The Vampire's Luna

Damien didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Not with the boiling suspicion rising in his throat. He looked at Gabriel with quiet rage simmering in his gaze. There had been too many coincidences lately. Too many threads that led back to this man who was smiling just a little too much for someone who had just lost his chance at the throne. Damien remembered Gabriel’s subtle insistence during the wedding party—that he greet every eligible woman, shake their hands, offer a smile.

Everything reeked of a setup.

Damien’s silence was restraint. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice betraying the quiet fury clawing at his chest. Had Gabriel known about the issue with the true mate all along? Had he orchestrated this? If so, who was feeding him information? The only ones who knew were himself, Luna and Morvakar.

Then Gabriel gave a knowing, almost wicked smile. A flash of teeth that reminded Damien of a wolf dressed in designer.

"King Damien," Gabriel said, "I hear you almost missed your own coronation paying a visit to Lady Sharona’s hotel room."

The jab was clean, polished, and public enough to sting. Luna’s hand went rigid on his arm.

"Is that all you do for a job, Lord Gabriel? Follow me around?"

There was venom in his tone, but Gabriel merely chuckled, pleased with himself. "No, Your Majesty," he said smoothly. "Lady Sharona just informed me." He winked, slow and smug, as though he held the winning hand and was enjoying the moment before the cards turned.

"Thank you, Lord Gabriel," Luna said before Damien could answer. Her voice was sweet as honey and just as sticky. "I’m sure others would like to offer their congratulations too."

A perfect queen, shielding her king without making it obvious.

Gabriel gave one final bow and turned away, his eyes glinting with amusement. As he walked into the crowd, it was clear he felt victorious. But Luna’s gaze followed him with steel in her spine.

"Who is Lady Sharona?" Luna asked, her voice steady but her eyes searching his face.

"A noble woman from Obsidian City," Damien said simply. His gaze didn’t meet hers.

Luna waited for the elaboration that never came. She looked at him for a moment longer, watching his jaw tense slightly, as though he knew what she was hoping for and was deliberately denying it.

"I think I will head back home now. I am exhausted."

"I’ll take you," Damien said quickly.

"No. I’ll be fine," she replied, rising gracefully to her feet. With a quiet nod that masked the ache in her chest, she turned and left.

******

Luna was still wide awake when Damien arrived. She sat curled on the chaise by the balcony doors, wrapped in a robe, the moonlight making her skin glow. But the glow didn’t reach her eyes. They were sharp and hollow all at once.

How could she sleep? It was akin to trying to rest in a house that had already begun to burn, pretending the smoke didn’t sting her lungs.

Damien entered the bedroom, his fingers working impatiently at the buttons of his shirt. His coat was already tossed across the settee. "You’re still awake," he said, surprise flickering in his voice. He looked at her, and for a moment, the shadows between them were louder than words.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Kyllian and your mother left for the werewolf kingdom already," he said, as if delivering news from another world. "I escorted them to the boundary."

She didn’t respond. Her silence filled the room.

He stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, unfastening his cuffs. "Is there a reason he says Talon should be a part of your protective detail?"

"Just looking out for me, I guess."

"Kyllian needs to be reminded every once in a while that you are my wife and I am exceptionally capable of protecting you."

"I guess he is wary of me being the only werewolf in Blood City. Being queen doesn’t change the fact that I am still an outsider."

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded over her growing belly protectively.

"What do you mean, Luna? The people have come to love you."

He meant it. The court adored her elegance, her fire, the way she didn’t shrink under pressure. Even the Trueblood Elders who once muttered about "tainted blood" now bowed more deeply when she passed. She had proven herself more queen than most of the noble daughters bred for politics.

Luna gave a small, bitter smile as she tilted her head. "I am not talking about the people. I am talking about you."

The words, soft as they were, made him still. He closed the distance between them, moving closer to her, but her body remained rigid.

"What?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself as if afraid of how much would spill out if she let go.

"Listen, Damien. I know you love me, I would never dispute that fact. But keeping things from me, is just you telling me there are stuff I don’t need to know."

She turned to look at him finally, and he saw the shine in her eyes.

Damien looked away, jaw tight. The fabric of his shirt hung open now, revealing a well honed chest.

"Luna... it’s..." He shut his eyes for a second. "You are pregnant and fragile. For now, the most important thing is to make sure you and our child are safe."

He reached for her hand, brushing his thumb against her fingers, silently willing her to believe him. But she pulled her hand away, gently but firmly.

"We are safe," she said, her voice firmer now. "But when you keep things from us, just how safe can we be?"

"Can you trust me just this once? And not push the issue."

It wasn’t fair. He knew it.

"Not when it bothers you so much I won’t," Luna shot back.

"It doesn’t bother me. It is suspicious, but it doesn’t bother me."