The Vampire's Luna

The enchantment settled with a faint hum, locking them in a magical cocoon of safety and silence, masking their scent and shielding them from scrying eyes and ears.

"There," he said with a satisfied grunt. "Shielded. Hidden. Even the Moon herself would squint to find you now."

Luna barely acknowledged him. She was too busy lowering Damien’s limp form more gently onto the worn couch, brushing sweat-matted curls off his pale forehead. He wasn’t moving and her heart was galloping so fast it made her vision blur.

Morvakar dusted off his hands. "What happened?" he asked, now more serious.

"My people were attacked by vampires," Luna said quickly. "My father is dead. Alpha Kyllian is king now and he blames Damien." She inhaled, sharply. "He wounded him. Badly. Damien lost consciousness on our way here. Please, Morvakar. Help him."

The sorcerer stared down at the vampire prince for a long moment. "The things we do for love," he murmured.

He dropped to one knee beside Damien and gently turned him over. Luna gasped when she saw the wound. A long, jagged tear sliced down Damien’s back, raw and deep, edges swollen and blackened. Luna could tell by the way Morvakar’s brow furrowed that it was worse than she feared.

"The poison in his system is not letting him heal," Morvakar muttered. "It’s slowing everything down."

"Can you fix him?" she asked, kneeling beside him, her hands hovering.

Morvakar sighed and stood up. "I can try. But I’m not a doctor. I’m just a lunatic with a lot of magic and a questionable moral compass."

He turned and exited the room. "Let’s see if I have blood painkillers."

Luna slid to the ground and cradled Damien’s head in her lap, stroking his hair with shaky fingers. His skin was so cold. She bent low, pressing her lips gently to his temple. "You’re going to be fine. You have to be. You don’t get to leave me now. We still have to get married."

A moment later, Morvakar returned with a battered wooden box in his arms, stuffed with things that should never share the same compartment: thread, needles, a flask of glowing green liquid.

He plopped the box down and glanced at Luna. "You need to calm down, princess. Your heartbeat is loud enough to wake the dead."

Luna sighed and sat back slowly. The edges of her vision were starting to blur, and her limbs trembled with sheer exhaustion. Her eyes never left Damien. He lay there so still, his back a gruesome patchwork of ruin.

Morvakar was hunched over Damien, hands steady as he began to sew. His movements were careful. "You had a steady rhythm," he said casually, not looking up. "It was soothing. A nice, slow thrum. Like meditation with a pulse." He dipped the needle in a dark salve that smelled vaguely like blood. "Now? It’s just all over the place. Like a drummer with a broken wrist. You need rest."

"I’m fine," Luna said automatically.

Morvakar sighed. "There’s no use arguing with a werewolf." He glanced at her for a heartbeat, then flicked his wrist in her direction. A tiny burst of spelllight shimmered in the air and hit her square in the forehead.

Luna promptly went limp.

Her head lolled gently to the side, her cheek resting on the arm of the sofa, one hand still extended slightly toward Damien.

Morvakar raised an eyebrow as he resumed tending to Damien. "You’re welcome," he muttered dryly to the unconscious princess. "Don’t say I never gave you anything."

But then something odd struck him. Her heartbeat—it was still racing. Not stressed, no. The pitch had changed. It wasn’t erratic anymore. Just... fast. But not just fast.

It was double.

His brows furrowed. He leaned in slightly, listening, trying to convince himself he was imagining things.

No. There it was again. Two rhythms. One strong and fast.

And the other impossibly faint... and new.

"Oh, my goddess," Morvakar whispered. He slowly turned his head toward Luna, who now slept peacefully, blissfully unaware.

"Damien, you dog," he muttered to the unconscious vampire.

*****

Williams scrubbed his hands at a marble sink with deliberate care. Blood flecks stained the porcelain basin. The water ran red for a moment before turning clear again. He rolled his neck, releasing a satisfying crack, then reached for a silk towel.

Behind him, footsteps echoed through the grand hall.

"Lord Gabriel!" Williams called out as the vampire lord entered. He turned around with a grin that was far too wide, teeth gleaming.

Gabriel cocked a brow. "Wow," he said as he approached. "I haven’t heard you be this excited since I brought you back from the dead."

Williams laughed, and the sound was grating. "Ah, well. Resurrection was delightful. But this? This... is divine. Chaos has such an exquisite flavor."

Gabriel poured himself a drink from the decanter by the window and leaned on the edge of the desk. "How did your plan go?"

"Not good. Lady Seliora wasn’t at the engagement party," Gabriel said, swirling a glass of wine between his fingers.

Williams let out a low chuckle, sitting back in a high-backed chair. "Hmm. Well, would you blame her? Attending an engagement party meant for your man and his mate? I wouldn’t attend either. It’s not exactly a spa day."

Gabriel scowled at the glass. "I’ll get another chance...So, how did it go?"

"It was exhilarating," Williams said with a grin. He stretched, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction. "My men did good. We lit a fire under that kingdom, made them bleed. But we did lose a lot. That prince arrived like some god of wrath, ripping through my army."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Expected."

"Still, there was a moment..." Williams leaned forward. "The princess... there’s something about her. She’s familiar. Like I know her, like I’ve seen her before. And there was this weird instinct to protect her. Isn’t that insane?" He laughed bitterly. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"She is a firecracker. Doesn’t strike me as someone who needs protection."

"Oh, she was impressive," Williams admitted. "Fought like a wolf possessed. Fierce, loyal, bleeding for her people....You have your distraction now. So...what’s next? I’m not done with the werewolves, though," Williams said, the hunger in his voice unmistakable. "There’s more blood to spill."

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