The Vampire's Luna-Chapter 321: Inform The Queen
William's eyes widened in shock, the realization dawning too late. Before William could conjure a vanishing spell, before the faintest shimmer of invisibility could blur his form, Damien's hand shot through the haze and into the man's chest. His fingers clenched around a heart that throbbed desperately for a moment before going still.
The light drained from William's eyes almost instantly, leaving nothing but the hollow echo of his life. The body collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud, and Damien watched as the man's soul drifted upward in a thin, glimmering mist, dissolving into the ether, vanishing without trace.
Silence fell over the battlefield. Vampires and wolves alike froze, as if time itself had been startled into stillness. Damien stood over the body, shoulders sagging under the weight of relief, exhaustion. Every fiber of his being hummed with the satisfaction of justice.
His eyes swept across the battlefield to Kyllian, who stood at the rear of his army beside Sage Veyron, both tense and alert even in the wake of the victory. The gratitude in Damien's gaze was honest.
Damien turned to Eryk. "Inform the queen," he said quietly. "We won." He dropped William's heart to the ground.
Damien pushed through the combatants, moving toward Kyllian, whose posture relaxed slightly as he saw the vampire king approaching. When Damien reached him, he let out a deep, steadying sigh, a small release of tension he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Thank you," Damien said simply.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, Damien threw his bloodied arm around Kyllian, pulling him into a fierce, brotherly hug. The gesture was almost shocking in its warmth and raw honesty. "Thank you," he repeated, the hug lingering as a promise of loyalty, of alliance, and of the bond that had been cemented.
"This is weird," Kyllian muttered.
"Shut up," Damien barked. Kyllian laughed then and wrapped his arms around Damien.
Damien then turned to Veyron, clapping the man on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're back," Damien said.
"I'm glad to be back too. But, you know, I can't stay long—the council…" 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶
"Fuck the council," Damien cut him off sharply. "You are staying. I don't care what their stuffy asses think. We're done bending to politics today."
Veyron hesitated, then gave a small nod, the corners of his lips lifting slightly in a genuine smile. "Happy to, your highness."
Kyllian furrowed his brow. "Okay…so who's going to explain this to our armies? Because I am absolutely not doing it."
Damien chuckled, shaking his head. "I will. It was my idea, after all, so I can own the explanation." He stepped forward, and addressed both armies. With a deep breath, Damien began to explain the ruse.
*****
Meanwhile, in the castle prisons, Luna paced in her cell. Eryk approached cautiously. "Your highness," he said. "The threat is neutralized."
"Is he…dead?"
"Yes, your highness," Eryk confirmed.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Luna's face. "Then bring me his head." The chains of patience she had forced herself to maintain snapped. She strode from the prison halls, the sheer aura of royalty and ferocity radiating from her.
Yet even as adrenaline surged, Luna reminded herself to temper her actions with patience. Patience, she muttered under her breath, a quiet mantra against the primal fire of vengeance coursing through her veins.
Her thoughts flickered to Isolde. The ruse was over. The threat that had lingered over Blood City was no more, and now, finally, Luna could snap the bitch's neck, pregnant or not. Isolde was dying today.
With a final inhale, she turned toward the castle grounds. She went straight into the shower to wash off the scent of the prisons.
Luna stood for a second before the tall mirror in her bedroom, then left. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders. She paused by the cradle in the nursery, where little Magnus cooed, his tiny fingers curling around the air as if reaching for a destiny already written in blood and crown. Luna's heart softened immediately.
She bent low, pressing her lips to his forehead, inhaling that intoxicating scent of her child.
"Hey, your highness," she whispered to the infant. "Your father did it. He won. He won," Her fingers lingered on his cheek. "You're his son… his legacy."
Thessa watched silently from behind, clutching Magnus protectively when Luna finally handed him back.
She turned on her heel and went outside.
Patience, she reminded herself. Patience. Revenge was best served with composure.
*****
"We won!" Natasha squealed, bursting into Isolde's private chambers. The maid's curls bounced as she hopped on the balls of her feet. "It's official! Word from the scouts just came in — we won! The king is alive! The war's over!"
Isolde, lounging lazily on a chaise smiled. "We won?" she repeated, as if testing the words on her tongue, savoring their sweetness.
"Yes, yes! I heard the King is already on his way back. The fighting's done!" Natasha giggled. "This is amazing!"
Isolde rose from her seat. She crossed the room to her vanity, where her reflection waited — the gleam of triumph already bright in her eyes. "If we won," she purred, running a hand down her still-flat belly, "then it means I won. I am going to be queen."
"Which means…" Natasha began, grinning wide, "I'll be the new queen's personal maid!" She spun around dramatically.
In Isolde's mind, she stood in the grand hall — the crown that once graced Luna's head now lowering onto hers. Damien stood beside her, his hand clasping hers before the court, their mating bond visible. She could already hear the cheers.
A soft laugh escaped her.
"Oh, Luna," she whispered to the mirror, venom curling beneath her tone, "did you really think you could keep him forever?"
The doors to Isolde's chamber exploded open, slamming against the walls with a deafening crash. The shockwave made the vials on her vanity tremble and fall, shattering into glittering fragments.
Isolde froze where she stood — the taste of triumph still fresh on her lips — until she looked up and saw her nightmare made flesh standing at the threshold.
