CHAPTER 174: MILEY CYRUS - THE CLIMB

Kyllian snorted, amused despite himself. "You bite me, and I might bite back. Don’t test me."

She playfully narrowed her eyes. "Alpha or not, I will win. I always win."

They both laughed, and for a brief moment, the thick tension between them lightened. But even laughter couldn’t cover the undercurrent of what remained unsaid between them.

"Fine," Kyllian said, relenting. "But if you need me, we need to find a way to get word across, Luna. Fast."

Luna nodded and changed the subject. "Why didn’t you come with your Luna?"

At that, Kyllian instantly stiffened. His shoulders locked, his hands slid into his coat pockets, and he stared ahead. "We cannot all leave town for a royal wedding."

Luna didn’t speak right away. She studied him, the small twitch in his jaw, the way he avoided her gaze. "Is that the real reason," she said slowly, voice silk with an edge of suspicion, "or is it the same reason you didn’t make her your queen?"

He looked at her then, and his eyes said more than his lips ever would.

"She’s my wife, Luna," he said finally.

"And yet, not your queen." Her tone wasn’t mocking—just honest.

Kyllian kicked at a loose stone on the ground, watching it skitter across the castle path. His jaw clenched as he avoided Luna’s gaze.

"I have my reasons."

Luna raised an eyebrow.

"Reasons like waiting for my husband to die."

Kyllian smirked, unapologetic.

"It’s called hope."

Luna let out a breathy laugh, though there was nothing funny about the pity she felt for this man who once held her heart and refused to let go.

"I’d find that insulting if I wasn’t in a good mood." She tilted her head. "He isn’t going to die, Kyllian. I’m not coming back."

He looked at her.

"I could arrange his death myself then..."

The sudden voice that cut through the air was velvet over steel.

"Arrange whose death?"

Kyllian turned, not startled—he was a king after all—but perhaps a little annoyed that his private moment with Luna had just been crashed by him.

Damien, Vampire Prince and soon-to-be husband, stood with that infuriating casual power. His black coat fluttered lightly in the wind, his eyes sharp and unreadable. But his hand reached for Luna instinctively, possessively, as if he needed to confirm she was still by his side.

"Yours." Kyllian replied with a grin too wide to be friendly.

"Charming as always, King Kyllian." Damien tugged Luna to his side gently, hand brushing her waist. "I hope your trip was stressful... and very painful."

Luna groaned. "Boys, behave."

"He started it." Damien muttered, pulling Luna even closer. She gave him a knowing side-eye.

"What are you two doing out here anyway?" Damien asked, scanning her from head to toe. His eyes lingered on the slight exhaustion in her features. He frowned. "You should be off your feet. You need your strength for tonight."

Luna smiled. Her prince. Always worrying. Always trying to protect her even when his world was falling apart inside.

"I needed to speak with His Highness privately," she said diplomatically, glancing at Kyllian. "So I made him walk me back to your building."

Damien tilted his head slightly at Kyllian but let it go. For now. The smirk on his lips said he was winning in the only game that mattered—Luna’s heart.

"Well, we’ll see you tonight at the wedding then, Your Highness." Damien’s voice carried just enough finality to end the conversation, a verbal door politely shut.

"Of course," Kyllian said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tailored black coat. He gave a short, dry smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes—and turned away, walking back the same way they had come, each footstep echoing with a trace of defeat wrapped in simmering hope.

Damien, watching him go, sighed and turned to Luna with that amused squint he wore when trying to act chill while being 100% not chill.

"Privately, uhn?" he asked, as he guided her up the stairs and into the building. His hand settled lightly on the small of her back, possessive but not suffocating. Classic jealous vampire.

Luna rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching up.

"I’m not telling you. It’s Royal Envoy business." She lifted her chin in mock pride. "Classified. Top secret. Werewolf clearance only."

Damien opened the door and held it dramatically.

"Of course, my royal diplomat." He winked. "And for the record, if you wanted to torture me, ’Royal Envoy business with Kyllian’ is an excellent way to do it."

******

Queen Ravena had arrived—and with her arrival, the castle practically quaked under the force of her presence. The staff fell in line. Not even the head florist dared adjust a petal without Ravena’s nod of approval.

Ravena Sinclair was a woman of vision. And that vision had absolutely no room for error. This was her daughter’s wedding—the wedding of a princess, an alpha’s heir, now fated mate to the Vampire Prince of Blood City. If that wasn’t cause for drama and elegance, what was?

She stormed into the prince’s quarters, eyeing every detail. But then she saw Luna—and her breath caught.

There she stood, the soon-to-be Vampire Queen, radiant in soft ivory satin and delicate silver embroidery. The designers hovered around her, fluffing, fixing, perfecting.

Ravena’s voice cracked slightly.

"If your husband had a beating heart, he would have a heart attack."

Luna laughed, holding her veil up playfully.

"Goddess, please. I still want a honeymoon. Let’s not induce a coma."

The whole room chuckled.

Just then, the door creaked open and Doctor Thessa slipped inside, wearing a white coat over her ceremonial dress. She gave a courteous bow.

"I’m going to ask for a little private time with the bride, please. We need to get her strength up for the ceremony."

The stylists slowly nodded and began to pack their things, whispering and giggling.

Everyone filed out slowly, their murmured congratulations and final makeup tips fading. The door clicked shut behind the last stylist, leaving only Ravena standing tall with her arms folded. Her eyes didn’t miss a single detail: the intravenous drip, the silver-edged medical case, the slightly pale tint on Luna’s cheeks despite the makeup. She hadn’t raised a princess just to hand her over to the undead.