His Human Luna Managed to Get Away Chapter 12

His Human Luna Managed to Get Away Chapter 12 Into The Sky

Age: 12″

Admission Date: January 15, 2009″

Diagnosis: Severe hypothermia, pulmonary edema”

Note: Act of bravery. Rescued a boy who had fallen into an icy lake, then sank from exhaustion.

Resuscitated after 72 hours.”

Soren stopped breathing.

Trembling, he touched the wolffang pendant around his neck-the “token” Rhea had given him after he woke up.

For twelve years, he had never doubted the lie. Even when Nia had hesitated and seemed about to speak. he had never once thought to question the truth.

The memory of the icy lake came rushing back-

In the freezing water, he had seen someone break through the ice and swim toward him.

In his last moment before blacking out, the hand he grabbed-the wrist of the person who saved him— had a distinct crescent-shaped scar.

He had kissed and caressed Nia’s hands counless times. But not once had he realized that was the mark of

his savior.

“Ah!”

A broken sob escaped his throat. Soren hunched over, pressing the medical record hard against his chest.

The pain in his chest was like a hole ripped open, cold wind howling through it.

He slammed his forehead against the closet door, but he couldn’t feel the pain.

Because compared to the soul-tearing regret of this moment, physical pain was nothing.

What right did he have to win her back?

He had made her watch him with another woman. Drawn her blood. Carved out her flesh And finally driven her to…

‘Master!” His assistant burst in. “The witch sent word. He says you must come up the mountain right now!”

Soren turned his head rigidly, his eyes frighteningly hollow. “What’s the point?”

He had killed their child. He had driven Nia to her death.

She would never want to see him again in this lifetime.

The witch says…” The assistant swallowed. “There may still be a chance to save her.”

Soren shot to his feet-then stumbled and fell to his knees the next second.

He hadn’t had a single bite in days.

‘Get the car!” He gritted his teeth and hauled himself up. “I’m going. Now!”

Soren knelt before the witch, his eyes sunken, his lips ghostly pale.

But those bloodshot eyes burned with a frightening light-like a dying man clutching his last hope

“She’s not dead,” the witch’said, turning the pages of an ancient book with his gnarled fingers. “Your mating bond is broken, so you can no longer smell her

Soren’s whole body jolted. His heart nearly shattered through his ribs.

“Is there a way to find her?” His voice trembled uncontrollably. “I’ll pay any price.”

The witch’s cloudy eyes locked onto him, and she suddenly grinned. “You must reactivate the ancient werewolf tracking bond and plant a tracking demon seed into your chest.”

Her gnarled hand lifted the dark red cloth on the stone altar, revealing a blood-red worm-like demon seed bred exclusively for werewolf forbidden rituals.

“This seed will burrow along the broken traces of your blood bond, gnawing through your flesh until it reaches your core heart.” The witch’s nail brushed the scabbed wound beneath his collarbone. “You will endure every ounce of agony she once suffered.”

Soren ripped open his collar. “Do it now.”

Even though he had braced himself, the pain came far worse than he had imagined.

“Agh-!”

It was the agony of flesh being pried open-as if someone were stirring a red-hot iron hook inside his

chest.

He arched his back, scraping ten bloody lines into the ground with his fingernails.

In a daze, Nia’s helpless, despairing face flashed before him-the way she had looked when they strapped her to the blood-drawing table.

“This is only the beginning.” The witch pressed the blood-red seed deep into his bleeding wound.

Agony lanced through him like a thousand arrows piercing his heart all at once.

The demon seed burned like molten fire, burrowing through his veins toward his heart. Soren convulsed violently, vomiting a mouthful of hot blood.

The witch summoned seven dark magic runes and branded them precisely onto the magical core of his chest to anchor the seed and fuel its tracking power.

“Ngh.”

Soren’s eyes bulged. Every nerve felt as if it had been pulled out and roasted over a fire. His internal organs churned like they were being ground through a meat grinder.

The seed will need three days to trace her aura.” The witch drew a tracking spell on his chest using his own blood “For three days, you will suffer unrelenting fever and the torment of a thousand demons gnawing at your heart

Soren could no longer speak. Cold sweat and blood soaked through his clothes.

The demon seed gnawed relentlessly at his heart. Every piercing throb reminded him of Nia’s pale, lifeless

face.

So this was what she had felt.

She had felt it for him. So many times.

By dusk on the third day, Soren was barely human.

He lay curled in the corner of the stone room, his body covered in bloody scratches he had made himself

The seed churned wildly inside his heart, bringing waves of near-death cramping pain that left him gasping and suffocating.

‘I’ve found her.” The witch crushed a blood tracking butterfly in her palm. “Finthyr. A small town by the

sea.”

Soren’s glassy eyes snapped into focus.

Trembling, he reached for his blade, ready to carve the seed out of his heart and rush to her side at once- only to be stopped by the witch’s firm grip.

‘The seed has fused with your heart and your life force. Forcing it out will kill you.”

‘Then I’ll die.” He laughed, coughing up bloody foam. “My life… is hers anyway…”

The pain cut to the bone, but a smile crept onto Soren’s face.

He knew it. Nia was just angry with him. She was faking her death to get back at him.

She must still love him!

That very night, Soren dragged his broken body onto a plane bound for Finthyr.

The helicopter had barely risen a hundred meters when the pressure inside the cabin plummeted.

Soren clenched the armrest so hard his knuckles went white.

His Lycan bloodline had a fear of heights and a fear of the sea. In severe cases, it could cause suffocation and death. But he didn’t care anymore.

He was going to find Nia. Even if it killed him.

In an instant, every one of Soren’s senses was magnified a hundredfold. His temples throbbed violently, as if countless steel needles were boring through his veins straight into his brain.

Every breath felt like swallowing a red-hot blade, slicing all the way from his throat to his lungs.

“Mr. Shaw! Your nose is bleeding!” The pilot looked back in aların

Soren wiped his face. His hand came away bright red.

A thick, coppery taste flooded his throat, but he just shook his head. “Faster!”

The cabin jolted wildly. His vision blurred for a moment. Behind his eyes, he saw Nia making him hangover medicine.

She had stayed up until dawn, nodding off from exhaustion, yet she still forced herself to bring the bowl to his lips. “Drink it while it’s hot…”

Remembering these small, everyday sweetnesses, the corners of Soren’s mouth lifted despite

the pain

But along with those memories came the agony of thirty thousand feet. The pain spiked.

It felt as if someone was peeling his skin off and soaking his nerves in acid.

The back of Soren’s shirt was soaked through with cold sweat. His muscles spasmed beyond his control.

His heart was wrenched and twisted by iron pincers. He had to double over, gasping for air.

‘Faster…”

The words escaped through gritted teeth, as if every second earlier he saw her would mean one second ess of suffering.