CHAPTER 33: LEONA LEWIS - BLEEDING LOVE

Lucivar stepped beside her. He looked at her, not as a king, not even as Damien’s father, but as someone who had long since sacrificed personal dreams at the altar of duty.

"Luna," he began, "one thing in life is constant. And that’s change. Centuries ago, vampires and werewolves wouldn’t have shared the same continent without trying to rip each other’s fangs and fur out. Now? Look at us. Allies."

"Yeah," Luna muttered.

"My point is more change can come through you. Through this... bond. You call it a burden, but maybe it’s the very thing that can forge a better future. Think of what you could do for your people with the resources we have here. The strength of two kingdoms. The knowledge, the protection. Your people wouldn’t just survive. They’d thrive."

Luna turned to face him now. "What are you saying?"

"I’m saying, you think this mate pairing is a curse... but maybe, just maybe, it can be a blessing."

******

Damien wasn’t exactly proud of how badly he was handling things with Luna. In fact, he’d been avoiding her. Which was, by all logical and emotional accounts, the worst thing to do when trying to convince someone they were destined mates. Or that he didn’t find her terrifyingly beautiful when she was angry. Or both. But the truth was, he still had questions.

He found himself trudging up the narrow path to the home of the kingdom’s most learned vampire. Sage Veyron.

Damien arrived at the small, crooked house at exactly 10:04 a.m. The sacred window after coffee but before lunch. Timing was everything with Veyron. If you interrupted him too early, he would throw you out.

Damien cleared his throat and called out toward the door. "Sage Veyron!"

No answer.

"Sage Veyron!"

A long pause, then a very annoyed voice shouted back, "What?!"

"It’s me. Prince Damien."

"So?" the sage snapped.

Damien sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. "Veyron, I checked the time. I made sure I came at the right time. Quit being an old pain in the ass. I need to talk to you!"

Silence again. Then a snort. "Still got that arrogant mouth on you. Thought becoming a future king might humble you."

"Not even slightly," Damien muttered, and the door creaked open.

Veyron was barefoot, robe open over suspiciously, holding a mug.

"Come in," Veyron grumbled, pushing the door wide open.

"You get grumpier and grumpier as you grow older," Damien complained.

"And yet," Veyron retorted dryly, "I age like fine wine. Bitter. Complex. Slightly dangerous if consumed in excess." He led Damien into the cozy chaos that was his sitting room.

"You haven’t come to visit me in ages," Veyron muttered as he shuffled past a stack of books that reached his shoulder. "So this must be about you storming the werewolf territory, huffing and puffing and demanding their king hand over your mate."

"That’s not exactly what happened," Damien said in exasperation.

Veyron turned to arch a snow-white eyebrow at him. "But you did crash a wedding, didn’t you?"

"Ah... I did do that," Damien admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Stupid!" Veyron barked, then sighed theatrically. "Now sit. Before your tragic love story gives me indigestion."

Damien sat on the nearest sofa. It was too soft. Like it was plotting to lull him into sleep with whispered lullabies and feathered dreams.

Veyron plopped himself into an opposing armchair. "So," he said, folding his arms, "what ails your broken, dead heart today?"

"Princess Luna," Damien replied. Even the floating books paused mid-air, as if curious about what came next.

"Ah. That’s her name, huh? Lovely. Has a poetic ring to it. What if she marries an alpha and becomes Luna? What will she be called? Luna Luna?" Veyron smirked, clearly too delighted by his own joke.

Damien gave a weak chuckle, then rubbed his temples. "That is a good question. But I came for answers, Veyron. Please."

The older vampire leaned forward, all teasing gone from his voice now. "You’re no fun at all. And that worries me."

Damien hesitated, then finally asked the question that had been eating away at him. "Is it possible... for her to be my mate... and yet have strong feelings for another man?"

Veyron didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at Damien, eyes ancient and sharp.

Finally, he sighed. "Yes. It’s possible."

"Look," Veyron continued. "The mate bond is sacred, yes. But feelings? They’re trickier. You can be bonded to someone by the pull of ancient magic and yet the heart may still tremble at the sound of another name."

"So..." Damien started, his voice quiet, "she could... love him?"

"She might," Veyron said gently. "Or she might just be confused."

"No, I mean..." Damien started. "I can clearly see that she wants me. I see it in her eyes. Her wolf accepts me. I feel it when I’m near her. But she admitted to having strong feelings for another man. It’s like she wants both of us at the same time!" he exploded. "I mean, is that even possible? I heard about a case when I was younger... something from the old scrolls. A woman who had two mates."

Veyron, who had been chewing a cookie finally raised an eyebrow. "Is this what you think is happening?"

"Isn’t it?" Damien asked, almost desperately. "Is that even a thing? Could it be happening again?"

"I cannot say," Veyron said, with maddening calm. He tapped a fingernail on the table, his old bones creaking as he shifted in his chair. "Not without observing all parties involved."

"Then observe me!" Damien snapped. "Study me. Stalk her! I don’t care! Just tell me what the hell this means!"

With a long, theatrical sigh, Veyron set his cookie down. "Very well. I’ll tell you what I do know," he said, leaning forward. "Having two mates is... rare. Rare enough to be considered a myth. It means the woman is bonded by soul and instinct to two men. And not just romantically. She needs both men to survive, to thrive, to be whole. But from experience... she will die."

Damien froze mid-breath. "What?"

"Yes," Veyron repeated, annoyingly calm. Having two mates splits her soul. The pull of one tears her from the other. It is... unsustainable."

"That’s insane!" Damien shouted. "That’s insane!"

Veyron shrugged. "Yes, well, the Blood Goddess is melodramatic."

Damien raked his fingers through his hair, torn between horror and a new depth of fear. "But why?" he asked. "Why would the goddess do that to her?"

"You’re focused on what’s happening now, but you need to ask how it happened. Why would a royal werewolf, end up with one vampire and one werewolf as her mates? There’s history here, Damien. Secrets."

"I had a feeling there was more to this." Damien said.

"You might want to dig up her family tree. Preferably before she ends up in a grave."

Damien slumped back onto the couch. "I can’t let that happen," he whispered.

"She will die at some point. You will definitely outlive her," Veyron said. "It’s not like you can turn her..."

He trailed off mid-thought, the sentence dissolving into the silence.

Damien, already on edge, narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"

Veyron didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared into the middle distance, tapping a bony finger against his chin as if trying to summon a long-buried memory from a thousand years ago. "I think... I think I read something in the old volumes," he muttered. "Something about dual mates and... a third path. But the details are foggy. I don’t remember."

Damien leaned forward, a spark of hope catching in his chest. "Are you saying there’s a chance?"

"I’m saying," Veyron said carefully, "I need a few days to find that book again. If it even still exists."

Damien stood. "Veyron, I don’t have a few days. Luna is leaving in a few days and that may be it. I cannot let her leave now that I know this. We might be racing against the clock."

Veyron rolled his eyes. "Oh please. Surely you can wait four days while I rummage through scrolls. I said I’d look. But all of this, Damien, is still speculation. You’re not even certain she has two mates."

But Damien was. He didn’t need confirmation. He felt it in every nerve-ending that came alive when she was near. He’d seen the hesitation in Luna’s eyes, the flicker of guilt when she turned away. Despite every growl of his instincts, Damien knew she cared about Kyllian way too much.

Still, he nodded slowly. "Fine," he said stiffly. "You’ll let me know."

"As soon as I find something," Veyron said, already reaching for another cookie.

Damien gave him one final glance before vanishing into the hallway, heart heavier than it had been in centuries.

*****

Kyllian stood at the gates of the Blood Castle, his usual confident smirk frozen in awe. The card he held gleamed gold with a faint pulse. The moment the guards saw it, their eyes narrowed respectfully, and they moved aside.

"Wow!" he muttered, eyes wide as they swept through his surroundings.