The Vampire's Luna

Kyllian felt like punching something.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even glance at the door again. Instead, he yanked at his collar, pulled his shirt down like it could somehow erase the shame and lust and fury written all over his skin. He turned and walked away, his back straight but his insides coiled.

He had lost control. It was a reminder that he wasn’t the calm, noble protector he claimed to be. He’d let himself be ruled by need.

But he wouldn’t give Damien the satisfaction of seeing guilt in his eyes. Pride, stupid and burning, kept his head high even as his heart sunk into his boots.

Behind him, the tension didn’t fully ease. Magnus sighed and looked at Damien.

"What is going on?"

Damien didn’t respond right away. Instead, he turned to Queen Ravena, his gaze softer now, tinged with urgency and uncharacteristic vulnerability. "She needs you," he said.

Ravena didn’t ask questions. She didn’t waste time on maternal panic or royal decorum. With a sharp nod and a swirl of silk, she slipped past Damien and into Luna’s bedroom, her heartbeat accelerating as the scent of her daughter’s heat hit her. She was a queen, but more importantly, she was a mother. Luna needed her. That was enough.

As the door shut behind Ravena, Damien pivoted back to Magnus, his earlier restraint now unraveling at the seams.

"We have a problem," Damien stated.

Magnus exhaled through his nose, his hands tightening behind his back. "More?" he asked, not with surprise, but with exasperation. "Does it ever stop?"

"Morvakar heightened her heat," Damien said grimly. "It’s pleasure and pain. She’s fighting it, but she won’t last long."

Magnus blinked. "But how... How is that possible? My goddess! The laws of nature you people mess with...I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around it!"

"I’m telling you," Damien continued. "He was here. In this castle. Right under our noses. And it’s high time I paid him a visit."

Magnus turned sharply, fixing him with a piercing look. "Damien, you cannot kill him."

"I’m not going to kill him," Damien said with a grin that did little to reassure anyone. "I’m just going to have a conversation. You know, a very civil conversation."

Magnus stepped forward, clearly intending to make his way into Luna’s room, but Damien shifted subtly in front of him, blocking his path. It was a dangerous move, one that might’ve earned any other man a lifetime in the dungeons.

"Your Highness..."

Magnus’s eyes narrowed. "She is my daughter, Damien. I will not be kept from her."

"I know that. I respect that," Damien said gently, but the steel was still there. "But with all due respect, Your Highness... you truly do not want to see her that way."

Magnus’s brows furrowed. "What are you saying, Damien?"

Damien leaned in slightly. "I’m saying that the moment you step foot in that room, you will face something nothing has prepared you for."

He paused, let the silence stretch just enough to make the weight of his next words land with gravity.

"You’re going to have to make a choice," Damien said. "Are you going to be a father... or are you going to be a king?"

"That room?" Damien tilted his head toward the closed door. "That’s where your daughter is right now, breaking from the inside out. She needs safety. She needs peace. She doesn’t need a father who’s going to see her like that and try to hold onto his crown instead of her hand."

"What?..." King Magnus blinked, stunned.

Damien didn’t offer more clarity. Instead, he lifted a hand and said softly, "In this case, ignorance is bliss."

It wasn’t said with cruelty. It was protective. Compassionate, even. The only shield he could offer against the nightmare that lay beyond that bedroom door.

Magnus’s breathing quickened, the weight of it sounding heavier with every inhale. "What... what is happening to my daughter?" he asked. "How do I fix this?"

Damien looked away, jaw tightening. "I wish I could say," he replied. "I wish to every cursed star above us that I could snap my fingers and fix this."

Magnus swayed on his feet. He looked tired. Truly tired. "Is this it?" he asked. "Is this how she goes?" A beat. "I... We... thought we had more time."

"Your Highness, what Luna would like, more than anything, even in her dying breath is that we all do our duty...Yours is to go and inform your people that all is well. Keep them calm. Keep the kingdom steady. Don’t let panic seep in. Mine... mine is to do all I can to save her. Even if it costs me everything."

Magnus stood frozen, torn between loyalty to his kingdom and the raw pull of fatherhood. After a long pause, he gave a slight nod.

He turned to leave, taking three steps before stopping again. He pivoted back, eyes glinting with unshed tears.

"Prince Damien?...Thank you..."

Damien inclined his head, the gesture quiet but full of shared understanding.

The King departed in silence.

Damien exhaled. Then turned and opened the door.

Inside, Queen Ravena stood near the window, her back to the bed, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders trembled in silent sobs.

Luna was curled on the bed, behind a transparent screen. She whimpered faintly, caught in that no-man’s-land between consciousness and agony.

Damien closed the door behind him and spoke gently. "I asked you to come in here to be supportive, Your Highness. Not to fall apart."

"I can’t. I mean... I am, but look at my baby." Queen Ravena’s voice cracked as she gestured toward Luna. "Look at her."

She turned to the bed where her daughter lay, soaked in sweat, limbs twisted in pain, her usually sun-kissed complexion now drained of color. Her cheeks were ghost-pale, lips slightly parted, and just beneath them, the unmistakable glint of fangs peeked through—gleaming and utterly unnatural. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked like a newly turned vampire.