He nodded and leaned back in his chair. "I gave him my access card. Either he or your mother can co by to see you whenever they want."
Luna’s face lit up. "Thank you, Your Highness. That ans... more than I can say."
"Now," Lucivar sighed, straightening as the weight of politics settled back on his shoulders, "to other matters."
She adjusted in her seat, sensing the shift in tone.
"I can’t give you details about what’s going on politically," he said, "since you haven’t yet been integrated as a citizen. But there are things you must always keep in mind."
"Of course."
"Always assu you are in danger."
Luna arched a brow. "That’s..forting."
"I’m serious," Lucivar said. "With everything happening—so of it hidden, so of it boiling right under our feet—I will advise that you remain within Blood Castle. Even if you’ll have your own building, your own rules—I’ll make sure you’re far from Damien if that helps your peace of mind. But you must be sowhere I can personally guarantee your protection."
Luna nodded quietly, her hands folding over her lap in a composed gesture. But inside, her mind whirred.
"I am not trying to frighten you," Lucivar said, leaning forward slightly, "but you are the prince’s mate. That title alone cos with enemies."
Luna straightened her spine. "I understand."
She did. More than she cared to admit.
"Also," Lucivar continued, "if at any point in ti, you do get pregnant... you cannot tell anyone."
"Excuse ?"
"As a matter of fact," he added, "tell before you tell Damien. I’m begging you. Please."
Luna couldn’t help the amused smile tugging at her lips. "Is this about the hybrid issue?"
Lucivar’s eyes narrowed. "Do you know how many council mbers I’ve threatened this week?"
Luna chuckled softly. "Well then, if I ever feel queasy or start craving rare steak with chocolate sauce, I’ll co directly to you."
"Please do," Lucivar sighed, dramatically leaning back. "In fact, I’ll assign you a personal doctor, nurse, guard, therapist, and if need be, an opera singer to lull you into naps. Anything you want."
She laughed outright now. "You forgot food taster."
"Right. I’ll throw in a retired assassin as your body guard."
"I am truly grateful, Your Highness," Luna said, bowing her head slightly. "And I do accept all these things... but I am not just so weak princess. I do have so survival skills."
Lucivar smiled. "Oh, I don’t doubt it."
He shifted slightly, eyes now more calculating. "Now, to the final matter... Is everything alright with Damien?"
Luna was caught off guard. Her smile faltered. "I... of course. I an, we see less and less of each other lately, but he’s fine."
Lucivar gave her a look that pierced through her polite mask. "Your father asked about his well-being."
"My father?"
"Yes," Lucivar nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It’s not unusual to check in on the man your daughter’s bonded to, but it was the way he asked. His tone... it sounded ominous. As though he suspects sothing’s wrong."
Luna’s stomach twisted.
"I can find out if all is well," Luna offered. "He is just always so guarded—like he has a thousand secrets locked behind a single look."
Lucivar exhaled, a weary sound that carried the weight of centuries of knowing too much and saying too little. "Yeah. That he is."
He leaned back in the plush armchair. His hands draped across the armrests, fingers twitching slightly as though even in relaxation, his body refused to be at ease.
"Please," he added after a pause, "let know if he’s alright."
Luna nodded, a solemn promise in her eyes, and slowly rose to her feet. She gave him a gentle bow, Then, she turned and exited the throne room.
*****
Damien was on his knees in pain.
He gripped his head. The pain ca in waves now. It always started from behind his eyes, before exploding outward in a crescendo of white-hot agony that seed to light up every nerve ending in his skull.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing a slow, ragged breath through clenched teeth.
f.(r)eewe/bnov\ll
Morvakar had said he had a year. A year to live. A year to love. A year to fix everything.
The bastard hadn’t said anything about spending that year feeling like soone was playing a symphony on his brain with flaming daggers.
He barely had ti to brace himself when a knock ca at the door.
He heard her heartbeat before she spoke.
"It’s ... Luna."
Damien groaned under his breath and forced himself to stand. He bit down on a sharp inhale and staggered to the door.
By the ti he opened it, his face was composed, though his pale skin had gone two shades too ghostly.
Luna stood there, looking radiant and anxious all at once. Her hair was swept up loosely.
"Hi," she said gently. "I was hoping we could talk."
"Can it wait till tomorrow?" he asked, trying for casual, but the wince that snuck through on the last syllable betrayed him.
"Sure... are you alright?" Luna asked, pausing at the threshold, her brows knit together with concern.
"Yes, of course," Damien said too quickly. He cleared his throat and added, "Just... it’s been a busy day at work."
Luna’s lips curled upward slightly in doubt. "Right. Tomorrow then," she said, her words light but her eyes sharp, searching his face.
Damien nodded, a move he imdiately regretted. The mont his head tilted, the pain struck with a vengeance, a white-hot lance of agony that tore through his skull. It was like soone had stabbed him behind the eyes with an invisible dagger. He gasped and stumbled back, one hand flying to his temple as if he could claw the pain out.
"Damien!" Luna cried out, rushing forward.
"I’m fine... I’m fine," he gritted through clenched teeth, though his pallor said otherwise. His breathing was shallow, and sweat had broken across his brow. "Just a headache."
Luna planted her hands on her hips, as if offended by the obvious lie. "That’s not just a anything," she snapped. "I’ll find a doctor."
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