CHAPTER 39: GLORIA GAYNOR - I WILL SURVIVE

"And you!" she jabbed a finger at him. "You’re the only person I know here. You and your father. What am I supposed to talk to him about, huh? ’Oh the sun looks lovely today, doesn’t it?’

"I can get you a companion," Damien said casually.

"Are you crazy?" she shrieked, spinning to face him, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "What the hell is that even supposed to mean? A companion? Am I a lonely vampire widow now? Do I get to pick from a catalog of undead emotional support humans?"

Damien blinked, confused at how fast she’d gone from mildly irritated to a blazing tornado. "I don’t understand why you’re mad," he said carefully, hands raised in surrender. "I just want you to have... support. To help you deal with all that’s going on."

"By ignoring me? By avoiding me?" Luna threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over a decorative candelabra shaped.

Damien winced. "I thought you’d be happy about this."

"Happy?" she laughed incredulously. "You thought I’d be happy that you’ve been hiding in here while I talk to walls and portraits?"

He finally got off the bed, running a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "Luna..."

"You know what?" she interrupted, taking a step back. "Never mind. Just forget it."

"Luna, wait," Damien called, moving toward her. His brows were furrowed. "I... honestly... it’s been hard for me since Kyllian visited. Since I saw the way you were with him. Your smile was... effortless. Like it belonged there. Like he put it there."

Damien continued, quieter now. "And it wasn’t just the smile. It was the way you looked at him. Like you’d known him in another life. Like... like maybe I was a page in your book and he was the whole Chapter."

There it was. The real pain etched into the corners of his mouth. Damien, Prince of the Blood Court was actually jealous. And terrified.

"This is crazy," she said with a half-laugh, stepping closer. "But I’m mad because... well... because I miss you. I miss the way you tend to be funny without even trying. And I miss the way your hard exterior melts when you look at me, like you forget you’re supposed to be cold and distant. And the way you think I don’t notice when you’re actively trying to seduce me. yes, I know. The leaning on doorframes, the shirtless strolls. I took my marriage class seriously, okay?"

Damien was stunned. "There was a class?"

Luna groaned, flopping onto the armchair. "Ugh. Yes. Don’t even get me started on the details. It was three days of awkward lectures, and uncomfortable diagrams." She covered her face with both hands. "I almost killed my instructor on the second day. By the third day, I was actively fantasizing about being hit by a car just to escape it."

Damien chuckled, deeply amused. "I can just see it."

She gave him a glare that lacked any real heat. "The instructor used a banana to demonstrate giving oral sex."

He laughed, really laughed, the sound echoing in the chamber. "Okay... how about this?" he said, straightening and offering a hand to her. "You’ve been cooped up in this gloomy castle for too long. Come with me today. Shadow me at the Royal Empire. Watch me pretend to be a dignified prince. And afterward...dinner. A real date... With food."

Luna looked at his hand, then at his eyes, and smiled. "Okay," she said, slipping her hand into his. "I’d like that."

*****

King Magnus felt the familiar warmth of the setting sun against the drapes as he stepped into their chamber. He immediately paused at the sight of Queen Ravena perched at the edge of their enormous four-poster bed, her royal posture replaced by a nervous slouch. She was twisting her fingers together.

His brow furrowed. "Are you still worried about Luna?" he asked gently, pulling his shirt over his head. "You don’t have to worry, my precious. She will be back. She will marry Kyllian. Everything will fall into place."

Ravena didn’t respond right away. That, more than anything, sent alarm bells ringing in his chest.

"I have to talk to you, Magnus," she said finally.

Magnus froze mid-movement. "Oh... oh, that doesn’t sound good," he said, trying to keep it light. He lowered himself to the bed beside her.

She took a breath. Then another. Then let out a sigh that sounded like it had been aging inside her for years. "I think all that’s happening is my fault."

He turned to her, alarmed. "Hey, hey, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault. We can’t question the Moon Goddess’s decisions. We just have to handle it the best way we can. Luna’s strong. So are you." He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers.

Ravena stared at their hands. It was a lovely, warm touch. Steadying. Her king was a warrior, a leader, and above all, her partner in all things.

"Listen to me, Magnus," Ravena said.

"I’m listening," Magnus replied softly, but he could already feel the storm brewing in the space between them. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, gone from warm and familiar to charged, electric. His hands tightened slightly in his lap as he prepared himself for the unraveling.

"When we couldn’t have a child all those years ago...when the court questioned the continuity of your lineage. The throne was being threatened. I was becoming the laughingstock of the entire kingdom," Ravena said, her voice tight with the strain of old pain. "I sought for help."

Magnus’s brows furrowed. "What do you mean sought for help?" he asked, his voice still gentle, but with an edge beginning to creep in.

She looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling like they belonged to someone else...a desperate woman from years ago, wearing a heavy crown and a hollow smile. "I visited... Morvarkar."

Magnus shot off the bed so fast the mattress groaned in protest. His shirtless chest heaved with rage, disbelief written in every trembling muscle. "You... you what? How...Ravena, have you lost your damn mind? Morvarkar?! That demented death wizard?"