Chapter 303: What If He Isn’t?
Damien swallowed, forcing the next words out. "Morvakar’s son would have the same magical signature as him."
"But...But Morvakar’s son is dead."
"What if he isn’t?" he asked.
"Morvakar said Lucivar killed him," she argued softly.
"If Morvakar trained his son in the art of sorcery, I’m sure he knows a way to cheat death." A sorcerer trained by Morvakar could indeed unravel the rules of mortality itself.
"And Morvakar isn’t here for us to ask him," Luna whispered, her heart tightening. Gods, she missed him.
"That’s not really what bothers me. Isolde said a man walked up to her and gave her this." He raised the necklace and let it dangle between them. "Morvakar redirected the magic before he went into purgatory. He made sure it would find the sorcerer who created it."
"Okay," Luna breathed, her brows furrowing as she stared at the trinket. S She lifted her gaze back to him, biting her lower lip unconsciously. "So what’s bothering you?" She knew him well enough to sense the storm beneath his words.
Damien ran a hand through his hair, visibly agitated, then leaned down so close she could feel his breath against her temple. "When I was leaving Isolde’s house, the necklace pulsed," he explained. "But we couldn’t see anyone. Talon searched."
Her lips parted. "What are you saying?"
"I am saying Isolde is working with the sorcerer who made this," Damien declared finally. "And that sorcerer is most likely Morvakar’s son, which will explain the sudden interest in werewolf territory."
Luna’s heart plummeted. "What?"
"Werewolves killed his mate."
"Oooooooh..." Luna let out a long, shaky sigh, trying to lighten the dread even as it gnawed at her ribs. "Are you sure you want to point this particular accusing finger at Isolde?"
"There was a part of me that felt guilty for treating her the way I did," Damien admitted. His broad shoulders stiffened. "I was dismissive. Cold. It was basically using and tossing her aside. She just... made it easier."
Luna’s lips curved into a smile. Inside, she lifted her chin to the heavens and silently challenged the blood goddess herself. Is that the best you can do? Toss me scraps and call them rivals? Next time, send me someone worthy of my king’s heart—so I can crush her too. Her pulse quickened with pride. Outwardly, she only tilted her head and said, "What do you want to do?"
Damien’s gaze flicked to the horizon beyond the balcony, where Blood Castles spread out. "How do we fight an enemy we cannot see, an enemy we don’t know what he looks like?" He clenched the necklace in his hand.
Luna moved closer. She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her forehead to his chest, steadying the storm inside him. "Hey..." she whispered. "What have we always done together?" Her lips brushed against the thin fabric of his shirt as she spoke, the warmth of her breath seeping through to his skin.
He let out a low laugh as he tilted her chin up with a single finger. "We have always won," Damien answered.
"And we will," Luna promised fiercely, her eyes blazing with conviction that made him want to kneel at her feet. "Every single time. We might hurt, we might burn, but we will win." Her hand pressed to his chest. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth.
"That’s the problem," Damien whispered hoarsely, gripping her waist. His forehead pressed to hers, and his eyes flickered with desperation. "I can’t watch you hurt."
"You will," she breathed. She framed his face in her hands, forcing his eyes to stay locked on hers. "And I will survive it. I have you, I have Magnus, and I would turn the world inside out to keep you both safe and happy."
His throat worked as he swallowed hard, a growl rumbling low in his chest that was equal parts frustration and desire. His hand slid into her hair, tangling possessively. "Do you trust me to handle Isolde, Moonlight?" he asked finally.
Luna hesitated, her lips parting. "Damien," she whispered finally, "I think I should be in the best position to—" She stopped herself, chewing the inside of her cheek. She wanted to take the burden, wanted to protect him.
"Whatever you do," Damien interrupted, "will be translated into the actions of a jealous queen." His hand covered hers. "The council will twist your words, your intentions, your every breath. They will weaponize your devotion against you. I need you to let me do this, Luna. Let me carry this."
Luna swallowed, hard, her throat dry as ash. Her lashes fluttered, her gaze burning with all the contradictions she carried—queen, mate, lover, fighter. "What do you need?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
Damien exhaled. He pulled his wife closer, until their bodies aligned, chest to chest. "I need you to do two things," he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers. "To trust me. Infinitely and entirely." His breath ghosted over her lips. "And to remember that I love you—beyond the bond, beyond the laws, beyond anything that could ever try to pull me from you. I would never, ever hurt you."
Luna held her husband’s gaze. Her fingers slid up the back of his neck, nails teasing the edge of his hairline. "Infinitely and entirely," she breathed, sealing the promise. And in her heart, she added: and even if you did hurt me, Damien, I would still choose you.
*****
Kyllian couldn’t sleep. His mind was a storm. He hadn’t heard back from King Damien. Any day now, the child would be born, and with its first cry, the goddess would no longer be hidden but exposed to the cruel politics of the world.
He threw back his covers with a frustrated growl and swung his legs off the bed. He wore only a pair of loose shorts and a fitted black shirt that clung to his chest, the fabric pulling against every line of muscle.
He stalked out of his chambers. He needed air. The castle was quiet at this hour. His mind, however, would not quiet.