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve had you once, and it wasn’t nearly enough.”

The confession shatters the last wall between us. I reach for his hand and press it flat against my chest, over my racing heart. “Then don’t stop.”

He freezes. “Charlotte…”

I take his other hand and lift it to my throat, feeling the tremor in his fingers. “You’ve spent so long holding back. I need to know you still feel it, the bond.”

His breath catches. His thumb brushes the curve of my jaw like he’s afraid I’ll burn under his touch.

“I never stopped feeling it,” he says hoarsely. “Not once. Every time I tried to hate you, I ended up praying for you instead.”

I step closer until our bodies are almost touching. “Then show me.”

For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. The tension hums like a live wire, then he breaks.

His mouth crashes against mine, all fire and hunger and grief. The kiss isn’t gentle; it’s desperate, a collision of everything we never said. His hands frame my face, holding me like I might vanish between breaths.

I taste the conflict in him. A storm of his fear, fury, and love.

When I pull back, my lips are trembling. “You’re shaking.”

“So are you.”

He presses his forehead to mine, voice breaking. “You don’t understand, Charlotte. I love you so much it hurts. And that terrifies me more than death ever could,”

My fingers trace the scar along his jaw. “Then let it hurt. It would be better than feeling nothing at all.”

He exhales like I’ve given him permission to live. His mouth finds mine again, slower this time.

The kiss deepens, turning into something more. My back hits the wall, his hands braced on either side of me, caging me in, not to trap, but to claim.

When his lips trail down my neck, I whisper, “Ronan…”

He stops instantly, resting his head against my shoulder, breath ragged. “If I go further, I won’t stop.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

His growl vibrates against my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

I smile faintly, even as tears sting my eyes. “I think I do.”

The shift happens in silence. My fingers slide beneath his shirt, tracing the hard lines of his chest, the scars that were placed there because of me. His hands tremble when they find my waist, his control hanging by a thread.

This isn’t about lust, it’s about remembering we’re alive. About claiming the life we fought for.

He kisses me again, softer this time. Slower. The kind of kiss that says thank you for coming back to me.

When he finally pulls away, his voice is a whisper against my lips. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No,” I say, brushing his cheek. “But neither of us deserved the pain we got. So maybe this isn’t about deserving. Maybe it’s about healing.”

He nods, eyes glassy. “And if I can’t heal?”

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