The Vampire's Luna -
Chapter 147: Bryson Tiller - I’m Sorry
Chapter 147: Bryson Tiller - I’m Sorry
"I’m sorry," she whispered again, pulling back to look up at him. "I just couldn’t let him go without seeing him."
"I know." Damien reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "And if it were my father... I’d do the same."
"Good," she smiled sadly. "Because next time I sneak off, I expect understanding, not yelling."
"Come on. Let’s get some sleep. We have to make the announcement in the morning and plan a wedding," Damien said, stretching out his hand to her.
Luna groaned. "Oh goddess, the torture. Do I have to do the planning?"
Damien chuckled. "Well, your mother did give the wedding planners her idea. They merely have to bring it to life."
"Thank heavens," she mumbled.
Damien grinned. "You’re beautiful when you whine."
Luna rolled her eyes with a smile as they headed inside.
*****
Gabriel waited at the entrance of the royal clinic, his arms folded behind his back. He needed answers, not speculation. He needed proof that Seliora’s pregnancy was not of royal lineage.
This obsession had kept him up at night. The possibility that Damien’s child could threaten his long-anticipated claim to the throne gnawed at his composure.
Finally, the clinic doors slid open with a hiss, and Doctor Mira stepped out, her hair pulled into a tight bun.
"Doctor Mira?" Gabriel called out.
Mira turned. "Your grace!" she stammered, visibly stunned before dipping into a quick, nervous bow.
"You and I need to have a conversation," Gabriel said, already stepping forward.
"Yes, your grace. Shall we go back into my office?" Mira offered, her professional tone recovering quickly, though the twitch in her jaw betrayed her nerves.
"No," he said coolly, cutting her off with a glance. "Take a ride with me."
The way he said it was a command. Mira hesitated for half a breath, weighing her options—or rather, weighing the consequences of refusal.
"As you wish," she murmured.
Gabriel gestured smoothly to his car parked at the curb. His driver was already standing by the rear door, holding it open with military precision. Gabriel didn’t wait to see if she followed—he simply walked ahead, every stride calm and composed.
Mira exhaled, cast a glance behind her as though the clinic might leap forward to save her, then followed him.
The moment she slid into the backseat, she knew—this wasn’t just a casual chat. This was an interrogation.
As the car pulled off with a quiet purr, Gabriel leaned slightly toward her, smile thin, eyes cold.
"Tell me, Doctor," he said slowly, "how well do you know the genetic markers of a royal heir?"
Mira swallowed hard. "Well enough to know when something doesn’t add up..."
Gabriel’s smile widened, his fingers tapping the armrest. "Good."
Gabriel used his silence. The quiet in the car was suffocating. Mira shifted in her seat, hyper-aware of every creak in the leather, every passing lamp outside. The hum of the tires against the road was the only sign that time hadn’t stopped altogether.
"Your grace?" she finally broke the silence. Her fingers were icy. Her gut told her what this meeting was about—but she prayed she was wrong. Oh goddess, let her be wrong.
Gabriel turned his head slowly, deliberately, the way one might turn toward a small, twitching insect on their sleeve. His gaze was cold, unreadable. And that smile could have frozen rivers.
"Are you afraid of something, Doctor Mira?" Gabriel asked.
"No... I just...have I done something wrong?" she replied quickly.
"I will know that at the end of our conversation," Gabriel said, finally leaning back against the seat.
"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep the panic from showing on her face. It was a failing effort.
"I don’t know yet," Gabriel replied with chilling casualness, adjusting the cuff of his coat. "If you choose the easy way, we will go to the royal palace. If you choose the hard way, we will go to my house... where I have various torture devices."
Mira’s eyes widened, her mouth fell open slightly, and she let out a strangled sound. "Lord Gabriel... I haven’t done anything wrong."
"I will be the judge of that," he said smoothly, still not raising his voice. "Then maybe I will defend you to the throne. As long as you answer my questions without issues."
He turned to look out the window again, as though he were simply pondering the weather. Mira nodded quickly.
If she ever got out of this, Mira swore on the goddess herself she would hand in her resignation first thing tomorrow morning. Or tonight. Or now. She didn’t have the heart for the royal drama that was beginning to threaten her very soul.
"Tell me, Seliora’s pregnancy. Is it a royal heir?" Gabriel asked. There was no emotion in his tone. His eyes, dark and ancient, bore into her with predatory calm.
"Your grace. I swear...I didn’t have anything to do with any of this," Mira begged. Her eyes darted to the tinted windows of the luxury car, as though escape might lie on the other side of the glass. But no. There was only black leather, locked doors, and Gabriel’s suffocating presence.
"Answer the question!" he snapped, and the calm veneer shattered. Mira jumped, her breath catching in her throat. That tone stripped the air of any remaining illusion that this was a polite conversation.
"It is complicated." She whispered the words, hoping ambiguity might buy her a few extra minutes of breath.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed just slightly. "So it is a royal baby?"
There was no hiding anymore. Mira broke. The dam burst. She was sobbing now, chest heaving. She knew Lord Gabriel’s reputation, rumors that wrapped around him. Every one of those rumors played in her mind now.
She also knew that with a single sentence, she was about to hand him the blade he needed to slit the throne’s throat. Everything Seliora had schemed, everything the court believed.
"There is no baby, your grace." Mira confessed, choking on the words.
We are on Golden Ranking 79. Can we get it to 60 and get 3 Chapters tomorrow.
(Jennifer Kellum and Jonal Neufeld: I see your effort in raising the stats. thank you.)
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