The Vampire's Luna -
Chapter 41: Sade - Smooth Operator
Chapter 41: Sade - Smooth Operator
"Of course I do," Damien muttered, glancing sideways at Luna who was staring up at the building. He took a deep breath. "Alright, give me the rundown."
"Three blood contracts to review. Tax audit from the Western province. Then, a budget review for the back-boundary fortification."
"And the council meeting?"
"Three hours from now."
Damien turned to Luna. "Still want to shadow me?"
Luna raised a brow. "Are you kidding? This is exciting!"
Damien grinned, the weight of responsibility briefly lightened. "Alright then, Ms. Fashionably Distracting...Shall we?"
"One more thing, Your Highness," Selene said crisply.
Damien halted mid-step and exhaled heavily. He turned, one brow arched in exasperated dread. "What now?"
"Sage Veyron sent a message. He requests your presence later today."
Damien froze. The words hit him with force. Luna, standing at his side, immediately noticed the shift. She didn’t know who Veyron was, but the name had clearly cast a shadow.
He turned to her, almost involuntarily, as though to memorize her; her features, her warmth. His gaze lingered, just a heartbeat too long.
He nodded, curtly, at Selene, who was now eyeing Luna with barely hidden curiosity.
Without another word, Damien pushed through the heavy double doors into the Royal Empire building. Luna followed, trailing just a few steps behind, her eyes darting around like a curious tourist, drinking in every corner.
The space was a marvel. Vampires moved like liquid shadows, fast and elegant, all dressed in black or deep reds. The hallways glowed softly. There was a quiet hum of energy everywhere.
Things ran very differently here.
In her world, the werewolf territories were shaped like puzzle pieces that snapped together—one alpha per region, with all answering to the Alpha King. Everything was intimate and tribal. Packs relied on emotional bonds and instinct. They needed each other like lungs needed air.
But here?
This was politics at the speed of thought. Calculated, cold, elegant. This was the world Damien belonged to. And it terrified her just a little.
They stepped into Damien’s office, a sleek, modern space with minimal décor except for a massive portrait of his father, King Lucivar Dragos, looming above a fireplace.
Damien dropped into the leather seat behind his desk. Luna plopped herself into the chair across from him, letting her arms rest on the armrest.
Selene hovered beside them.
"I’m sure I can help," Luna offered, sitting up straighter and glancing between the two of them. "What can I do?"
Selene glanced at the prince first, sharp and efficient as always but even she paused just briefly, her cool composure giving way to curiosity. The prince gave her a subtle nod.
Selene turned to Luna, her tone clipped. "What can you do?"
Luna straightened her back and lifted her chin a fraction, ready to impress. "I’m quite good at math," she said confidently. "I handle the accounts back in my kingdom. I also balance the treasury ledgers, allocate food resources by pack ranking."
Selene blinked. "I will have the tax records sent up," she said. With a polite nod, she turned on her heel and left the office.
Luna exhaled and turned to Damien with a grin.
"This is really nice, Damien. I see a new side of you every day," she said, looking around his workspace with wide eyes. "How can you manage something as impressive as this? I mean, it’s sleek, intimidating, efficient. You?"
Damien laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I’d be lying if I said I did it singlehandedly. We have ministers for every section; finance, security, blood imports, territory defense. I mostly liaise with them, set priorities, ensure everything moves forward. I guide, they execute. Sometimes they surprise me with brilliant ideas, and sometimes...well, sometimes I have to remind them who exactly signs their paychecks."
Luna nodded thoughtfully, her fingers brushing the edge of his desk. "So, it’s kind of like having alphas, but with us it’s by pack. You’re the central command, but the packs; ministries in your case have their own autonomy."
"Exactly," Damien said, slightly in awe. "You really do got the brains to go with that beauty. That’s... weirdly hot."
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Keep your fangs in your mouth, Prince Charming."
Minutes later, the door opened and a vampire staffer arrived, arms burdened with leather-bound tax record ledgers and scrolls. Luna eagerly set them on the desk and dove in. She muttered numbers under her breath, cross-checked documents, and scribbled notes with impressive speed.
Damien tried to focus on his own pile of documents; fortification plans, blood contract drafts, but his eyes kept drifting.
He watched the way her brow furrowed in concentration, how the tip of her tongue poked out ever so slightly when she was calculating. She bit her bottom lip at one point; just a quick nip and his brain absolutely derailed. The lip bite. It was a simple, innocent gesture, but to Damien it might as well have been a declaration of war.
A very sexy war.
He sighed and shifted in his seat, utterly betrayed by his own imagination. He focused on her fingers next; graceful and competent. The things he could make her do with those fingers. She looked so natural here, like she belonged in this world.
Gods, I am in trouble, Damien thought, his eyes drifting from her hands to her mouth again. I want to be that pen. I want to be that paper.
"Stop staring at me like that," Luna said, not even glancing up.
"What? I wasn’t staring."
"You were practically undressing me with your eyes. If your eyes had hands, I’d be naked right now."
Damien smirked, fully abandoning any pretense of professionalism. "That is...a graphic but accurate depiction."
That dress was absolutely sinful. Damien felt like he needed to douse himself in holy water until the bulge in his pants subsided. Luna’s soft, sun-kissed skin; so warm and alive was the complete antithesis of his own eternally chilled body.
At this rate, he wasn’t going to get any work done. He turned his chair away from her, swiveling dramatically until all he had was the city skyline to look at instead of the maddening curve of her neck and the dip of her cleavage. The city stretched before him; polished and busy but even the sprawling kingdom couldn’t hold his attention for long. His thoughts circled back to Sage Veyron’s message.
If the Sage had called for him this soon after Damien’s visit, then it was bad.
Luna was here, smiling, softly humming as she worked. He didn’t want to sour the moment by telling her. He knew she was trying to be strong and not think of everything going on; the confusion of dual mating bonds and what it meant for her. She deserved peace; just a little sliver of it. So, he made a decision.
He’d move the visit.
Just a few hours of delay. Surely the world wouldn’t end by then.
Hopefully.
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