"It is not a feeling that can be described," Luna said gently. Her gaze returned to Magnus, her heart tugging with fierce love. "It’s... an unconditional love. You feel it in your bones. Even when he cries for hours and Damien looks like he’s one minute away from pulling his hair out." She laughed softly at her own words. Motherhood had remade her.
"Let’s take a stroll," Kyllian said suddenly, breaking the intimacy of the mont.
Luna blinked, arching a brow. "You know Damien will blow a gasket."
"Relax. I told him already."
Her disbelief sharpened her features. "And he agreed?" She could already picture Damien’s scowl.
Kyllian smirked. "In his words: bring my wife to in ti or I swear I will pull out your heart and eat it."
Luna threw her head back and laughed, stifling the sound quickly so as not to wake Magnus. "Yup. Sounds like him." The image of Damien snarling such a promise was so quintessentially him.
"Where is he anyway?" she asked, curiosity threading her voice.
"I told him to help take a look at our boundaries," Kyllian explained, hands slipping behind his back. "Now that the search for the rogue vampires is over, we don’t know what else we might face." Peace was never permanent.
Luna grabbed a shawl from the arm of a chair. She draped it across her shoulders, the faint chill of the night pressing against her skin as she stepped out beside Kyllian. The castle’s glow dimd behind, replaced by the quiet pulse of crickets and the distant howl of wolves in their patrol. She glanced sideways at Kyllian, his tall fra effortlessly cutting through the night air, his steps both protective and purposeful.
"Did you want to talk to about sothing?" Luna asked after a mont. She pulled the shawl tighter.
"Not really," he said at last. "I just want to know about you." His eyes flicked to her face briefly before he added, almost casually, "Talon told sothing about Damien’s true fated mate."
"It’s complicated, Kyllian," she murmured. "But we needed her to save his life."
"And is he safe now? He’s not dying?"
"He is good," Luna assured softly. She turned her head to catch his gaze, a small smile ghosting her lips. "Are you actively looking for a queen now?"
"I don’t know." Kyllian’s mouth twitched, as if the words tasted strange to him. "I have a... uhm... what do you call it in Blood City? A concubine now." He rubbed the back of his neck, uncharacteristically awkward. "Just soone to release all the tension with. Besides that... nothing more."
Luna laughed. "You need a queen," she pointed out, shaking her head. Her steps slowed as they took a turn into a path leading into the woods.
"Soday," Kyllian said. "Soone who fits the throne. Soone who can fill your shoes." He paused. His gaze lingered on her. "But I still feel like the throne was never ant to be mine. I feel like I am rely warming up the seat for its rightful owner. You."
"I cannot sit on two thrones at the sa ti," Luna said, tugging the shawl closer around her shoulders as the wind threaded through the branches. The forest was alive tonight, whispering secrets through the leaves, owls hooting sowhere deeper in the dark. "Blood City politics is already a full-ti job." She barely had ti to breathe as it was.
"I know," Kyllian admitted. "It’s about . I feel... unworthy." His shoulders squared as if bracing for battle. For all his strength, Kyllian had never shaken the feeling of being second-best, a king by circumstance rather than destiny.
"Kyllian," Luna said softly. She slowed her steps, forcing him to look at her. "My father thought you worthy. You should feel it too. The throne doesn’t belong to the Sinclairs anymore—it belongs to the Rykers. To you. And you have to ensure you do everything to keep the kingdom standing even long after you are gone."
Kyllian’s mouth curved faintly. "We’ll see," he said, which was as close to acceptance as he ever gave. Then, almost too casually, he added, "I was told you t King Damien in these woods."
Luna looked ahead, and only then did she recognize the path. mory slamd into her: Damien’s eyes burning, the crackling of fate between them. Her lips parted, a breath escaping before she managed, "Yeah. Who told you that?"
Kyllian turned his head slowly, and revealed the truth with a flick of his chin. Standing just a few feet away, half-shadowed by the trees, was Damien himself. The King of Blood City—her mate, her storm, her undoing and salvation in one. His presence charged the air instantly, dominance rolling off him in waves. The forest seed to bow.
"He did," Kyllian said simply, stepping back with the smallest hint of satisfaction tugging at his mouth.
Luna smiled despite herself, shaking her head as her heart thumped wildly. "I cannot seem to get over this love-hate relationship between you two," she said. "One minute you’re working together, and the next, you’re at each other’s throats." It was exhausting—and yet, in a twisted way, reassuring.
"One thing binds us." Kyllian’s smile was brief, his gaze steady as he looked between them. "You." The confession was stripped of pretense, heavy with both admiration and resignation. Then, he gestured toward Damien. "Go get your man."
The night air humd with tension as Luna’s feet carried her forward, every step pulling her closer to Damien’s waiting shadow. She could feel both n’s eyes on her but she belonged to only one.
"What is this?" she asked.
"Well, look at that," Damien drawled, his lips curling into a smirk that was both wicked and boyish. "Only took a few centuries, but I found you." Fate had bound them in threads too tangled to sever, and tonight, he wore the knowledge.
Luna’s smile widened, and she stepped into him without hesitation. Her arms slid around his waist, pressing herself to the hard lines of his body, savoring the familiar chill of him. "What are you doing?" she murmured into his chest.
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