His Rogue Luna novel Chapter 80

I embraced him, inhaling his spicy scent and only realising at that moment just how much I had missed him.

Why did I wait so long to see him?

We both broke from the embrace and took a moment to analyse each other. He looked a little older, a few wrinkles around his eyes more defined than I last remembered but he had a light twinkle in his dark irises that wasn't there last time.

"You look well Uncle. I take it you and Cora are happy?" I teased.

"I should be saying that to you. Tell me, when are the pups coming?" I blinked at him owlishly, caught off guard by his question. I heard Kieran cough to hide his chuckle besides me. Before I could come up with a response, he brushed it off with a wave of his hands, suddenly gripping both my hands in his.

"That's not why I'm here though. Your mate spoke of these visions you've been getting," I nodded solemnly, the vision still fresh in my mind from a only a couple moments ago.

"Yes. Shall we take this to the office?" He nodded and the three of us walked towards the office, settling in the soundproof room for privacy. I settled on the sofa besides him while Kieran stood opposite us.

"I keep seeing the day the Silverclaws were massacred. My vision focuses mainly on my parents and a specific group of hunters," I began. His face hardened at my revelation, and he nodded thoughtfully.

"It seems the spirits of the fallen are restless. That's why you keep getting the vision. They want justice," His explanation didn't make anything better, if anything just raised more questions.

"I have to find these hunters and kill them," I stated, not even wording it like a question since I knew from the previous night what I had to do.

"Yes Mija," He confirmed.

Kieran had kindly pulled out my sketch and handed it to my uncle.

"This is the face of the leader. I didn't catch a name but I learned from my visions that he was looking for me too," I continued.

My uncle looked thoughtful, but I saw his eyes widen a fraction with understanding. He stared at the picture I drew for a while, rubbing his beard distractedly. He eyes were slightly glazed over, probably stuck in the memory of that tragic day.

"McConor," He murmured. I didn't interrupt his thoughts and let him continue speaking at his own pace. "That was the family name of the hunters. I know this because they'd leave their symbol wherever they went," he continued.

"It was a universal sign of death," he paused, placing the sketch down on the table before turning towards me.

"I never thought much of it, I thought it was a rumour," he shook his head to himself.

"What was a rumour?" I asked, once his pause was too long for my liking.

"The reason they were looking for you. Baby Cynthia," I sometimes forgot that my middle name was essentially my real first name, but I had taken the name Diana had given me once I found her and went with it.