CHAPTER 184: RAELYNN - QUEENS DON’T

Luna turned, the smile still fixed on her lips but dulled in her eyes. "You and I know he won’t be. He wanted me to be queen of the Werewolf Kingdom. Not... Blood City."

"He came to respect Damien, and he would give anything to see you safe," Ravena said, her voice trembling with the weight of memories too sacred to speak of aloud. "Being with Damien meant you would be safe and alive. Nothing else mattered. He was a good father."

Luna touched her arm gently.

"I know you miss him, Mum. I miss him too." Her father’s death was a wound that hadn’t scabbed over yet. It never would. "If you want, you could stay here some more after the coronation."

Ravena laughed softly, but there was no real mirth in it. "I miss real sun more," she replied, her smile touched with longing. "I miss the woods. I miss letting my wolf out. I’d rather be home...The only thing about home that isn’t appealing is Kyllian’s Luna."

Luna groaned. "Mum... you are supposed to encourage him to get closer to his wife."

Ravena arched an elegant brow. "Encourage him? The maids come to my quarters to hide from her, Luna."

Luna crossed her arms, lips twitching in exasperation. "He can sense that you do not like her. And Kyllian respects you almost as much as he did Father. Could you at least pretend that you like her?"

"I try," Ravena said, raising both hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "But she makes it difficult. The way she stares down everyone like they’re beneath her... it’s not fitting of a Luna much less a queen...Although... gossip around before we left is that Kyllian finally did his husband duties."

Ravena smiled knowingly.

Luna’s mouth fell open in disbelief. "Mother!"

"What?" Ravena shrugged. "It’s good news. Maybe she’ll soften up a little now that she’s been thoroughly—well, you know."

Luna’s cheeks flushed a shade too close to scarlet for comfort, but her laughter followed close behind.

"Mum, are you gossiping with the maids again?" Luna asked with a smirk.

Ravena didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. "Don’t judge me," she said, lifting her chin in mock defiance. "They do have juicy gossip."

Luna rolled her eyes affectionately but couldn’t suppress her smile. She sighed. "Shall we?"

"Of course, love." Ravena took her daughter’s arm gently, and together they stepped into the open courtyard, her ceremonial cloak trailing behind her.

As they approached the Temple, Luna paused. Her breath caught as she stared up at the intricately carved columns. About a week ago, she had stood on these very steps, dressed in her wedding dress, marrying a vampire prince before the lords that ruled this world. And now, she was about to be crowned queen of it.

She giggled, the sound soft and bright against the somber air. Turning to Ravena, her eyes sparkled with disbelief and joy. "It’s really happening."

Ravena smiled with pride and a quiet ache. "Yes, sweetie. It is."

Without another word, Luna pulled her mother into a tight hug. For just a heartbeat, she allowed herself to sink into that embrace — into the warmth and safety that only a mother could offer. Then, with one last squeeze, she stepped away and waved goodbye, her heart pounding as the great temple doors creaked open before her.

The moment she entered, a hush fell over the vast space. The ceiling soared high above. All the Lords of Blood were seated in a wide crescent around the ceremonial floor, their gazes sharp and silent. At the center of it all, on a dark throne, sat King Luciver himself.

Luna was led forward by two temple maidens. She knelt gracefully onto a cushion. Her hands trembled slightly as she rested them on her lap, her spine straight, her expression composed. Inside, however, her thoughts churned.

Where is he?

Minutes bled into an hour. Time slowed. She could feel the lords’ stares. Hear the whispers. Damien was late — and not by a little.

Her heartbeat became a drum in her ears. She kept her face placid, trained by months of political etiquette, but dread coiled in her gut. Did something happen?

Just as her anxiety reached a fever pitch, King Luciver’s deep voice echoed through the chamber, dark and commanding. "Find the prince!"

The guards moved immediately. A murmur rose among the Lords.

Luna stared at the doors. Her fingers clenched slightly into her gown. She couldn’t let them see fear.

Where are you, Damien?

*****

TWO HOURS EARLIER

The sun had barely begun its lazy crawl over the peaks surrounding Blood City when King Luciver clasped Damien’s shoulder with a firm grip. The king’s palm, calloused and scarred from centuries of ruling both battlefield and court, lingered a second longer than necessary.

"Go get ready, Damien," he said. "I may be retiring today, but I will still be around to help you get settled into the throne properly."

Damien arched a brow. His eyes studied his father with a mix of surprise and—dare he admit it—relief. The thought of ascending without Luciver’s shadow nearby had left a gnawing tension in his chest, even if he hadn’t voiced it. The throne came with more than power—it came with enemies, expectations, and the weight of legacy.

"Oh..." Damien exhaled, feigning nonchalance. "I thought you were going to head to the Silver City with your concubines almost immediately."

Luciver let out a low chuckle. "No. I will be here until I am sure you do not need me anymore."

Damien ran a hand through his hair, his smirk returning as sarcasm laced his next words. "So why in the hell did I spend the night with you instead of my wife?"

Luciver grinned. "A guys’ night is something you need. Not trapped between the princess’s legs for hours on end."

Damien’s eyes narrowed slightly, embarrassment flaring across his face. "How did you know about that?"

"The maids talk," Luciver said, shrugging as he poured himself a drink. He swirled the dark red liquid before continuing. "And my concubines tend to give me all the juicy details."

(Please, refer to author’s note)