The Vampire's Luna
Chapter 143: Billy Joel - Just The Way You Are

Chapter 143: Billy Joel - Just The Way You Are

He clutched her face again. "I love you so much."

Luna leaned into his chest, and he folded her into his arms, resting his chin on her head.

"Morvakar says there’s a 75% chance our child will be a Trueblood," Luna said quietly.

"I don’t care. I don’t care, my moonlight. We’re going to have a child—that’s all that matters." He cupped her face and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, as if sealing his promise with the gentlest part of himself. "Boy or girl, fangs or fur, it’ll be perfect."

Before either of them could speak again, a sudden knock interrupted the moment.

"Are you decent?" Morvakar’s voice echoed through the thick door.

"Come in," Damien replied with a resigned sigh.

Morvakar entered. He gave the couple a once-over, noting the way Luna clung to Damien, and the subtle shine in Damien’s eyes that hadn’t been there an hour ago.

"Well, look at that," Damien said dryly. "We managed to teach you some manners."

"Idiot," Morvakar muttered affectionately.

"Someone is approaching," he added, suddenly all business.

Both Luna and Damien immediately perked up. They hurried to the parlour and pressed themselves against the cold stone wall beside the heavily warded window. Peering through the shimmering cloaking barrier, they spotted a lone figure wandering through the forest clearing.

Talon held a map in his hand, turning it over again and again, occasionally looking up.

"He can’t see the castle," Damien observed, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Looks like your spell works, old man."

Morvakar scoffed. "Was there ever any doubt? Now the real question—friendly or foe?"

"I don’t know," Damien admitted, narrowing his eyes. "But the map in his hand carries Blood City’s seal. It’s one of ours."

Damien turned to Morvakar. "Can you lower the wards for me to step through?"

Luna quickly grabbed Damien’s wrist, her grip tighter than she realized. "It might be a trap," she whispered.

Damien turned to her, offering a crooked, half-smirk. "I’ll be fine," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I have you and old sorcerer here watching my back."

Morvakar, who had been leaning dramatically against the wall with his arms crossed scoffed. "You enjoy pushing my buttons, don’t you?" f.re(e) w.e(b)nov el.c.om

"Small price to pay for cursing me. Allow me some fun," Damien shot back.

Luna rolled her eyes. "You’re enjoying this far too much."

Damien grinned. "Maybe."

"Take off the cover," he said to Morvakar, nodding toward the cloaking spell.

With a flick of his wrist, Morvakar muttered an incantation under his breath. The air around the castle shimmered, then evaporated in glistening threads of light. The ancient stones of the castle walls revealed themselves once more, looming and solid.

Down in the clearing, Talon staggered back a half-step, his mouth slightly agape. Clearly, he had not been expecting the grand reveal.

Damien descended the steps of the castle.

Talon dropped into a bow. "Your Highness," he said formally. "Queen Ravena has charged me with seeing your safe return to the Blood City."

Damien raised a brow. "And your king?"

"He is standing down for now until King Magnus is buried," Talon replied solemnly.

Damien exhaled slowly, his shoulders tightening. The death of Magnus still sat like a stone in his gut, wrapped in guilt and regret. "Well," he muttered, turning slightly, eyes narrowing, "I look forward to that war."

Then he turned back toward the castle. "I’m going to get my mate."

*****

Damien and Luna arrived in Blood City well past midnight. It was for the best, really. Had anyone seen them—clothes torn, faces drawn with exhaustion, they would’ve assumed they crawled straight out of a battle. And they wouldn’t have been wrong.

The car stopped in front of Luna’s private residence. Damien helped her out, his hand at the small of her back, and she leaned into him ever so slightly.

She walked ahead of him and disappeared into the bathroom. The door clicked shut. He heard the water running.

Inside, Luna stood under the steady stream of water, her hands against the tiled wall, head bowed. The droplets soaked her hair and trailed down her body, but she didn’t move.

She needed to wash the war off her—but no matter how hard the water fell, it couldn’t cleanse what was festering inside.

Her mind drifted: the moment she saw her father’s lifeless body. Gone. Just like that. She hadn’t even said goodbye.

She pressed her forehead against the wall, willing herself to be strong.

Strong like her father had been.

Strong like the princess she was supposed to be.

Damien stepped into the bathroom minutes later. He didn’t say a word as he undressed. His torn shirt stuck to his skin from the dried sweat, but he peeled it off, wincing slightly at the stiffness in his back. He could still feel the slash Kyllian had given him, though Morvakar had stitched him up neatly.

He pulled the glass door open and stepped into the shower. freew\ebno\vel..(c)om

Damien stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, his cheek brushing her wet hair, which clung to her shoulders.

Her naked body fit perfectly against his.

She was locked in. Her grief buried somewhere deep under layers of strength and denial.

"Let it out, my moonlight," he whispered into her ear. "You need to grieve."

"No. Letting it out means believing it."

He tightened his arms around her. "He was a great king. Most of all, he was an amazing father. You were the apple of his eyes. And even though sometimes it felt like he chose to protect the throne first, he was always thinking about what was best for you."

The tears came then, sudden and furious, mixing with the water and sliding down her cheeks.

"Damn it," she sobbed.

Damien turned her around, holding her face in his hands, wiping tears that were already being replaced by more. "You were the one thing in this world he was never willing to lose."

As Damien spoke, Luna kept crying in his arms. She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck as if letting go would make everything collapse.

Damien said nothing more. He just stood there holding her. His heart ached watching her break.

Gently, Damien reached past her and turned off the water. Without saying a word, he scooped her up into his arms. He carried her into the bedroom.

He laid her down carefully on the bed, smoothing her damp hair from her face. He was about to go and grab something to wear but her fingers shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising force.

"Don’t leave me, please," she whispered.

Damien climbed into the bed beside her, pulling the covers over both of them. The sheets were cool against their damp skin, but her body was warmer than fire. He wrapped himself around her, one leg thrown over hers, his arms encircling her middle. She pressed into him instantly, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"It’s going to be okay," he murmured, stroking her hair gently. "You’re going to be fine."

"Please don’t leave me. You cannot leave me." She clutched his face now, cupping his cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and red but blazing with emotion, her lips trembling.

"I am staying right here," he promised. But she shook her head, her tears returning with fresh urgency. f|ree(w)ebn\o.vel.com

"No," she whispered, panic surging in her voice. "You cannot die too, Damien. Please."

It was one thing to talk about dying. It was another to realize that the thought of his death haunted her every breath.

"Baby," he said softly, kissing her forehead, then the tip of her nose. "I’d do anything to stay with you and our child. Except that."

He held her gaze as he said it, letting her see the truth in his eyes. The pain. The reality.

"Please," she whispered again, this time to the goddess. "Please, goddess, please. I’m begging you, Damien."

She pulled his face closer until their foreheads were pressed together. "Please don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me."

He exhaled shakily, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "I’m not going anywhere tonight," he whispered. "You’ve got me. All of me."

"But what about tomorrow?" she asked through tears. "And the day after that? What if I wake up and you’re just... gone?"

He didn’t have an answer. So he kissed her, letting his lips say what his words couldn’t. That he loved her. That he didn’t want to leave. That every second he had left belonged to her.

At first, the kiss was meant to distract her—just a gentle, grounding moment to soothe the pain that refused to let her go. Luna latched on to him with her whole body, clinging to him.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her lips moving feverishly against his. It was a kiss born of grief.

The way she was moving against him, rubbing her heat against his length was driving him insane. His head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as a low growl rumbled from his chest.