To anyone else, it might have looked obsessive—paranoid even—but Morvakar sealed his lips and held his tongue. He’d seen too much in her eyes to call it madness.
He understood her reasons for being like this. The heir was a future, a fragile thread of hope she looked forward to.
He thought back to his own despair, the night he had almost broken beneath the fear of losing the heir. He had been terrified of Luna’s heartbreak. The thought of watching her eyes shatter if her child slipped away had gutted him more than death ever could.
But what he had failed to consider—what humbled him now—was how much it would wound Thessa too.
A woman burdened with more devotion than she’d ever confess.
"You know," he said softly, "there is such a thing as too much doctoring."
Her head snapped up, erald eyes flashing in defense. "I just want to be sure there are no effects from the sun shards you used on him." She adjusted the blanket over the child again, smoothing it.
"I an, yes—I’m relieved, glad he survived. But I still worry. Vampires that need sun shards to be broken usually carry so kind of effect. It’s like he has none, and that... scares more."
"If you rember correctly, Thessa...he died. That’s enough effect for one lifeti."
"I guess you’re right," she admitted.
"But," he murmured, folding his arms across his chest, "you still won’t stop worrying."
"No," she said simply, almost stubbornly. "I’ll have to ask the queen if I can continue as his doctor. Drop in every once in a while, check his health quietly. I was only supposed to see the pregnancy through, but..."
She trailed off, her eyes flicking to the sleeping child again, softer now, almost pleading. "...I don’t want her to think I’m so sort of creep. Lurking around the heir like I can’t let go."
"Luna would be elated to have you," Morvakar murmured, his voice low as his arms closed firmly around Thessa’s waist. "Now," he added, "would you focus on for a minute?"
"Needy, are we?" she teased.
"Maybe. I had an incredible ti with you. It’s like I’m addicted now." His lips brushed her temple, then her cheek, until finally he caught her mouth in a kiss that was slow.
"Aw.. this is so sweet."
The sing-song voice ca from the doorway.
Morvakar reluctantly tore himself from Thessa’s mouth, his hands dropping but not without a subtle graze along her back that promised more later. His eyes flicked up to the intruder.
"Your Highness," he greeted, bowing with just enough stiffness to mask the irritation curling inside him.
Luna’s brows arched, her eyes flicking between them. "When did this happen?"
"What?" Morvakar asked smoothly.
"This..." She gestured between the two of them with a graceful sweep of her hand, her fingers glinting with the dazzle of her rings.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," he teased. "How are the heir’s ceremony preparations coming along?" His deflection was elegant.
Luna narrowed her eyes but allowed the pivot. "It’s okay. I ca to see you, Morvakar."
"Oh?" He straightened, all business now. "Is everything all right?"
"I’ll excuse you both," Thessa offered quickly.
"No, you can stay," Luna countered, waving her back down. "I an, you have been with through all these months. Surely you know I trust you."
Thessa stood her ground.
"I had a run-in with Isolde yesterday," Luna began. "I was wrong about her. She is not willing to let go without a fight."
"I’m lost, Your Highness," Thessa admitted softly, her brows knitting together. She glanced between Luna and Morvakar.
"That’s right," Luna said. She stepped closer.
"You don’t know the history yet. Well, your sweetheart here—" she tilted her chin toward Morvakar, "—while bored out of his mind in exile, decided to bless my mother with a child. But there was a twist, of course. He couldn’t just stop there. He made sure to embed with vampire genes, threading them through my very soul, and then he manipulated events so I would be mated to the king."
Thessa gasped quietly, her hand flying to her lips. She looked at Morvakar then.
Luna pressed on. "Turns out, we both had our mates out there. Marking poisoned him. My bond with Damien—it should have been everything, but instead, it nearly destroyed him. And the only way to purge the poison from his system was for him to find and mark his true mate. Which Gabriel, of all people, made sure he did. I still don’t know why."
"Oh." Thessa blinked, putting the pieces together, her sharp mind racing ahead now that the puzzle had been laid bare. "I’m caught up now."
"So, what do I do?" Luna suddenly blurted, her guard faltering in a way Thessa had never seen before. "Lord Lucivar already looks like he is disappointed in . Like I’ve let everyone down just by... feeling what I feel."
"So, to everyone else, this lady is an angel. But you know better."
"I an...She fooled . Or maybe sothing changed for her. I don’t know. Maybe it’s . Maybe I wanted to be fooled, to believe she was harmless. But she isn’t harmless. She wants it all."
"Well then," Morvakar said. "I think sending her away from the castle is a terrible idea."
"Morvakar, I cannot let her anywhere near my husband. He is already struggling as it is. He didn’t want to do this—he had no choice." Her throat tightened as she forced the words past the lump of pain there. "And with the bond sealed, he is powerless to it."
"You should keep your enemies even closer than your friends," Morvakar said evenly. "Wherever she is, you don’t know what she is up to. You don’t know what her plan is."
"So you’re saying keep an eye on her," Luna murmured, her lips pressing together.
"Exactly."
"I’m tired, Morvakar." Luna finally admitted. "I need so peace." She wanted quiet, wanted to love her husband without the ghost of another woman’s bond whispering between their skins.
"You are a queen," Morvakar said gently. "Peace escaped the mont you accepted the crown."
Luna exhaled and studied him. "How are you doing?" she asked at last.
"?" Morvakar gave her a small shrug. "I’m fine."
"Are you sure?" she pressed, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Still no effects from summoning the moon and holding it in place for hours?"
"None... none whatsoever." He lied. He stole a glance at Thessa, standing slightly behind him, and saw the way she shifted uneasily, her fingers twisting together.
Her loyalty warred with her conscience—her sovereign deserved the truth, yet her heart refused to betray the man she loved.
Thessa’s eyes lingered on him. She bit her lip, holding her tongue.
Just a few days more, Morvakar told himself, and he would confess everything to Luna. Luna had too much on her shoulders now. To pile his suffering on top of that? Cruel.
Luna, however, was no fool. She looked to Thessa and caught the fleeting expression on her face—the flicker of guilt, the subtle twitch of unease. She knew Morvakar was lying. But she didn’t push. There was no use.
So truths, she decided, would reveal themselves in their own ti.
*****
Isolde paced the length of the parlor, her thoughts simring. Why hadn’t she heard from him? She had done exactly as instructed—etched a mark on the tree just outside the gates of Blood Castle, a sign known only to them.
She had waited. Now that she was banished from the castle, she wondered if he would even be able to find her.
Lord Lucivar had given her a house on the boundary of Blood City, a modest estate. It was, by all standards, generous—a courtesy extended to a woman who should have been discarded. Yet generosity was not enough. She was no concubine to be placated with scraps.
She deserved more. She was entitled to more. She was born for more. The castle should have been hers. The crown should have bent to her touch.
She thought of Natasha then, their whispered conversation in the dead of night still playing in her mind. Natasha had spoken truths no one dared utter. That the queen, Luna, was not the benevolent savior the people adored but a spoiled girl accustod to getting her way.
The sa patterns had repeated all her life. Working as a maid for the royals in the city where she had been raised, Isolde had grown used to being invisible and indispensable at the sa ti.
Overnight, the so called royals had turned her father from respected councilman into a disgraced man, and with his fall ca hers. She had spent years bowing, scrubbing floors. She was done letting them walk over her.
Done being told to wait patiently while others claid what was rightfully hers.
By the ti the clock chid midnight, she moved through the house Lucivar had given her, locking each door. She tugged the shutters tight, closed the windows. She padded to the bedroom, already imagining the oblivion of sleep.
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