The Vampire's Luna

Williams smiled. His eyes gleamed with cruel delight as he reached for the weapon leaning against the wall: a bat forged with sun shards. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

He looked up at her, meeting her terrified eyes, and then he swung.

The first blow cracked against her shoulder, a sickening crunch reverberating through the room. Isolde held her scream.

Williams didn’t stop. He hit her again, harder, the bat slamming into her arms, her face. He struck with the efficiency of a butcher and the artistry of a sadist, each blow measured, meant to disfigure but not kill. Her robe tore, skin splitting.

He hit her until her pale flesh began to blister and peel, the sun shard’s searing touch burning her skin. He hit her until bone groaned, until her beauty was gone, replaced with grotesque swelling, purple bruises, and torn flesh.

Isolde’s cries weakened into whimpers, then into silence. She collapsed onto the floor, barely moving, breath shallow.

Williams finally stopped, chest rising and falling with the satisfaction of exertion. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork with a cruel, twisted pride. His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned on the bat.

"You’ll be their perfect victim now," he murmured, crouching beside her broken body. His fingers brushed her cheek. "They’ll see you and hate her. The jealous queen who tried to kill you. They’ll turn against Luna, and Damien will have no choice but to look at you. To see you. And Talon will be the match that sparks the fire."

He stood, adjusting his coat. Then, casually, he added, "Try not to die before the council sees you. That would ruin all the fun."

And with that, he walked out, leaving Isolde’s body broken on the floor.

*****

Luna walked down the familiar path. She was headed to her former house. She wanted to inform Talon there was no use shadowing Isolde anymore. He would be stationed at her house all day and into the dead of the night before he came back home for a nap.

She hadn’t even crossed the gates when the sound of metal clanging snapped her out of her thoughts. Luna’s eyes widened in horror. The council enforcers were dragging Talon out of the house. Silver cuffs burned into his wrists, the cruel metal biting into his flesh.

"What in the heavens do you think you are doing?!" Luna’s voice thundered across the street, a queen’s voice filled with wrath and fire. Her chest heaved with outrage. "How dare you? How dare you?"

The head enforcer dropped into a hurried bow, though his grip on Talon never loosened. His eyes darted up nervously. "Your highness," he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "We are following orders, your highness."

Her nostrils flared. "Orders by who?" she snapped.

The man swallowed hard, then blurted, "Orders by the king."

For a long, shattering heartbeat, silence blanketed the street. Then Luna let out a laugh. A laugh that was sharp and bitter. "Orders...by the king," she repeated, slowly, tasting the betrayal in the words. Her lips twisted into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "My husband."

"Yes, your highness," the enforcer murmured, shrinking under her gaze.

Her fury surged again, unchecked. "Let him go. Now!" she commanded. Her wolf flared behind her eyes, gold bleeding into her irises. The enforcers shifted uneasily, but their grips remained firm.

"I’m sorry, your highness." The man’s apology sounded terrified. "Orders are orders."

Talon’s voice cut through her rage. "Princess," he called, his loyalty unbroken even as smoke hissed from his bound wrists. "It’s okay. Just send for King Kyllian. He’ll know what to do."

Luna’s eyes blurred with tears. Her chest ached. "No... I cannot. I cannot leave you."

She whirled back to the head enforcer. "On what charges?" she demanded.

The man faltered. Around them, the other enforcers shifted on their feet, nervous, caught between the decree of their king and the fury of their queen. Luna’s heart pounded, each beat an ache of betrayal—Damien. My husband. My mate. How could you do this?

Talon locked eyes with her.

But Luna could not stop her tears. They streaked down her face as her wolf rose inside her, trembling with the urge to tear apart every soldier in sight. She was queen, and she was wife, and in this moment, both roles broke her heart in half.

"Attempted murder of a member of the royal family," the enforcer answered flatly.

The color drained from Luna’s face. For a moment, she could not breathe. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Rage clouded her vision, her thoughts tangling in a storm of disbelief and fury. Her chest tightened until it hurt to draw air.

She staggered back a step, then steadied herself, her nails digging crescents into her palms. When she finally spoke, her voice was like a blade, cutting through the courtyard. "No. No, you will not do this."

But the enforcers did not pause. They dragged Talon forward, the silver biting cruelly into his skin. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and she felt her stomach drop.

"Princess," he rasped. "It’s okay. Just send for King Kyllian. He’ll know what to do."

Luna turned sharply, and stormed back in the direction of the castle. Each step fueled her fire, rage simmering hotter with every heartbeat.

As soon as she passed through the little gate dividing the King’s castle from the other royal buildings, she cut across the courtyard, her eyes fixed on the guards’ corner.

The guards on duty, lounging moments before, scrambled to their feet the instant they saw her approach.

"Where is Eryk? Where the fuck is Eryk?" she demanded.

"Commander Eryk has not been around for a couple of days now," one of them stammered.

"I need car keys."

"Which one, Your Highness?" another ventured cautiously.

"Any fucking one!" she thundered, the sheer feral edge in her tone sending a ripple of fear down their spines.

Quickly, one of the guards scrambled toward the rack of keys hanging on the stone wall, fumbling before pressing one into her hand.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the garage. The clicking of the fob echoed in the enclosed space, and one of the cars answered her with a sharp beep. She yanked open the door, slid inside, and started the engine with shaking hands.

The growl of the machine matched the pounding in her chest.

She drove out of the castle grounds. The world around her blurred into meaningless shapes. She would not sit back and watch as one of her own was crucified in Blood City.

She drove to the council building, the tires of the car screeching as she pulled into the cobbled courtyard. Luna didn’t bother to cut the engine or pull the keys from the ignition. She didn’t even close the door behind her. The machine sat there, humming angrily.

Her shoes struck the steps. The staircase wound up toward the council chamber. She threw the doors open with both hands, her fury giving her strength enough to rattle the hinges.

Inside, Damien stood at the base of the council platform. Lord Richard and Lord Bishop flanked him, stiff in their postures.

"I want everyone out!" she snarled.

The two lords didn’t hesitate. They bowed, deeply, their gazes averted. Even they weren’t foolish enough to test her in this state. With quick, almost stumbling steps, they hurried out of the chamber.

"You son of a bitch!" she spat the words like venom, her body shaking with rage. "Talon? You had Talon arrested?"

"Control yourself, Luna," he snapped. "You are a queen. Act like it."

The reprimand stung, and yet it only fanned the flames. How dare he speak to her like she was nothing but an unruly child?

She marched toward him, every step fueled by rage. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" she hissed.

Damien met her approach with the calm ruthlessness of a king. His eyes bore into hers, cold fire flickering in their depths. "King Kyllian agreed to the rules," he said evenly. "Rules you helped to draw out. If he—or any of his representatives—should commit a crime in Blood City, they will be held accountable. And they will face Blood City’s justice."

"What crime?" Her chest heaved, her wolf’s growl vibrating low in her throat. "What crime? What could he have possibly done that you have chosen to humiliate me—and my people—like this?" Her hands trembled at her sides, from the effort it took not to shred the room apart. Talon was her blade, her shadow, the man who had sworn to die for her. Seeing him dragged through Blood City in chains burned through her soul.

Damien’s face was carved from stone, his beauty sharpened by cruelty. His gaze met hers without softening, without yielding. "He attacked Isolde," he said flatly. "And left her for dead. Councilman Richard found her early this morning."

"You don’t believe that, do you?" she whispered. Surely, surely he couldn’t.

But Damien’s eyes remained unreadable, shadows swallowing the depth she used to drown in. "You will also be investigated," he continued. "As Talon was acting on your instructions. That has already been established."