Then, her lips curled into a chilling smile. "But that detail, you will keep to yourself."
Doctor Mira blinked. "My lady?"
Seliora stepped forward until they were almost nose to nose. "You and I know there is no baby," she said softly. "But to the rest of Blood City... there is a heir growing inside ."
Mira felt her pulse quicken. She was a doctor, not a liar, not a pawn in the concubine’s sches.
Seliora’s smile widened. "And you, my dear Doctor Mira, will provide with a replacent baby. At the right ti."
Mira’s breath caught in her throat. Her thoughts spiralled. She felt the walls closing in.
"You can’t be serious..." she whispered.
"I’m always serious," Seliora replied, already turning away as if the matter had been settled with a handshake. "I expect your professional cooperation."
"My lady, I can’t possibly... that... that is treason!" Doctor Mira’s fingers clutched at the hem of her coat.
"Treason?" Seliora tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as her lips curved into a smile. "But failing to help provide Blood City with an heir is already a treasonous act."
She stepped closer. "One whisper at court," she said softly, "and you’ll be beheaded."
Mira’s jaw trembled. "My lady... please, let’s just try again. There’s still hope—"
Seliora’s hand ca up, slicing the air. "No! The ti for trying is over...Now is the ti to act."
She leaned in. "You will provide with a true blood newborn."
Mira gasped. Her heart stuttered. "My lady!"
"Quiet!" Seliora snapped. "You will do as I say, or you will disappear off the face of the earth instantly."
And with that, she pivoted on her heel. She walked away into the misty night without a single backward glance.
Doctor Mira stood frozen in place, trembling, her breath shallow. She had once taken an oath to preserve life... and now she was being asked to create a lie. A treasonous lie.
*****
Luna was already dressed in her usual formal outfit, the royal envoy pin attached to her chest. Her hair was in a tight bun.
She hadn’t looked Damien in the eye since that announcent.
Seliora’s smug little declaration.
Damien, however, was not built for silence.
Standing shirtless in the kitchen area, his dark hair tousled from sleep, he poured himself a cup of hot blood-tea. He took a sip and eyed her over the rim.
"Luna?" he called.
"I have to get an early start today," Luna said. She moved around the room with robotic purpose, her hands thodically shoving docunts into her bag, each motion harsher than necessary. "I have to et the human president at the border to discuss the disappearance of humans."
"He needs to know every human turned goes through the proper administrative channels. And we haven’t heard or seen any rogues in months," she continued, speaking a little too fast now. "So they have to look elsewhere for their missing people."
Damien watched her with a stillness that was uniquely vampiric, his eyes tracking her every step. Then, in a breeze of motion, he was in front of her. Before she could sidestep him or throw another excuse his way, he gently grabbed her wrist and spun her around, forcing her to face him.
"Don’t do this," he said. "Don’t pull away from ."
Luna was caught in his gaze. There was no escaping it.
"That’s not... I’m not," she tried, her throat tightening. Her eyes darted toward the floor, as though so magical answer might be written in the marble tiles. "I’m just processing."
"Then process it with ," Damien replied, his thumb brushing softly across the inside of her wrist. "Don’t do it yourself."
"I just..." Luna inhaled sharply, gathering the courage to be real with him—sothing she hadn’t always allowed herself. "Do I have a right to be mad? I don’t know. But I am."
She stepped back a little, just enough to create a sliver of space between them, but not enough to truly leave.
"I an, I had two mates for goddess’s sakes," she added with a bitter laugh that lacked humor. "But it... I am jealous."
"I never held it against you," he said, stepping closer again. His hands cupped her face, his thumb brushing the apple of her cheek. "Being mated to Kyllian. I understood it."
He leaned down until their foreheads touched, his breath mingling with hers.
"It shouldn’t be a yardstick to not feel how you want to feel," he murmured. "Be mad. Be angry. Be whatever you need to be—just don’t push away. Not again."
Luna’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. Her arms itched to wrap around him, to pull him close and bury her face in his neck. But a part of her held her frozen in place.
"I’m not mad....I know a true blood heir is important. And it’s not sothing I can give you."
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, blinking fast. "I am half glad that you have that now."
Her breath hitched, betraying her. "It...it just hurts."
)
Tears stung her eyes.
Damien wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.
"I know," he murmured. "I’m sorry."
He kissed her hair, a soft press of lips that said far more than words ever could.
"We are going to have our own child," he said quietly. "A child born of love. And I am going to love the crap out of her."
Luna smiled through the blur in her vision. He was saying that for her benefit, to paint a picture of hope on a canvas sared with too many unanswered questions. And she appreciated it—she truly did—but she also knew what he wasn’t saying.
He was still hiding the truth.
The truth she had learned from Morvakar. The truth that hovered in the shadows. If no solution was found—and quickly—Damien wouldn’t be around long enough to see their child grow. He might not even be there to hold the baby in his arms.
Reviews
All reviews (0)