His Human Luna Managed to Get Away Chapter 10

His Human Luna Managed to Get Away Chapter 10 The Long Climb

Soren was out of his mind

For seven full days, he locked himself inside Nia’s memorial har! He neither dept nor ate

Nia’s body, covered in a white sheet, lay in an ice-lined casker He knelt before it, tracing her outline with his fingertips over and over, as if that could keep the last trace of warmth from faring

“Nia. His voice was hoarse. His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones sharp and prominent

Not trace remained of the former head of the Shaw family.

Outs de the door, guards and doctors took turns watching him, terrified he might follow her

And in truth, Soren had tried.

On the third night after Nia’s death, he pressed the very knife that had carved out their bond mark against his own throat.

The moment the blade pierced his skin, he felt a strange rush of relief.

“Nia… I’m coming to you…’”

Bam-!

The door burst open. Guards tackled him and wrestled the knife away. Blood splattered onto the casket.

The bright, shocking red was just as terrible as that night. Soren’s whole body curled up in fear.

Pinned to the floor, he stared at the casket just inches away.

Once again, the truth crashed over him: Nia was dead. He let out a wretched, piercing howl.

“Nia! I miss you…”

On the eighth day, Soren suddenly went quiet.

He remembered that there was a mysterious old witch living on Mount Northmaw.

Legend said this witch could speak with the dead and knew ancient secrets of crossing between life and

death.

“I’m going to find him.” He lurched to his feet. Darkness swam before his eyes, but he held tight to the edge of the casket. “I’m going to bring Nia back… even if it costs my own life.”

The mountain had a hundred thousand stone steps. To prove his devotion, Soren dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead against the frigid stone with every stumbling step. He kept going until his knees split open and his forehead swelled into raw, throbbing flesh.

He knelt in the snow outside the witch’s hut. “Please… save her…”

The old wooden door creaked open, and the witch’s hoary voice drifted out She has been here

Soren’s whole body wentagid,

“Three months ago, she came to me alone” The witch tossed a worn magh journal before hum She begged me for annual to conceive your child”

A child?

His brain scrambled for any memory of this. Soren hadn’t even known Nia had ever thought of such a hing

His heart heavy, he took the thick book.

Before he even opened it, the weight of it already made it hard to breathe.

He flipped it open. Every page was filled with detailed records of the agorry she’d endured during each orbidden ritual-

Day 7: The potion bath flooded her veins with untamed, primal werewolf magic. Violent magical backlash aused spasms and relentless vomiting of blood.”

Day 15: On the full moon night, she sacrificed heart blood to merge her soul essence with the werewolf pirit. Fainted from excruciating pain and remained unconscious for three days.”

Day 23: Injected forbidden magic potions to reshape her fetal bloodline. Her tortured screams scattered ll the mountain spirits in the night.”

By the time he finished, Soren’s hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the journal.

The words “screams” stabbed into him, making his temples throb.

de suddenly remembered one time he had found Nia curled up on the bathroom tiles, sweating cold, lutching her stomach.

She had looked up at him, her lips bloody from biting them, yet still forcing a smile. “I’s nothing just my >eriod.”

And he had believed her.

He had actually believed her!

Soren hunched over. His insides felt as if they had been ripped out and crushed.

Nia had suffered all of this for him-and what had he been doing?

Accompanying Rhea to prenatal checkups.

Forcing Nia to drink that “exorcism” potion.

Leaving her his back while she convulsed in pain.

All those times she had brushed off her injuries as old wounds flaring up all those late nights when she had curled up alone in the corner of the bed-

It had all been this inhuman torture

The most ridiculous part was that when he finally mustered the courage to tell him she was pregnant, he had sneered and asked. “Nia, since when did you learn to he?”

His past cruelty now cut through his heart like a blade

Why….

He collapsed to his knees, forehead pressed against the frozen ground. Tears mixed with blood dripped onto the stone slabs.

She had endured so much pain for him—and he had known nothing.

She was the one who had suffered, so why was he now the one drowning in agony?

“The last time she came, she was already pregnant,” the witch said, then pointed at Soren’s chest. “But there was no room for her in your heart anymore, was there?”

Soren felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. He finally admitted to himself that over that year, his heart had slowly shifted, choice by choice.

When Rhea-carrying their child-had morning sickness, he had forced Nia to taste every dish.

As she swallowed those spicy, bitter foods, had she been fighting her own pregnancy symptoms?

Right after she had just miscarried, how had she endured the man she loved carving out the very mark of their bond by his own hand?

And he… he had killed their child. He had cut the last thread of Nia’s love for him.

“Ptoo-!”

A mouthful of blood sprayed onto the snow. Soren curled up on the ground, his chest stabbed by a dull

knife.

“Before she left the last time, she asked me…” the witch said softly. “Whether there was any pain so great that it could make a person not want to live anymore.”

Soren froze. The blood in his veins turned to ice.

How much of a monster did he have to be to make Nia suffer so deeply, so hopelessly?

To make her no longer afraid of death?

He pressed his hand to his chest, trying to crush the overwhelming pain.

Now, at last, he understood what it felt like.

It was the regret that burned fish and bone. The shame that pierced the heart like arrows. The guilt that could never be cleansed, even if he died right now

“Leave the body here. The witch said, turning to go inside Come back in seven days

The wind and snow swallowed Soren’s pleas

But hope flickered in his eyes. He crawled toward the hut on his knees, bloodying his forehead on the stone steps. “Please… bring her back…”

The only answer was the howling mountain wind.