The Vampire's Luna

Damien’s control shredded. His body trembled as he gripped her, every muscle taut with the strain of holding on when all he wanted was to lose himself. His hand slid around her throat, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he used her neck as an anchor. The possessiveness in the gesture nearly undid him. "Fuck!"

Luna raised her feet higher in the air, toes curling as every nerve in her body sang. Her back arched off the sheets, a desperate bow that pulled a scream from her throat.

Damien drank in the sight, chest heaving. His wife was a noisy woman—he had always known it—but it was a truth he cherished. Her release was freedom. It was the way she gave herself fully, unafraid to be heard, unafraid to let the world know she was his. Every time she reached that peak, it took him with her, dragging him into that abyss of shared madness. He followed almost immediately, his control splintering. With a growl caught between frustration and need, he pulled out at the last second, spilling himself hot and heavy against the mattress.

"That’s new," Luna said breathlessly, turning her head lazily on the pillow, amusement sparkling in her eyes. There was a teasing tilt to her voice, as if she were already cataloging his decision for later mockery.

Damien arched a brow. "You think we can handle another true blood pregnancy?" He had only just begun to breathe again after watching her nearly break. The thought of doing it all over again terrified him.

(I love golden tickets)

"Right. Forgot about that." She chuckled. Her fingers trailed lazily across his chest. "So, only one child, uhn?" she teased.

"I guess so," Damien murmured. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. "You and our son? You’re already more than I deserve."

Luna’s heart squeezed at his vulnerability. She lifted her face to his and kissed him. "Wanna go again?" she whispered against his mouth.

Damien’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against her skin. "Do you even have to ask?" he replied, his hand already sliding down her side, proving that for all his worries, his hunger for her was endless.

*****

By late morning, Luna was already stirring. Her body ached pleasantly from the night’s indulgence, but her mind sharpened as the day’s weight pressed down on her shoulders. She dressed carefully.

Damien had left hours earlier, despite the fact that neither of them had truly slept. She had felt him slip from their bed with a kiss to her temple. Duty called him like a relentless master, dragging him away from her arms again and again. The kingdom didn’t pause for love, nor for sleepless nights shared between king and queen.

She sighed, fastening the clasp of her necklace as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She also had things to do. She had to secure a nanny for the heir, someone trustworthy enough to be his shadow and shield. She also had to prepare for the naming ceremony—a task that was both joyful and politically charged, for every detail would be dissected by the nobility. And then there was Morvakar. She needed to know if he wanted to stay within Blood Castles, or if he would prefer to live outside in the city proper. Her heart whispered she wanted him close; her mind reminded her it was his choice.

When she finished dressing, she called for Leora. The maid appeared quickly. Luna requested she accompany her, so she could later assist Thessa with the baby.

Stepping outside the castle, Luna inhaled sharply, filling her lungs with the cool morning air. Luna let herself smile. A new dawn in Blood City—and she was happy it had come in the reign of her husband.

Her steps carried her along the stone-paved street toward Lucivar’s castle when someone—halted her in her tracks. From across the square, she saw a figure exiting the castle Seliora once occupied. The sight made Luna’s stomach tighten. Isolde.

The woman’s presence was like a thorn lodged in Luna’s throat. She moved gracefully down the steps. And trailing her, as though nothing had changed in her world, was Natasha—Seliora’s old maid. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Her lips parted slightly in disbelief. What in the goddess’s name was Isolde doing walking out of Seliora’s old residence?

Isolde’s eyes met hers, and in an instant, the woman dipped into a curtsy.

Isolde rose from her curtsy and glided away, Natasha trailing dutifully behind. Neither woman looked back, but Luna’s fury followed them.

She turned slightly toward Leora.

"Why is she there?"

"Your Highness," Leora replied, shifting her weight uneasily, "Lord Lucivar instructed that she be moved into the concubines’ castle."

Luna’s eyes narrowed. "But only royal concubines and their staff stay there." That place was a symbol, an acknowledgment of favor, of status. To put Isolde there was to write a dangerous rumor in stone.

Leora shrugged. "Maybe she is Lord Lucivar’s new concubine. Goddess knows, he does have a string of them." The girl attempted a nervous smile, but it wilted quickly under Luna’s sharp stare.

Luna knew better. Her chest burned with cold fury. She could already hear the whispers of courtiers and merchants: The King’s mistress has been housed in the concubine’s castle. No. No, she would be damned before Isolde was labeled Damien’s concubine. That shit wasn’t happening.

First, she had to see her son. The thought steadied her heart. Afterward, she would peel apart the web that had landed Isolde in Seliora’s old quarters.

*****

Lucivar stood beside Lord Richard, both men gathered near the crib where the tiny heir gurgled softly. Richard leaned down, his face softened with delight as he cooed at the babe. "Isn’t this such a blessing? A true heir once again. Remember when Damien was born?"

Lucivar chuckled. "Wow. It’s been how long—three centuries now?" His gaze lingered on the infant, "I always thought I was going to have more children."

"Yeah, actually we thought that too."

"It’s time for me to rest, Richard. I need to go to Silver City for a while. Being king..." he sighed, "...is exhausting."