The hall was glowing with lights, and the cheers of the crowd filled every corner. I stood a little off to the side with the other maids, my hands folded in front of me. My eyes followed Belinda as the crown was placed gently on her head. She looked stunning, radiant, even. The whole pack bowed their heads, and I felt my throat tighten a little.
"She really looks like a queen," one maid whispered beside me.
Another maid smiled faintly. "She does."
But instead of sharing my joy, the other maids looked at me differently. Their eyes dropped down to the simple gown I wore, the one Damon had given me earlier. It wasn’t fancy, but it was new, soft, and it hugged my belly just enough to remind me of the life growing inside.
"Look at her dress," another maid muttered, loud enough for me to hear. "Trying to outshine us as if she belongs with them."
A few of them giggled.
"She only looks special because Damon pities her," one added. "No wonder she thinks she’s better than us."
Their words stung, sharp and cruel. I kept my head down, gripping my fingers together. My heart ached, but I tried not to let them see it. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of watching me break.
Inside, though, I whispered to myself: Just endure it, Lisa. It doesn’t matter what they say.
Still, their voices chipped at me.
"She thinks wearing silk will make her different," one scoffed.
I swallowed hard. My chest burned. I wanted to turn and leave, but I stayed rooted.
Then, suddenly, everything shifted.
I froze, my heart leaping at the sound of his voice. Damon.
I turned slowly, and there he was, tall, proud, his eyes searching only for me even in the middle of the crowd. The moment his gaze landed on me, all the whispers of the maids fell silent. He walked toward me, ignoring everyone else, and stopped right at my side.
"Why are you standing here alone?" he asked softly.
I blinked quickly, forcing away the tears that had threatened. "I didn’t want to disturb. And I had nothing to do than to enjoy the events.."
Damon glanced briefly toward the stage where Belinda stood, smiling with her new crown. Then he turned back to me. His jaw clenched. "I should be with you."
My heart twisted. I shook my head quickly. "No. Damon, you should be with Belinda tonight, not me. She needs you more than I do. She’s Luna now."
But his answer came fast, steady, and without hesitation. "You are the one carrying our child, Lisa. That means you need me more. Tonight, and every night."
My lips parted, but no words came out. I felt something hot sting the back of my eyes. His words wrapped around me, soft and fierce at the same time. I guessed I was being emotional becaus of my pregnancy.
Instead, he reached out and touched my arm gently. "Come. You shouldn’t be standing here."
I whispered, still trying to argue though my voice trembled, "But what will people say if you leave Belinda and walk me away?"
"They can say what they want," Damon said firmly. His eyes didn’t waver.
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding like a drum. Slowly, I nodded.
As the ceremony drew to a close and the cheers filled the air again, Damon stayed beside me. He didn’t leave me once. When the last words were spoken and the crowd began to scatter, he bent slightly and whispered near my ear, "Let’s go."
He took my hand, strong, warm, and led me out of the hall. I felt the eyes of others on us, but I kept my gaze down.
When we reached his room, he opened the door quietly and guided me in. The moment I stepped inside, I sighed in relief. The air was calmer here, softer, away from judging eyes.
"Sit," Damon said gently.
I hesitated, then obeyed. But instead of letting me perch awkwardly on the edge, he leaned down and scooped me into his arms. My eyes widened, my breath catching.
"Damon..." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ɴovᴇl(F)ɪre.ɴet
"Shh," he murmured, carrying me toward the bed. "Let me take care of you."
He laid me down so carefully, as if I were fragile glass. Then he sat beside me, his hand brushing my hair back from my face. My chest felt warm, a lump rising in my throat.
Damon’s eyes softened. He placed his palm gently on my stomach, rubbing in slow circles. "This," he said quietly, "is what matters most. You. Our child."
Tears filled my eyes. I let out a shaky breath. "I... I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl yet."
He smiled faintly, his thumb brushing across my skin. "It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, I want the child to be like you."
I blinked, startled. "Like me?"
"Yes." His voice was steady, warm. "Kind. Gentle. Strong in ways most people don’t see. I want our child to have your heart, Lisa."
I pressed a hand to my mouth, my chest tightening with emotion. "Damon..."
He leaned closer, whispering, "Do you already have a name in mind?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. I...I don’t. I was waiting until I knew if it’s a boy or girl. I didn’t want to hope too much."
Damon chuckled softly, the sound deep and comforting. "Then let’s think together."
I smiled through my tears. "Okay."
We lay there, side by side, his hand never leaving my tummy.
"What if it’s a boy?" he asked.
I thought for a moment. "Hmm... maybe something simple. Like Alex."
"Alex," Damon repeated, testing the sound. He shook his head playfully. "Too plain. What about Adrian?"
I laughed softly. "Adrian? That sounds too bold."
He grinned. "Then it fits. He’ll be bold like me."
I nudged him gently. "Or stubborn like you."
We both laughed quietly.
"And if it’s a girl?" Damon asked after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful, like he was already picturing her in his mind.
I hesitated, my fingers brushing against my belly. Then I whispered softly, almost shyly, "I always liked the name Elena."
Damon’s eyes softened instantly, the hard edges of him melting as if the name itself had touched something deep inside him. "Elena," he repeated slowly, as though savoring it. "Beautiful. Just like you."
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I lowered my gaze, embarrassed but unable to stop the tiny smile tugging at my lips. "Stop," I murmured, half hiding my face against his chest.
"I mean it," he said, not letting me escape his gaze. He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to my temple, lingering just long enough for me to feel how serious he was.
I let out a soft sigh, curling slightly toward him, comforted by the weight of his arm around me. "What if she’s shy, like me?" I asked quietly, almost worried.
Damon chuckled softly, brushing his thumb across my stomach in slow circles. "Then she’ll be perfect. Shy or bold, stubborn or gentle... she’ll be ours. And I’ll love her the same."
My heart tightened, full and aching at the same time. "You make it sound so easy."
"It is," he whispered, eyes steady on mine. "Because she’ll be a piece of you, and that’s all I could ever want."