“Luna.”
“It’s Amrin,” she corrected automatically.
Maybe for everyone else.
But not for me.
Never for me.
For me, she was Luna.
My Luna.
I knew I was becoming dangerously attached to the idea that she was mine.
And worse?
I was seriously unwilling to let that go.
Chapter 8-Sten
I wasn’t used to admitting hard truths out loud, and this time was no different.
But as I stood inside my room with her, I began to realize that fate might have been leading the way all along.
See, the power Amrin held over me rivaled that of the celestial body governing my magic, my blood, my very destiny.
Fuck.
That realization should have terrified me more than it did.
A descendant of Máni was not supposed to tether himself emotionally to anyone before the formal bond.
Attachment complicated control.
Desire weakened judgment.
Need made celestial magic unstable.
And yet every instinct I possessed curved helplessly toward Amrin Cordoza—toward Luna.
My Luna.
I still did not know how I was going to tell her the truth about what I was becoming.
About the role waiting for me back in the realm of Asgard.
About the darkness threaded through lunar bloodlines.
But those problems lived somewhere distant in the future.
Right now?
Right now all I could think about was her.
The softness in her voice.
The fear in her eyes when she mentioned moths.
