The Vampire's Luna -
Chapter 68: Halestorm - I Am The Fire
Chapter 68: Halestorm - I Am The Fire
Luna gritted her teeth, fighting to stay upright, her vision blurring with effort. Her knees buckled just before Morvakar. She caught herself, barely, on one hand, every nerve screaming. Her other hand tightened around the dagger.
Morvakar loomed above her, eyes glowing with triumph as he uttered the final phrase, "Has eros iauei phlogi kateleustheis." The air shimmered with magic, and Luna was flooded with rage.
With a growl tearing from her throat, she jerked forward and thrust the dagger into his foot. The blade sliced through the leather of his boot as if it were paper, then bit deep into flesh and bone, sizzled like meat on coals. The scream Morvakar let out wasn’t human.
He howled. His body jerked back violently. He stumbled. Magic fizzled around them and he disappeared. Luna collapsed fully now, panting, dizzy but alive.
****
Down in the courtyard, where music still floated through the air, Damien froze. The shriek pierced through the festivities.
The wineglass in his hand shattered into crimson droplets as it hit the floor, forgotten. His head snapped toward the doors Luna had disappeared into. Eyes glowing faintly, he surged forward with all the predatory grace of his kind. Chairs tipped, a table knocked over. Guests gasped.
Kyllian had heard it too. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. For a split second, he hesitated, werewolves couldn’t match a vampire’s speed but then he lunged forward anyway, running. He’d tear through anyone to get to her.
"Something’s wrong," Queen Ravena said, already moving in her heels.
"Luna," Magnus muttered grimly, tossing his wine aside and following them.
Damien rounded the corner like a storm unleashed, skidding to a stop at the sight before him. Luna lay curled on the cold marble floor of the corridor, her breathing shallow and her body trembling.
"Luna!" His heart dropped so fast it probably punched a hole through his gut. Even his stomach joined in on the freefall. He was at her side in a blur, kneeling beside her, panic flickering in his usually composed eyes.
She moaned at his touch, a sound that made his body react in very ungentlemanly ways. She clutched his shirt with trembling fingers, dragging him closer. "Morvakar... he was here," she whispered, her voice laced with arousal.
"What did he want? What did he say?" Damien’s eyes scanned her, looking for visible injuries. But instead of wounds, she writhed with feverish heat against him, her scent rich and maddening.
"He cast a spell." she panted, wriggling under his touch. "Get me to my room, Damien. I am in heat."
That was all he needed to hear.
In one fluid motion, Damien swept her into his arms like she weighed nothing, a blur of dark silk and sweat-slicked limbs. The moment her skin brushed against his, Luna whimpered, her legs curling around him unconsciously.
He bolted down the hallway, faster than sound, his jaw clenched and mind spiraling as he tried not to focus on how good she smelled or the tiny, desperate sounds she made. Behind him, voices rang out, footsteps thundering in the castle. He didn’t stop.
Moments later, Kyllian arrived at the corridor with Ravena and Magnus trailing him. Kyllian’s body halted mid-stride, his pupils dilating instantly as her scent hit him. A heady, sultry cloud of Luna’s heat clung to the air.
"Oh no," he muttered. His brain short-circuited.
His nostrils flared. His eyes fluttered closed as he inhaled deeply. Delicious. Erotic. Every nerve in his body screamed for her. His muscles twitched involuntarily, and he shifted on his feet like a man possessed.
Magnus caught the change instantly. "Kyllian..." he warned.
But Kyllian’s mind had already gone rogue. His alpha instincts had shoved every rational thought aside and screamed one singular command: Find mate. Claim mate. Protect mate.
Kyllian turned and followed the trail with a focused intensity.
"This is bad," Magnus muttered. "Real bad."
"You think?" Ravena hissed, picking up her skirts to follow.
"Kyllian!" King Magnus’s voice boomed down the corridor. It carried the weight of royalty but for a werewolf on the brink of losing control to his mate’s heat, even a king’s command felt like a whisper in a storm.
Kyllian didn’t slow down. His strides were long, tense, driven by instinct, not reason. He could feel her, her scent was practically a siren’s song, wrapping around his nerves, tugging on every string of control he had. She was right there. Right behind that damn door.
"Kyllian!" Magnus roared again, more warning than plea now.
Just as Kyllian’s hand reached for the doorknob, fingers trembling with the need to see her, Damien stepped through the threshold. He shoved Kyllian back with enough force to make the man stumble, heels screeching.
Kyllian’s eyes snapped up, wild, golden, animalistic.
"Stay away, Kyllian," Damien growled, baring his fangs slightly. "Get yourself under control."
Kyllian snarled, low and guttural, and launched forward. His fists clenched, aiming for Damien’s jaw.
Damien planted his feet, body taut, waiting.
Then, just as their collision seemed inevitable, King Magnus stepped in with the poise of a seasoned warrior and the raw strength of a true alpha. He caught Kyllian mid-charge, arms locked around his shoulders, feet digging into the ground. Even as a king, it took every drop of power in him to restrain Kyllian.
"Enough," Magnus said, his voice infused with absolute command. He wasn’t just giving an order, he was invoking the bond of pack, of blood.
Kyllian’s snarl caught in his throat. His body shook with effort as he fought his instincts. The supreme alpha energy from the king seeped into him like a calming current. Slowly, reluctantly, his golden irises dulled, fading back to rich brown. His chest heaved, sweat glistening at his temple.
"He’s right," Magnus continued, eyes locked with him. "You need to walk it off. Now. That’s not a suggestion. That’s an order."
Kyllian stood still for a beat, shoulders heaving, fists still clenched so tightly his knuckles looked bloodless. His eyes flicked to Damien who stood there, cool and collected, his shirt slightly rumpled from Luna’s desperate hands, and his scent thick with her heat.
(Shoutout to Shilpa_Sachdev)
Another week begins, please lets put this book on the ranks once more.
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