The Vampire's Luna
Chapter 75: John Mayer - Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

Chapter 75: John Mayer - Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

She pressed herself to him. With each stolen breath, her cheeks bloomed with color again. It was a miracle they could both feel in the most primal way.

"Damien..." she moaned, his name slipping from her lips.

That sound nearly undid him.

He felt giddy. His fangs throbbed in his gums, and it took every ounce of royal decorum he possessed not to slam his hand against the wall!

"I’m doing the right thing," he told himself silently, even as instinct and love tangled together in a chaotic, beautiful mess. "This is the right decision."

He pulled back just a fraction, needing to see her eyes. Needing to ground himself in the only truth that mattered.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"With my life," she whispered.

Damien’s heart cracked open. Gods, she could kill him with words like that. It was unfair, really, how she wielded trust like a blade and made him want to be pierced by it.

But she didn’t give him time to wallow in sentimentality. Luna pulled him back to her, hands slipping into his hair, anchoring him in the kiss as though terrified he might evaporate if she let go. She arched into him, her body moving with purpose now, driven by lust. She wanted to live—and she wanted him to be the reason.

He kissed her throat, lips soft against the curve where her pulse fluttered again. But it wasn’t enough—not for her. free.w e bn.ov(e)l(.)com

She took his hand and guided it between her thighs, where fire met fingertips and proved that death was very much being evicted.

He hissed through his teeth. She was soaked.

The scent hit him like a sucker punch. Hours of suffering under the burden of her heat had turned her into a furnace, and now the sheets beneath her bore silent witness to just how much she’d endured—and how badly she wanted him to finish what nature had started.

His brain tried to process dignity and decorum, but they were quickly drop-kicked out of the room by primal instinct and the part of him that was 1,000% vampire and 1,000% hers.

Mine, his mind snarled.

"Fuck..." he growled silently.

His fangs dropped without ceremony.

And in the tender hush between love and madness, he found her pulse again, kissed the spot once then bit.

Luna arched, a gasp caught between pleasure and pain. His fangs slid in deep and sure.

She clung to him, her breath ragged, her nails digging into his back.

As her blood flooded into his mouth, peace passed between them. Her essence was both poison and cure, chaos and calm, and Damien drank her in.

The mark was made.

And Damien, still nestled against her throat, whispered against her skin, "I love you. Even if it kills me."

Luna’s body sang in the aftermath of Damien’s bite. Her back arched, a deep moan slipping from her lips as her fingers clawed at the sheets. The heat that had plagued her was suddenly gone, replaced with a flood of strength, light, and strange, euphoric clarity. For a moment, she thought she was floating until she saw Damien’s face, inches from hers, fangs receding.

And then reality struck.

Her eyes widened, green irises glowing with disbelief. Her heart hammered in her chest.

"What have you done?" she rasped. She sat up with a jolt, nearly headbutting him.

Damien’s smile faltered. "I saved you."

"You marked me." Her hand flew to the tender place on her neck where the bite still throbbed, blood-magic still sizzling. "You actually marked me."

"I had no choice," Damien said calmly, though his heart was slamming against his ribs. "You were dying, Luna. That mark keeps you alive."

"I trusted you!" she hissed, pushing herself off the bed and nearly toppling.

"You’re welcome, by the way," he muttered, brushing off his shirt.

"Oh my goddess..." she groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. "You arrogant idiot."

*****

Kyllian groaned awake, lying at an awkward angle on a settee. His tongue felt like it had been replaced with a sock, and his mind was doing the mental equivalent of buffering.

"What the hell happened?" he muttered, rubbing at his temples. The last clear image in his mind was of Morvakar’s smug face—and then... nothing.

He staggered upright, disoriented and half-ready to punch someone. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair stuck up at odd angles, and his pride felt like it had been drop-kicked down a flight of marble stairs.

He stepped out into the corridor and spotted Queen Ravena gliding past.

"Where’s Damien?" he barked, startling her into a small jump.

"He is here. He brought you back asleep," Ravena said softly. She looked at Kyllian as if he were made of glass. "Said Morvakar cast some kind of spell on you."

"Son of a bitch," he growled, running a hand through his hair as if it would help unscramble the fog of confusion spinning in his skull. He didn’t know whether he wanted to punch Morvakar in the face or personally toss him into a bottomless pit. Probably both. Maybe in that order. "How is Luna?" fr\(e)ew(e)b.(n)o (v)(e)l.com

"She will be fine. Damien found a way," Ravena answered, eyes flickering to the side, refusing to hold his gaze for more than a second. She braced herself. "There’s something you need to know."

Kyllian narrowed his eyes. "What way?"

"He didn’t say," she replied quickly. "But Kyllian... your bond with her has to be severed. I am sorry."

Kyllian staggered as though someone had physically shoved him, the air knocked out of his lungs. Severed. The word echoed in his skull. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared. "You’re not sorry," he said quietly, almost a whisper, but the venom was there. "You would make any deal to keep her alive."

She didn’t deny it.

His feet moved before he realized he’d even made the decision. His heart was the engine now, propelling him forward, chasing something he feared he had already lost.

"Kyllian..." Ravena called behind him. But he didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His throat was tight with grief, fury, dread.

The hallway that led to Luna’s chambers seemed longer than usual. Time stretched, mocked him. His boots thudded softly on the floor, a sound far too calm for the storm raging inside him. And then he stopped.

Her scent. It was there but fading. It was tempered. Shifted. Changed.

Damien had done something. And it had worked.

The wolf inside him howled in protest.

He raised a trembling fist and knocked . He turned the knob slowly, heart pounding against his ribs. The door creaked open.

And then...

The scene before him hit like a thunderclap.

Luna stood trembling from fury. Her neck was still slick with blood, her fingers pressed against the twin punctures Damien had left behind. The mark throbbed from the searing, electric connection it had cemented. Her breathing came in fast, shallow bursts. She was glowing, alive, healed but enraged.

"You marked me," she hissed, eyes wild. "You absolute bastard. You marked me without my consent!"

Before Damien could respond with his usual devil-may-care smirk, a low growl rolled through the room. Kyllian’s eyes had gone golden, pupils dilated to razor-thin slits. His fists clenched, and the wolf within him screamed for blood.

"You marked her?!" Kyllian thundered.

Damien sighed, already bored with the theatrics. "I did what I had to do," he said, examining a hangnail. "While you took the nap of the century. Seriously, Sleeping Beauty had more stamina."

It was the wrong thing to say.

Kyllian launched. His fist connected with Damien’s jaw in a move so swift and fierce it echoed. The prince’s head snapped sideways. Kyllian didn’t wait for a reaction—he wanted more. More violence. More retribution. More of his pride back.

But Damien wasn’t just any vampire. He was the vampire prince.

Slowly, Damien turned his head back, licking the blood off his lip. "Oh. So we’re doing this now?"

Then, with lightning speed, he grabbed Kyllian by the throat and hurled him across the room as though he were no more than a particularly annoying throw pillow. Kyllian’s body blasted through the door with a deafening crack, splinters flying. He skidded down the hallway, groaning, before slamming against the far wall with a grunt.

Damien adjusted his cufflink casually.

But Kyllian wasn’t done.

With a snarl, his bones cracked and shifted, muscles bulging, fur ripping through skin as he morphed into his massive wolf form. His golden eyes locked on Damien. fre/ew.ebnovel.c om

Damien rolled his shoulders and stepped into the hallway, fangs descending. "Let’s dance, Pup."

Kyllian leapt, claws extended. They collided mid-air, teeth and claws clashing with muscle. Damien grunted as Kyllian’s weight knocked him back. The vampire hit the ground hard, skidding into a pillar that cracked ominously.

But Damien’s smirk didn’t fade.

In a blur, Damien twisted, locking his legs around Kyllian’s waist and flipping the wolf over with unnatural strength. Kyllian landed with a whomp on his back. Damien followed through with a brutal, glowing punch to the ribs, an explosion of energy that made the walls shake and Kyllian yelp.