h4Chapter 290: Talk To Him/h4

    "It’s simple really. Talk to him. Tell him he will get to see her soon." Morvakar shrugged as if the problem of an inconsble heir were no bigger than spilled wine on a tablecloth.

    Luna’s head whipped down toward Magnus instantly, her instincts ring brighter than reason. She cradled her son closer, her lips brushing his fine dark curls as her voice turned tender. "Hey sweetie. I know how you feel. But mummy and daddy will bring you..."

    "Not you, Your Highness." Morvakar’s interruption cut through the room. His eyes flicked away from Luna andnded on Mabel. The woman sat stiffly at the edge of the bed, her rounded belly rising under the simple fabric of her battered gown, her entire posture radiating confusion.

    Mabel’s wide eyes darted around the room, from Luna’s glowing stare to Damien’s dark intensity, then up to Kyllian, who loomed nearby. She was the subject of their collective scrutiny, and it was more attention than she’d ever drawn in her entire existence. Her throat worked nervously, and her hands protectively hovered over her belly.

    "Her?" Luna said. Her face hardened as she turned fully toward Morvakar. "You mean give her my baby?" Every fiber of her being screamed against it.

    Morvakar frowned. "What is she going to do with the child when a vampire king, an alpha king, and a queen are in the same room? Do you think she could so much as sneeze wrong without being incinerated?"

    Luna’s throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her hands trembled as she slowly, reluctantly handed Magnus over, her heart pounding.

    Mabel’s hands received the child. She looked down at him with awe, her lips parting in disbelief. Her arms were unsure.

    "You are the bridge between your child and the outside world until the child is born," Morvakar urged. His gaze locked on her belly, then flicked back to the infant in her arms. "Talk to him. Show him she is near."

    And as Mabel’s lips parted, trembling on the edge of speech, the room itself seemed to hold its breath.

    "Uh...hi. Ah... I’m Mabel. Your mate doesn’t have a name yet. We still have weeks to go but I am sure she will be impressed to be mated to you."

    Her lips trembled with every word. She wasn’t used to speeches, wasn’t used to being noticed at all—just a servant, a womb chosen by fate to bear what no mortal woman should carry. Yet here she was, with the infant prince blinking up at her as if her awkward, fumbling reassurance held the weight of truth. "So, how about you go with your parents and you can see her as soon as she is born?" Mabel finished, cheeks burning as if her child herself mocked her clumsy attempt.

    With uncertainty, she handed the child back to Luna. The queen’s arms closed around her son. Luna turned. The room held its breath—literally, no one dared exhale—as they waited for the inevitable wail, that piercing sound that would signal the bond’s demand, the refusal of separation. But no cry came. Only the fading rhythm of Luna’s footsteps drifting into the corridors of the castle.

    " Oh, thank the goddess." Damien dragged a hand over his face, shoulders sagging in relief. His body loosened.

    Kyllian folded his arms. "Now to the real question. Are we just going to ignore the fact that the Moon goddess—our goddess—is going to be born very soon?" Gods did not belong in flesh. Gods demanded worship. And yet here she was, tangled in the womb of a trembling girl who had never once asked for her life to be divine property.

    Morvakar gave a rueful smile. His eyes glinted with the guilt of a man who had tampered with forces no mortal—or immortal—should touch. "I messed with the alignment of the skies," he admitted. "The natural order bent beneath me. Something must have gone wrong... and she chose a body. Mabel’s child is still in there," he added quickly, his eyes darting to the pale woman who still hugged herself. "Just consumed by the spirit of the Moon goddess."

    "What does that mean for us werewolves?" Kyllian asked.

    "It means protect her with your life," the sorcerer said tly, as if it were a grocery list. He sounded annoyingly economical for a man who’d just announced the possible arrival of a goddess. "Or find a way to get the Moon Goddess back to where shees from. Because if any harm were toe to her, it spells the end of the werewolf race." Morvakar’s face went quiet.

    Kyllian’s response was volcanic. "Well, you did this. Undo it." He spat the usation. "How are we supposed to protect a goddess walking amongst men? She isn’t even born yet and her mother was nearly killed. What if I hadn’t found her? What... all of us would have just dropped dead and we wouldn’t even know why?"

    Morvakar’s shoulders rose in a small, defeated shrug. "I’m sorry. I cannot." He looked at each of them. "I cannot," he repeated.

    Kyllian did not ept "I cannot" as a final answer. He stepped forward, invading the personal space of a man who treasured his distance. Proximity sharpened Kyllian’s voice. "Get the Moon Goddess back to wherever she is from, or I swear to her, I will rip your head off." Then he whipped to face Damien, eyes burning a furious plea. "Talk to him. You might think this has nothing to do with you but remember your wife is a werewolf too. Whatever happens to us, happens to her."

    Damien’s face, tightened at Kyllian’s appeal.

    "Come on, Morvakar. Let’s talk." Damien ced a hand on the sorcerer’s shoulder, coaxing him away from the tension-charged room. They stepped into the corridor, the heavy door closing behind them. He walked with his usual detached elegance. "What’s going on? It’s unlike you not to rise to a challenge like this. You thrive on things like this."

    (Okay, Guys. Say your goodbyes to Morvakar in this book. His next appearance will be in Book 2 of Vampire’s Luna)