Then, slowly, he turned toward Luna. "Princess," he said, "I need you to take Prince Damien’s hand in yours. And please, for the love of everything sacred...do not close your eyes."
Luna, standing at the center of this emotional storm, felt every muscle in her body scream for retreat. Her fingers hesitated midair, and for a brief mont, she considered running.
But instead, she reached out.
Damien’s hand t hers halfway. As their skin made contact, the crimson thread sprang to life around their wrists.
She could feel him. His pain. His longing. His restraint. He was trying so hard not to look at her.
"I need you to focus on your true feelings for the prince," Veyron instructed, stepping closer, eyes sharp with intensity. "Reach down inside your heart. What does it say?"
Luna swallowed thickly, struggling to keep her eyes open. But more than that...struggling not to drown. Damien’s emotions were pressing into her, pulling at the parts of her she’d tried so hard to lock away.
The thread glowed brighter, wrapping tighter.
"Now." Veyron spun on his heel and pointed to Kyllian, who had been watching quietly, jaw clenched, body tense.
"Take her other hand," Veyron commanded.
Kyllian stepped forward and took her free hand in his. Unlike Damien’s touch, which was heat and ache and restraint, Kyllian’s touch was grounding.
Luna gasped softly at the contact, like her body recognized sothing before her mind did. The other bond flared to life. It didn’t shimr...it howled.
"Now, Princess," Veyron said "while not letting go of how you feel about the prince, I need you to reach deeper. This may be more difficult, but try. Alpha Kyllian is here... find your wolf. How does she feel?"
Luna closed her eyes for half a breath, even though she’d been told not to. She didn’t need to see. She needed to feel. She reached inward, past her grief, past her guilt, past the exhaustion and fear. She found the wolf. Her other self.
And the mont she touched that part of her... sothing cracked.
Her eyes flew open, glowing blue like wildfire. She let out a sharp inhale.
Kyllian was gobsmacked. Her scent hit him like a blow to the chest. His knees buckled slightly, the world narrowing until it was only her...only them.
And before he could stop himself, before he could even think...
"Mate," he breathed. It was soft. It was instinct. It was truth.
Damien’s head snapped toward him.
Veyron blinked. "Well... shit. That confirms it."
Luna didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her whole body felt like it had been split in half. One part tethered to the vampire whose sorrow was an ocean, and the other part howling at the moon with the wolf who called her ho.
On one hand was the vampire prince, his grip on her both careful and possessive, the mystical red thread between them glowing softly. Their wrists were entangled in sothing far older than they understood, forged in blood and moonlight, fate and sorcery. It pulsed with the gravity of a promise neither of them had ever asked for, yet both had fallen.
On her other hand stood Kyllian, the werewolf alpha, the rock in her storm. His eyes were locked onto their joined hands now, wide and stunned, his fingers gripping her like she might vanish into mist. The bond had ignited in him. He hadn’t expected it. Maybe he hadn’t even wanted it. But now that it had co alive... it claid him as much as it claid her.
And in the middle, Luna sat, her hands a battleground between two forces destined to clash.
Veyron let out a long, theatrical sigh. He looked between the three of them. "Well," he muttered, "that’s just peachy."
Luna blinked at him, hands slowly lowering into her lap. "So... now what?" She sounded tired.
Kyllian shifted behind her like a bodyguard preparing for war. "What’s the next step, Veyron?"
The sage didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, he looked up at the sky, as if hoping the moon might change its mind and offer a bit of rcy.
Finally, he turned back and said, "I go back to my books. When or if I find anything useful, I’ll send word."
Luna wasn’t satisfied. "You know sothing now. Don’t you dare pretend otherwise." She stood, slowly but deliberately. "What does this an for ?"
"Princess..." he began. "Having two mates is rare but not unheard of. It’s happened a handful of tis in history."
Kyllian frowned. "But not like this?"
Veyron shook his head. "No. Never with two mates from different species. Vampires and werewolves were not ant to compete on this playing field.."
He began pacing now, hands behind his back. "The bond, any mate bond is designed to fuse two souls together. It’s beautiful, yes, but demanding. It requires space, ti, alignnt. And your body, Luna, it’s not built to sustain two opposing mystical pulls."
"And what happens," Damien asked tightly, "if she keeps both bonds?"
Veyron hesitated again. "The mont she turns twenty-one...That’s when the real struggle begins. Two bonds, pulling on one soul. It could drive you mad. Your powers could spiral out of control. Your body might begin to reject both bonds, causing severe pain, possibly death."
"What will happen to Damien or Kyllian?" Luna asked quietly. Her gaze remained fixed on Veyron, even as she felt the weight of both n beside her.
Veyron didn’t answer imdiately. His eyes, tired from years of research narrowed as he studied her. "Depends," he said finally, "on who you choose."
"Nobody."
Veyron arched a brow. "Well, that complicates things," he muttered.
Veyron sighed and moved to pace again, hands clasped behind his back. "Very well. For the werewolf," he began, nodding toward Kyllian, "after the severance ritual, the consequences are... minimal. The bond isn’t as spiritually invasive as the vampire’s. He might ache for a while, feel a little like he’s lost sothing vital but biologically, he’ll move on."
Kyllian gave a dry snort.
"But for the prince..." Veyron turned to Damien, whose jaw was tight and eyes dark. "That’s another story. The bond isn’t just emotional. It’s taphysical. A true-blood vampire’s mating bond is carved into his very essence. Over ti, he’ll lose his strength, his speed, his immortality."
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