Vladimir's Marked Luna-Chapter 94: Moon Drunk

🌙𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡

The ground phased out of existence just as I tried to get down from the car. Vladimir caught me before I could fall into the void that the ground had suddenly become.

He swept me up completely, and without a word began to walk towards the mansion that had suddenly also been duplicated into two buildings. I squirmed against him, confused as to why the world around me had started to play tricks on me. Vladimir from my distorted perspective seemed completely unfazed.

Was it normal in the Umbra realm for this to happen?

Instead I pushed against him. "I can walk," I protested.

"I doubt that," He did not even look down at me.

"I can, put me down," I protested, my words came out more sluggish and as distorted as the world had become. "Put me down, ice king."

He did not stop, not for a second.

I looked over his shoulder as we stepped into the warmth of the mansion, looking at Dmitri who now had a twin beside him who obnoxiously copied all of his movements. "Guys..." I told them, "Tell him to let me go. He is being stubborn."

The Dmitris shook their heads, almost in pity but a small amused smile on their lips. "I beg to differ."

"You are supposed to be on my side. I thought you were my friend." I queried, hurt.

"Just enjoy the ride, Lilith," He advised, "you’ve had a long night.

The night’s exciting dancing came back to the forefront of my mind, "I didn’t get to dance like I wanted. I wanted to dance with you too. I wanted to dance with everyone. I didn’t get to see my boyfriend."

Vladimir twitched and I remembered that he was carrying me. His voice came out sort of strained as he asked. "And who might that be?"

I paused, then broke into a smile so wide my cheeks hurt. "Take a guess!" I bubbled.

His jaw tensed. "I don’t know, Moya," He drawled, his husky voice dragging like caress through my spine, leaving shivers in its wake. "Tell me."

For a moment, the haze dissipated and the world reclaimed its focus. His brilliant features broke through the fog before the cloak fell over again.

I let out a giggle. "You’re so silly, Vlad. It’s you. You got scared huh?"

The words tumbled out before I could think about them, loose and unfiltered

His steps faltered. Just for a second. But I felt it—the slight hitch in his stride, the way his grip on me tightened fractionally.

"Vlad?" he repeated, and there was something strange in his voice. Something I couldn’t quite name through the pleasant buzz humming through my veins.

"Mhmm," I hummed, my head lolling against his shoulder because holding it up suddenly seemed like too much work. "Vladimir is too long. And ’ice king’ makes you sound mean. You’re not mean." I paused, considering. "Well, sometimes you’re mean. But not to me. Not really."

We were moving through the mansion now—I could tell by the change in temperature, the soft echo of footsteps on marble. But everything was still doubled, the chandeliers above splitting into twins that danced and swayed.

"You danced with me tonight," I continued, the memory flooding back warm and golden. "That was nice. You made everyone go away. Just us." I smiled at his shirt. "I liked that part."

"Lilith—"

"And you smell good," I interrupted. "Really good. Like winter but not the scary kind. The pretty kind. With snow and—" I wrinkled my nose, trying to find the word. "Frost patterns on windows."

Vladimir made a sound low in his throat that might have been a growl or a laugh or something in between.

"Why are there two staircases?" I asked suddenly, staring at the duplicated grand staircase ahead of us. "Is this a design choice? Seems excessive."

"There’s only one staircase, moya."

"Are you sure? Because I’m seeing two. Maybe you need glasses. Do werewolves need glasses? That would be funny. Little glasses on a big scary wolf—"

"Lilith." His voice was strained again, tight in a way that cut through even my haze. "You need to stop talking."

I blinked up at him, hurt lancing through the pleasant fog. "Why? Am I annoying you? I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet."

"No." The word came out sharp, almost pained. "You’re not annoying me. You’re—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching so hard I could see the muscle jump. "Just... rest."

But I didn’t want to rest. I wanted to understand why his face looked like that—all tense and hungry and something else I couldn’t name.

"Are you okay?" I asked, lifting my hand to touch his jaw.

He caught my wrist before I made contact, his grip gentle but firm. "Don’t."

"Why not?"

"Because I’m barely holding on as it is, and if you touch me right now—" He stopped abruptly, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "Just don’t."

That should have scared me. The intensity in his voice, the way his control seemed to be fraying at the edges.

But drunk-me just smiled, pleased for some reason I couldn’t articulate.

"You want to fuck me," I said, the realization making me giddy.

His eyes snapped open, pale and burning, slowly reddening "Lilith—"

"It’s okay," I assured him, patting his chest clumsily with my free hand. "Even when you’re bossy. Even when you bite me in front of everyone—" I gasped suddenly, hand flying to my neck. "You bit me! In front of everyone!"

The memory crashed back—his mouth on my throat, the crowd’s roar, the way my entire body had gone liquid and hot.

My cheeks flamed. "That was... that was really..."

"Inappropriate?" he supplied, his voice rough.

"Hot," I finished, then immediately clapped my hand over my mouth, eyes wide.

Vladimir stopped walking entirely.

We stood there in the hallway—or hallways, since everything was still doubled—and he just stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read through the haze.

Then, very carefully, very deliberately, he started moving again.

Faster this time.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Your room."

"Why?"

"Because if I don’t get you behind a locked door in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret."

That should have alarmed me.

Instead, drunk-me giggled. "Promise?"

The growl that rumbled through his chest was answer enough.

—

𓆩𝐕𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐫𓆪

"I want to die sometimes, Vlad," I froze in my tracks, the door in my sights, the rut screwing my head but all I could hear ringing and echoing was what she just said.

I want to die sometimes

I want to die sometimes

I was to die sometimes

My head whipped back and my gaze clashed with her bleary one. She was smiling.

"Don’t go, Vlad," The edge of her lip twitched. "I didn’t want to be alone."

I swallowed, my jaw clenching as I forced the words out. "I can’t."

She blinked slowly, a flicker of hurt before it was snuffed out. Suddenly, she rose from the bed I had just so carefully positioned her on. "I will look for Dmitri then."

Something foul and green unfurled in my chest like some pungent, accursed flower.

Before I could react, she was stumbling her way towards the door, I caught her by the arm pulling away from the exit she sought. "I will stay. Tonight." I gazed back up at me, her eyes still unfocused, her face flushed pink and the gold swirls in her sparkling.

She looked miles away from this room, from this place but somehow she was present and so fully aware of me, might as well have been unclad. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

A slow, victorious spread across her face, like she had won.

I knew well what she was doing but there was no way in bloody hell that I was going to let her wander around drunk. I could lock her up but recalling how she had reacted when she was cornered in the council room by Caesar by proceeding to chop off her own finger—the solution could only aggravate her condition.

I eyed her warily, the rut rioting under my skin, attempting to corrode all my self control and preservation.

We were alone, in her room, filled with her scent and I couldn’t leave unless I wanted someone else seeing her in her current vulnerable state

"Fine," I ground out, the word tasting like ash and surrender. "I’ll stay."

Her smile widened, triumphant and entirely too pleased with herself for someone who could barely stand upright.

"Good," she said simply, then promptly turned and stumbled back toward the bed.

I watched her go, cataloging every unsteady step, every sway of her hips that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with the moon wine coursing through her system.

She climbed onto the bed with far less grace than she’d managed earlier, nearly face-planting into the pillows before righting herself. Then she patted the space beside her, looking at me expectantly.

"Absolutely not," I said.

Her brow furrowed. "But you said you’d stay."

"I said I’d stay. I didn’t say I’d get in that bed with you."

"Where else would you sleep?" She looked around the room as if searching for alternatives, her movements exaggerated and slow.

"The chair," I said, gesturing to the armchair near the window.

She stared at it, then at me, then back at the chair. "That looks uncomfortable."

"I don’t care."

"Vlad—"

"Those are the terms, Lilith. I stay, but I stay in the chair. That’s not negotiable."

Her lower lip jutted out in what could only be described as a pout. A drunk, devastating pout that made something in my chest tighten painfully.