The Vampire's Luna

"I didn’t even know he got married," Luna said.

"Under pressure. The council was breathing down his neck. Poor boy was grieving, confused." Ravena sat at the edge of her chaise and patted the space beside her. "Sit, child. Even though as king, you have all the power, you still have no power."

Luna eased into the seat beside her. "So tell me," Ravena said, scrutinizing her again. "Why are you looking so pale? It’s like you have no blood left in you."

"I just need some sun," Luna said, trying to wave off her mother’s scrutinizing gaze. "The sun in Blood City is veiled with some kind of human technology. It’s like being trapped under grey glass. I’ll get out more while I’m here."

Ravena narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. "I’ll have the medic take a look at you. How long are you’re here for?"

Luna chuckled. "Just this weekend. Then I’m back with my vampire prince."

Ravena sighed dramatically. "So, three days before your bloodsucker shows up with an army. Charming."

Luna laughed harder. "Maybe two. He’s not that patient."

"Oh please," Ravena muttered "You are spending more time with your mother."

*****

Kyllian’s steps echoed furiously down the castle corridors. His jaw was locked, the muscle ticking in frustration, and anyone who saw him knew better than to get in his way. He had one destination and one mission—Jane.

He found her exactly where he expected: in the palace kitchens, surrounded by bustling omegas. She stood at the center, dishing out orders, sleeves rolled, hair tied back in a regal knot, trying too hard to look like she belonged.

"More thyme in the stew." she quipped, completely oblivious to the storm about to descend upon her.

The room fell silent as Kyllian entered. The omegas bowed instantly, some dropping ladles, others freezing mid-step. Kyllian didn’t even raise his voice.

"Leave us, please."

His command was soft. But in a room of wolves, even softness carried power. Within seconds, the kitchen emptied.

Jane wiped her hands on a cloth and turned slowly, already bracing. "You didn’t like how I greeted her."

"You will respect the princess," Kyllian said.

Jane met his gaze without flinching. "I am higher in position than she is. She should respect me."

Wrong answer.

Kyllian stepped forward, his massive frame towering over hers. His alpha energy pressed into the room. "You don’t even have the crown yet and you are already making a mess."

Jane’s chin tilted up stubbornly. "I’m doing what a queen should do."

"Then let me set you straight, Jane."

His next words were calm, brutal, and final. "You will not become queen."

Jane blinked as if she’d been slapped. The scent of disappointment and rage started to seep off her skin.

"That seat," Kyllian continued, "is going to remain empty. Until its rightful owner returns to sit on it."

"She’s gone, Kyllian. She’s mated. Princess or not, she belongs to them now."

"And yet you’re still in her shadow," Kyllian shot back. "She steps into this castle, and the entire kingdom remembers who its real queen is. You think a crown and a wedding ring can erase her legacy?"

Jane turned her face away, hiding tears that she’d never dare let fall. "Why are you being cruel."

"No," he said. "I’m honest."

"The kingdom needs a queen." Jane shot back, undermining his threat.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, trembling from sheer indignation.

Kyllian smiled. "You should pay attention in school, Jane. The king needs a wife, not necessarily a queen."

Jane’s lips parted slightly, stunned by the clarity of his cruelty.

"You cannot do that. You cannot treat me like this. I deserve to be queen. I have followed you around like a lost puppy since you became alpha." Jane raged.

She had waited patiently, tolerated being his second choice, thinking one day she might be enough.

But she wasn’t Luna. And Kyllian had just reminded her.

"You will give the princess her room, the one she had. Do not force me to use and discard you, Jane. Don’t test me." He said with finality and left the kitchen with a fuming wife behind him.

*****

Sage Veyron arrived in Damien’s office with a woman in tow. He bowed as he entered. "Your highness."

Damien looked up from the documents spread across his oak desk. When he saw Veyron, his brow lifted, but it was the woman behind him who truly caught his attention.

"Sage Veyron. Welcome. And who is this behind you?" Damien asked.

His gaze swept the woman in question—a tall, statuesque figure with high cheekbones, midnight-dark eyes.

"Thessaly Thorne, a doctor. She studied werewolves as an interest. Never knew she would need it." Veyron chuckled.

Thessaly stepped forward, her coat swaying.

"Studied" was putting it mildly. Thessaly Thorne had been obsessed with werewolves.

"Your highness." The lady bowed.

"Have you been briefed about the job?" Damien asked.

"Yes, Your Highness," Thessa replied crisply.

"Have you gone through the integration process?" Damien asked.

"Yes," Thessa said.

"Good," Damien murmured, nodding slowly. "Welcome on board. The princess went on a diplomatic visit to the werewolf kingdom. She should be back at the end of the week."

Thessa bowed once more and left the room, the heavy wooden door closing behind her with a muted thud.

As the silence returned, Veyron finally straightened.

"What is it, Veyron?" Damien sighed, already bracing for unsolicited advice.

"I just wanted to wish you congratulations on the pregnancy and to ask how you are. It has been long we spoke."

Damien leaned back in his chair. "I’m... fine. I haven’t had any pain in weeks."

"That’s odd. But I’m glad," Veyron said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Why is it odd?" Damien asked, frowning now.

"Well," Veyron said slowly, choosing his words. "Your health is meant to deteriorate. Which means something or someone is keeping you healthy."

Damien cracked a smile. "Well, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth," he said, waving a hand. "In the meantime, I miss my mate like crazy."

(I am truly blessed to have you guys.)