CHAPTER 28: ALICIA KEYS - IF I AIN’T GOT YOU

"At first?" she said, her tone honest, vulnerable. "No. Every werewolf has had it imprinted in their minds since kindergarten, probably before we could spell our own names, that vampires are the enemy. Creatures of the night, bloodsucking devils."

Damien snorted. "Guilty."

She gave him a sideways glance. "I mean, yes, the truce changed things. But centuries of horror stories don’t just disappear overnight. My grandmother used to hang garlic by the window."

"I remember those times," Damien said softly. "And honestly, it’s one of the reasons I think the Blood Goddess does this cosmic mate crap every few centuries. You know, just to mess with us. Sit up there in her divine throne and say, ’Hmm. Let’s stir some drama today.’"

"The Blood Goddess?" Luna raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You guys have a goddess?"

"Yep," Damien nodded. "You wolves have the Moon Goddess. We’ve got the Blood Goddess."

Luna’s lips twitched. "You think both goddesses are up there right now, watching us, drinking celestial wine, and laughing their divine asses off?"

"I know they are," Damien said with a chuckle. "Probably watching this and they are like. ’Oh look, Luna’s crying again. Quick, pour more wine!’"

That broke her. She giggled and it made Damien’s dead heart feel very much alive. For a second, the duties disappeared.

"You never did answer my question," Damien said quietly after a bit of silence.

Luna frowned. "What was that?"

"If you weren’t a princess..." His eyes searched hers with the hope of a man who’d already braced for the worst but still prayed for a miracle.

She didn’t let him finish.

"In a heartbeat," she whispered.

The words were barely out of her mouth when Damien leaned in and kissed her. It was soft but aching, like he was both savoring the moment and mourning it. Luna kissed him back, but only for a breath. A single, bittersweet breath.

Then she pulled away, gently.

"I should get some sleep," she said, avoiding his eyes as her fingers lingered against his chest for a second too long.

"Yeah..." Damien stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’ll get the maids to prepare a room for you."

Luna nodded and gave a small, awkward smile before turning to look at the sky, her arms crossed tightly like she was trying to shield herself from a cold truth. The moon was full, mockingly so, and the stars glittered. "You bitches," she muttered under her breath, glaring upwards. "I hope you’re having fun."

*****

Damien stood by the tall, crimson-curtained windows of his bedroom, his silhouette stark against the silver moonlight pouring in. He hadn’t felt this... awake in centuries. There was a strange buzz under his skin.

Her words haunted him, echoing in the hollows of his mind. "Look around you... Look at what you have to lead..." And so he looked.

He wanted to do his duty, to be the prince, the leader. But what was that duty now? To serve a kingdom that needed heirs, not heartbreaks? And how was he supposed to create those heirs when his very soul was bound to a woman who had pledged herself to another? Luna didn’t want him. She didn’t want this.

And yet, he couldn’t so much as look at Seliora without feeling like a cheating scoundrel.

Seliora had once been a comfort. A routine. A coping mechanism, if he were honest. But now, her touch felt like betrayal, though she had done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. If anything, she’d been patient. She accepted that he felt nothing. It was just duty.

But the idea of being with her again now? It made his skin crawl. It made his stomach twist. Because Luna’s rejection hadn’t freed him, it had imprisoned him in this twisted purgatory where his body burned for a woman that wanted nothing to do with him.

And then, there was his uncle. The vulture in velvet. Lurking in the shadows of every council meeting, grinning like a man who knew where the bodies were buried because he’d put them there. If that man got wind of Damien’s situation, he’d slither in and seize control. Damien couldn’t afford that.

Decidedly restless and in need of some clarity, Damien stepped out into the night, letting the cold bite at his skin. He made his way to the King’s Castle.

But as he reached the main hallway, a symphony of moans, grunts, and unapologetic wet slaps echoed through the ornate corridor.

He pushed open the heavy door to the living room, and there, sprawled was his father.

Being enthusiastically ridden by one of the king’s royal concubines.

"Get out," Damien said. He didn’t even glance at the tangled, sweat-slick mess of limbs across the royal chaise lounge. His tone alone was enough.

The concubine froze, mid riding, and immediately slid off the King of Vampires like a startled cat. She yanked her dress over her head in one frantic motion and she practically sprinted from the room, still buttoning up.

"You’ve been cock-blocking me since you were a child," King Lucivar grunted, flopping back into the chaise with a huff as he began the tedious task of rebuttoning his black trousers.

)

Damien gave him an unimpressed look. "I don’t care what you do with your rotating door of lovers, father. Though if you could do it somewhere other than the public living room where I have to sit when I come in here, that would be just fantastic."

He dropped onto the red velvet sofa across from him, letting out a long, world-weary sigh that came from the depths of his soul.

Lucivar shrugged, still half-smirking as he adjusted his belt. "So? What’s got you brooding? What can I do for you, son?"

Damien rubbed the back of his neck. "Luna’s not going to change her mind."

Lucivar blinked. "Ah. Shame." He leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. "She is quite the woman. Strong, wild spirit, great legs. If I were a few centuries younger and not your father, I might’ve given it a go."