The Vampire's Luna

Behind her, Kyllian shifted. Stiffened. His wolf side bristled at the gesture—Luciver’s hands on Ravena’s shoulders. His eyes narrowed.

Luciver, however, didn’t even flinch. Werewolves. Always so dramatic. Did they think he was going to suddenly throw the queen over his shoulder and disappear into the shadows? Honestly.

"We made preparations for your stay," Luciver continued smoothly, dragging Kyllian’s attention back to civility. "The guest castle is available for as long as you need it."

Ravena blinked, her brow rising. "The... guest castle? I was hoping to stay with my daughter."

Luciver faltered for just half a second—a rare misstep for the king of calculated grace. "Uh... okay. No problems," he replied, recovering swiftly.

But his eyes flicked toward Damien. Damien, just a step behind his future mother-in-law, didn’t speak. Instead, he made a subtle slicing gesture near his neck.

Everyone in the castle knew just how... vocal Luna had been lately. Walls had ears, and those ears were very traumatized.

Damien loved her. Gods, he adored her. But the thought of his mother-in-law staying under the same roof while he and Luna fucked like rabbits was unbearable.

Ravena noticed the discreet panic, of course. She was a queen. She noticed everything.

"Seems someone behind me has a problem with that," she said with a bemused smile, knowingly twisting the knife of maternal mischief.

Luciver barely concealed a chuckle. Damien gave Ravena a tight, pleading look that said, Please, I’m begging you, save me from the horror of being celibate until your departure.

"It... it’s fine. It’s just, uhm... yeah, it’s fine," Damien stuttered, and oh gods, he really needed to get a grip on himself.

"Perfect," Ravena replied smoothly, spinning on her heel. "Now, where is my daughter?"

"She doesn’t know you’re here. It’s a surprise."

Ravena turned back, her eyes gleaming with maternal mischief. "Oh, you. Hoping to get some reward for bringing me?"

Damien’s mouth dropped open. "No... I wouldn’t—"

He actually gasped.

Ravena rolled her eyes and smirked. "You vampires have no sense of humour." She patted him on the shoulder, the way one might pat a very nervous child about to go on stage. "Now let’s go see the bride, shall we?"

******

Meanwhile, inside the house, Luna was having a moment.

She stood in the living room, utterly still, except for the gleeful curl of her fingers as they traced the edge of the ring on her hand. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d said yes to marrying Damien.

She glanced at her hand again and gave a little squeal. She really was getting married.

Luna chuckled inwardly. She was glowing with happiness, she was in love.

And she wanted Damien to feel that love too. She wanted him to walk through the door and forget every burden he carried.

Which was why, as soon as she heard the soft purr of a car pulling into the driveway, she jumped up from the couch. A grin spread across her face as she dashed to the mirror to make sure the lingerie fit just right. She had picked it up from a rather scandalous boutique on her way to work the day before. At the time, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d have the courage to wear it.

But now?

She wasn’t just feeling courageous. She was feeling dangerous.

The lace barely hid anything, and the way the garter hugged her thighs? Damien would lose what was left of his composure.

She posed once in the mirror and gave herself a thumbs-up. "You got this," she whispered to her reflection.

Then she strutted into the living room.

Luna had her hands on her hips, striking what she believed was her best sexy pose. Head tilted slightly, hips cocked, eyes smoldering.

"Alpha Kyllian!" she gasped, her eyes going wide as a very different man than expected stepped through the archway.

Her whole body jolted. In a panic, she began flailing all directions, eyes darting around. She grabbed at a throw pillow, then flung it away, realizing it was far too small. Her hands flapped around the coffee table as if a robe might magically appear if she just willed it hard enough.

"Mom!" she squeaked, just as her mother’s unmistakable frame stepped into the room behind Kyllian, a hand daintily covering her mouth, her eyes already brimming with restrained laughter.

"Oh dear Moon Goddess," Luna muttered, now partially crouched behind an armchair, her lingerie on full, glorious display under the harsh betrayal of overhead lighting. This was not how this day was supposed to go. She wanted Damien to walk in, swoon, and be worshipped not caught half-naked by her mother and the other man she was engaged to.

Kyllian had frozen entirely. He was still staring, gawking, mouth ajar, stunned, and oh-so-lustful.

Damien came in through the doorway last.

Time slowed.

He saw Luna. Saw what she was wearing—or rather, not wearing. Saw Kyllian’s very male, very alive expression. And saw Queen Ravena standing in the middle of it all, amused.

Without a word, Damien blurred across the room with that eerie inhuman speed, a blur of princely protective dominance. In the blink of an eye, Luna was no longer in the living room. She was in his arms, pressed tight to his chest, being spirited away toward the safety of the bedroom.

Once the door slammed shut behind them, he gently set her down but his eyes were blazing.

"What were you doing?" he snapped.

"What? I thought it was you!" Luna gasped, trying to smooth her hair and regain whatever shreds of dignity remained.

"Damn woman, I can’t leave you alone for a second?" he grumbled, running both hands through his dark hair in frustration, his fangs slightly exposed from the adrenaline rush. "Are you trying to kill me before the wedding?"

"Oh my God," Luna covered her face, mortified. "My mother is going to think I am a sex maniac!"

Damien, despite himself, let out a strangled laugh. "Luna, I walked in and Kyllian was five seconds away from jumping your bones. If I had been a second later, I’d have needed to kill someone on your living room rug."