The Vampire's Luna
Chapter 195: Won’t Be Long Now

Chapter 195: Won’t Be Long Now

"Won’t be long now, Your Majesties," Thessa said excitedly, her hands gently pressing one last time on Luna’s slightly distended belly.

"How?" Damien asked.

"Everything about this child we learn as we go," Thessa replied. "But from what I see, it’s not long anymore. A month, maybe two."

She smiled at Luna before she turned to pack up her tools.

Damien leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Luna’s forehead, letting his lips linger for a second longer than necessary.

"I’ll check in on you later at the Royal Empire. I have some pending tasks to get to," Luna said as she sat up straighter, brushing her curls away from her face, her tone trying to be light.

Damien paused, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "The Queen’s office should be ready by now, but are you sure you’re up to resuming work? Or do you want to wait until the child is born?"

"And drive myself crazy with boredom? No thank you," Luna said with a roll of her eyes, though her lips curled into a smile.

She pushed off the bed with more strength than she felt, her fingers brushing his sleeve. "Come on, go. You cannot be late on your first day as king."

"True..." Damien chuckled and leaned down once more, kissing her forehead again. His lips were warm, and his breath fanned against her skin as he whispered, "Take care, love."

Luna watched as he walked out of the bedroom.

She stared at his back until the door clicked softly behind him.

And then, she jumped out of bed.

Her bare feet hit the cool marble floor, her nightgown fluttering around her legs. The moment she was alone, all pretense fell away. Her body was electric with urgency, her mind racing faster than her heart could keep up.

"Your Majesty!" Doctor Thessa cried out, her voice high and full of alarm as Luna nearly tripped over the hem of her robe in her haste.

Luna steadied herself, shooting the doctor a brief, apologetic smile. "I’m sorry. I’m fine. I will be careful," she muttered quickly, already pulling out a dress from the wardrobe. She threw it on in a rush, her movements filled with jittery energy, her feet barely touching the ground as she bounced in place, zipping the back herself.

Thessa placed a hand over her heart, visibly unsettled. "Your Majesty. Please," she said, stepping closer. "Whatever it is, I can help you with it, instead of you jumping all over the place like this."

"Hope, Thessa," she said. "Hope has me this way. You won’t understand."

Thessa then stepped back in silence.

And then, Luna was gone, her footsteps light yet determined as she rushed out.

*****

Luna moved swiftly toward the house Luciver had gifted her. It had been a token of protection, a sanctuary for her. And now, it housed a complication, a situationship.

At the entrance, she spotted two guards standing straight-backed.

She gave them a nod, and they both bowed deeply as she entered without a word.

Talon was waiting for her in the hall, as if he had sensed her arrival the moment she crossed the threshold.

Together, without speaking, they made their way to the sitting room.

"Your Majesty," Talon said, pausing beside her. "Why does this woman believe you are going to kill her?"

"She trembled the entire time we brought her here."

Luna raised a brow at Talon, but her expression remained carefully neutral. "I will tell you sometime soon," she said, "but something tells me if I tell you now, Kyllian will get news of it before nightfall."

Talon let out a small breath, giving a half-smile of concession. "Point taken." He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze lowering briefly in guilt. "She’s in the room opposite mine. Crying her eyes out."

Luna’s shoulders squared slightly. Her spine straightened, her chin tilted upward by a degree. The queen was slipping into place.

Luna turned and made her way toward the far room.

She reached the door, paused briefly, then opened it.

On the edge of the bed sat the girl—Isolde. Her posture was small, her hands clenched around a bit of fabric in her lap, as if she was trying to hold herself together by will alone.

Luna stepped in.

She stood tall, her presence instantly changing the air in the room. She commanded the space. Towering over the girl, she radiated quiet power.

Isolde looked up, startled then dropped into a curt, practiced bow. Her voice trembled. "Your Majesty."

Luna’s gaze was sharp, assessing, but her expression didn’t shift. "Stand up," she commanded.

Isolde obeyed with shaking limbs, wiping hastily at her cheeks as she rose to her full height. She was lovely, in a soft, unassuming way. Delicate features, long dark lashes still wet with tears, her hair a mess from stress. But there was strength too—Luna could see it in her eyes. That spark of survival.

Luna let her gaze travel up and down the girl thoroughly—cataloguing every detail. Her height. Her posture. The shape of her jaw, the tremble of her mouth. Luna was measuring more than beauty—she was measuring resolve. How threatening she could prove to be. Or how innocent she also could be.

"Your Majesty, please..." Isolde whispered, barely able to hold Luna’s gaze.

Luna raised a hand, silencing her without a word.

"You will stay in this wing for now," she said. "Talon will find you something to do around here."

Her words were not unkind, but they were not soft either. They were the words of a queen balancing her heart and her crown.

"Your allegiance will be to the king," Luna continued, stepping forward slightly, "and the king only. You will not see him, you will not look at him, you will not look for him."

Isolde’s eyes widened faintly at that, heartbreak already forming?

Every word Luna spoke was a blade she had to forge and wield. She didn’t hate this girl. No—what she hated was the twist of fate that had forced this situation upon all of them.

(How long do you think it will take Damien to find out Isolde is in the palace?)