CHAPTER 23: TRISHA YEARWOOD - HOW DO I LIVE?

"I mean, how did this even happen?" Rave was pacing now, a full monologue boiling out of her. "Why is the Moon Goddess doing this? What kind of twisted cosmic test is this? Oh, my poor baby! My baby! Where is she?!"

"Come on, Rave," Magnus tried gently, arms tentatively extended. "You don’t want her to see you like this. She’ll feel responsible. Come on... come here."

To his mild surprise and eternal gratitude to all the deities, she actually stepped into his arms. A hiccup of a sob shook through her petite frame.

Honestly, Magnus thought, as he wrapped his arms around his queen, she wasn’t reacting half as bad as he had feared. He’d imagined this conversation ending with a shattered window and himself walking away without his royal jewels—literally.

"You have to fix this, Magnus," Rave said into his chest. It was less a request, more a royal decree.

"I will," he said softly and reassuringly.

He kissed the top of her head, lingering for a long minute, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I will, my love," he repeated, more to himself this time. Hopefully the Moon Goddess was taking pity on him.

*****

Damien knew exactly where she would be.

He found her at the palace fountains.

There she was, sitting on the marble edge. Her toes hovered above the pebbled path, her fingers traced lazy, lost shapes into the cool water. She had taken off her wedding dress and wore something simple.

He stood there for a moment, just watching her. Drinking her in.

He cleared his throat.

"I’m sorry," Damien said softly. But Luna didn’t turn to look at him. She remained seated on the edge of the fountain, back straight, shoulders stiff. The water mirrored her stillness, disturbed only by the occasional tremble of her fingers dipping beneath its surface as if she could stir away the ache with ripples.

"I tried, Luna," Damien continued, taking a hesitant step forward, as if every inch toward her was a negotiation with the gods. "Believe me, please...I tried. It’s not the same for us as it is for werewolves. I didn’t ask for this, my Moonlight."

That nickname slipped out before he could stop it, a soft betrayal of his own emotional defenses.

Luna let out a bitter chuckle, one that could have curdled blood. "Pet names? Uhn... Does that work on other women? Because I don’t see myself swooning. If anything, I just developed a sudden craving to throw a shoe."

Damien winced. Fair. He probably deserved that. He deserved several shoes, actually. Preferably stilettos to the forehead. But he didn’t stop.

He walked closer until he was just a breath away from her, close enough to see the subtle sheen of unshed tears in her eyes, tears she would never allow to fall in front of him. "I would do anything to put a smile on your face," he said, "except watch you be with another man."

That made her laugh again, but this time it was quieter, sadder.

"And yet, that’s what’s going to happen, Damien," she said, finally turning to face him. Her eyes were sharp, stormy, luminous. "We may be fated mates, but our destinies are written apart from each other. This minor setback..." she gestured vaguely "...changes nothing."

"Luna..." he murmured, stepping closer, until their hands nearly touched on the stone edge of the fountain. "I know you’re mad at me. I know I’ve made a mess of this. A spectacular mess. I know that I could have handled things better. Fuck, I know. But please... don’t write us off just yet. Don’t throw away everything we could be because I screwed up the beginning."

She looked at him long and hard.

"What would you do, if you were in my shoes?" she asked. "If you had the fate of your kingdom resting on your shoulders? If your heart and your crown wanted different things?"

"I don’t know," he admitted. "I don’t pretend to understand the weight you carry, Luna. But I do know this..." he reached for her hand and, to his amazement, she didn’t pull away. They both watched the familiar crimson thread signifying their bond wound around their wrists. "...I’ve waited for you for centuries. Long before you were born. Long before your father. And I don’t want to give you up."

He took a breath, grounding himself, as if he were making a sacred vow in front of the Blood Goddess herself.

"But," he said, "I give you my word. If after these two weeks I’m still not the one you choose, I’ll go through with the severance. I’ll let you go, officially. I’ll walk away, no drama. And I’ll live the rest of my days a broken vampire...That last part was meant to lighten the mood," he added.

"It didn’t."

"Worth a shot."

"Don’t do that. Don’t make me feel guilty for my choices," Luna snapped.

Damien raised his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk on his face was strained at best. "Far be it from me," he said.

Luna turned her face away. "I need to go see Kyllian."

"Luna! Come on. Don’t tell me you love him already. All you did was spend a few days with him. What...did he enchant you? Did he..." he paused, breath hitching "...did he fuck you?"

"Fuck you!" Luna spat. And with that, she stormed off.

Damien stood rooted to the spot, blinking in the aftermath of her rage. He dragged a hand down his face and let out a groan. "I am not off to a great start," he muttered, to absolutely no one.

*****

Kyllian was already halfway into his second bottle of whiskey and starting to hum an old werewolf ballad off-key.

Talon glared at the bottle in Kyllian’s hand. "I’m going to kill you if you touch that bottle again, Talon," Kyllian growled.

"You plan on drinking your feelings into a coma?" Talon snapped, grabbing the bottle and yanking it away.

"Get away from me," Kyllian muttered.

Talon sighed, pacing. "What do you want me to do? Alpha, please...tell me what I can do to help ease your pain?"

@Harmonyque: I see you. Mwaahhh