Chapter 247: This Is My Child
The words were simple, but they shattered him: The Queen went to the werewolf territory to rest.
For a moment, Damien simply stared, his mind refusing to process the sentence. Then reality sank in, brutal and unrelenting. His knees nearly buckled as a guttural sound ripped from his chest. He roared—a scream so raw, so filled with anguish that the very stones of the chamber seemed to tremble. His fist shot forward before he could stop himself, driving straight into the wall. Stone cracked, dust showered down, and a jagged hole gaped in the surface.
It was agony because he had just damned himself in the name of surviving long enough to reach her. He had given in, marked another, broken every vow for the chance to find her again.
*****
Since the moment Luna had set foot in the palace, she had been smothered in affection and vigilance. Ravena would not even allow the palace maids to lay a hand on her daughter. "No, no, no—this is my child," she insisted whenever a maid approached with food or towels. "I will see to her myself."
So it was Ravena who bathed her, Ravena who helped her walk when her body ached, Ravena who hovered with every breath. She brewed steaming bowls of herbs to soak Luna’s sore body, pressed salves into her stomach with a mother’s determination, and carried trays of food into her room with her own hands. Nothing was delegated, nothing trusted to anyone else.
At first, Luna felt overwhelmed by the sheer force of her mother’s love. Yet when she caught her mother’s eyes—the haunted worry that still lingered there, the shadow of fear that her daughter might vanish again—Luna could not bring herself to protest.
She understood now. She was a mother too. She had carried life within her, and she knew the terror of imagining it ripped away.
"Mother, you need to take a break."
"Nonsense." Ravena brushed the remark aside with a wave of her hand. "I have nothing else to do than take care of you."
"I’m fine now," Luna insisted, shifting upright, ignoring the faint ache in her abdomen. "I just might shift later tonight and go for a run." Her lips quirked in a half-smile, but it was a fragile thing, masking the restlessness brewing inside her. It had been too long since she had run freely, too long since she had felt the earth beneath her paws. She needed the release, the freedom, before the walls of safety and overprotection suffocated her completely.
Ravena’s head snapped up, her eyes widening. "Are you sure that’s safe?Your body is still healing, Luna. Shifting so soon after birth could tear you apart from the inside. I can’t—" Her words faltered, her throat tightening as though she couldn’t bear to finish the thought.
Luna let out a small, weary laugh, though her eyes betrayed the seriousness beneath it. "I better get as much run as I can before I go back to Blood City."
"Kyllian told me you are adamant about that.You will not listen to reason, no matter how much it could cost you. Always stubborn, always chasing danger."
Luna’s brow arched, her lips pressing into a thin line. "What am I supposed to do, Mother? Have a long-distance marriage? Besides..." She straightened slightly, folding her arms. "You haven’t yet asked about your grandson."
The silence that followed was heavy. Ravena’s eyes softened, guilt flashing across her face, but it was fleeting. With a weary sigh, she looked away. "Everything that has happened since Damien came into our lives has been one trouble after another," she whispered. "War. Betrayals. Bloodshed. Heartache. Left to me, Luna... I would suggest the vampires leave us alone forever."
Luna’s chest constricted, heat rising in her cheeks. "Including my husband and child?" she shot back. "Are you for real right now, Mother?" She could feel her pulse in her throat. Ravena’s prejudice cut like a blade.
Before Ravena could respond—before the argument could explode further—a knock echoed against the door. A servant’s voice followed. "My Lady, Lord Kyllian requests entry."
"Come in, Your Highness," Ravena said.
Kyllian stepped inside, tall and composed, his presence filling the room. His eyes softened the moment they landed on Luna. "Princess," he greeted. "How are you feeling now?"
"I am better, really," Luna replied, forcing a smile. Her hand absently brushed her abdomen. "You all don’t need to fuss over me anymore." She leaned back against the cushions with a small sigh, trying to project ease, though the truth was that her restlessness was mounting by the hour. She had been coddled, watched as if she were glass. "Any word from Morvakar?" she asked, shifting the subject.
Kyllian shook his head, his jaw tightening. "No," he admitted. "But King Damien is outside the castle. I told the guards to stop him from entering."
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, her chest rising sharply as if air itself had betrayed her. "He is okay?" she whispered. Before Kyllian could blink, she was already pushing herself off the bed, her legs carrying her forward with sudden, unrestrained urgency. The world around her narrowed to a single thought: He’s alive.
A smile broke across her face, radiant and unstoppable, as tears burned her eyes. "He’s alive..." she whispered again, almost to herself, as though saying it aloud would anchor it in reality. Her heart raced.
Kyllian’s lips curved in a bitter line. "It would appear so," he muttered, though his voice carried a sting. "The man is a cockroach." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but his pride refused to call them back. He hated how her eyes had lit up at the mere mention of Damien, how her entire being had shifted from weary resignation to glowing joy.
Luna didn’t even hear the jab—or perhaps she heard it and chose to ignore it, too consumed by the surge of life pounding through her. Her body moved before thought caught up. She hurried out of the room, her pulse thundering in her ears. The hall blurred around her. She tore through the palace, through the open doors, until the crisp air hit her face.
(I’m caught between love and hate for Ravena)