"Princess..." he murmured. He didn’t bother opening his eyes.
"Morvakar." She answered curtly, not in the mood for games.
At that, his lips quirked slightly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"I came for answers," she said. "Because it seems no one will give them to me."
"And what makes you think I will give them to you?" he asked lazily.
"Because I am not here as a princess," she said, stepping into the chamber. "I am here as a mate."
"What do you need to know?" he asked.
Luna swallowed hard and stepped closer. "The prince is sick," she said, voice strained. "And it seems to have something to do with you."
At that, a thin smile curved Morvakar’s lips. "He didn’t tell you," he mused, more to himself than her. His head tilted slightly, and he chuckled under his breath, but it lacked humor. "Interesting."
"Tell me what?" she demanded, a tremor betraying her tightly controlled composure.
Morvakar’s fingers tapped together slowly, thoughtfully. "I really don’t think it’s something you should hear from me."
"You’ve got to be kidding me." She shook her head and took another step forward. "Morvakar, please. So many things don’t make sense and maybe—maybe I should have asked more questions sooner, maybe I should have fought harder for the truth. But even if I had, no one would have told me anything. They’ve all treated me like I’m too delicate to know the truth."
"When he marked you," Morvakar said at last, "he signed his death sentence."
Luna went utterly still. Her lungs forgot how to function. "What do you mean?" she whispered.
Morvakar stood, his tall, lean form unfolding with deliberate grace. He walked across the room, every movement heavy with memory. His fingers reached out and brushed the dust off a picture frame resting on a crooked shelf.
The photo inside was old—faded at the edges but unmistakably personal. A young boy stood beside a woman with Morvakar’s dark eyes. The boy was smiling. Carefree. Not a hint of the doom that would follow him.
"When your mother walked into this place all those years ago, begging for a child, I saw a chance," Morvakar said, gaze locked on the picture.
He turned, his gaze landing on Luna. "I knew the prince was desperate to find his mate. Quite the romantic." His lips curved in a bitter smirk. "Just like his father once was. So I seized the opportunity to rewrite destiny." f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m
Luna’s mouth was dry. "You’re saying you created the bond between us?"
Morvakar gave a slow nod. "A bond that was never meant to exist. A cursed tether, carefully disguised to look like fate. Honestly, I didn’t think it would work. Magic like that—tampering with soul threads—it’s volatile. But when it did..." He chuckled grimly. "It worked too well."
Luna felt her heart fall. "Why would you do that? Why him? Why me?"
Morvakar looked at her. "Because Lucivar needed to be taught a lesson. And Damien... Damien was just collateral." He turned back toward the shelf, brushing his thumb over the frame again. "You are his poison."
Luna swayed on her feet, her knees threatening to buckle.
Morvakar’s next words were quiet. "He knew he would die. But he marked you anyway."
Her hand flew to the spot on her neck where Damien had marked her. Her eyes blurred.
"He chose to suffer. Chose to die. To save you."
Luna couldn’t breathe.
"But if the bond is artificial," she asked hoarsely, "why does it feel so real?"
Morvakar shrugged. "Because love doesn’t care what’s real."
"Why? What was the point?".
"To prove a point. For his father to know that we would do anything for love."
"So he is going to die?" The words felt like ash in her mouth.
Morvakar nodded once, slowly. "Yes."
Luna’s breath hitched, her spine straightening as her mind spun. The dots she’d been too stubborn to connect began to draw a clear, damning picture. Damien’s constant pain. His withdrawal. His exhaustion. Her stubbornness. Her pride.
Her heart dropped into her stomach. f\r(e)ewe.b no\vel.com
"No... You proved your point, Morvakar," she said, stepping forward now, fire rising in her blood. "Now, save him."
He shook his head, an eerie calmness etched into every sharp angle of his face. "I cannot."
"You cannot or you will not?" Luna shot back.
"I cannot. There is no saving him. He made his choice. And now, he will die."
Luna staggered slightly where she stood. "No...please. Morvakar...please. You cannot do this."
Morvakar stood still. "Child... I am not the villain they describe me to be." He walked past her toward the hearth, staring into the flames. "If I could, I would. All of this... was to let people know that what my son did, he did for love. Damning the consequences."
She let out a shuddering breath and walked closer. Her pride—so carefully cultivated over the years—took one look at her broken heart and crumbled.
She went to her knees.
In front of Morvakar. On the cold stone floor.
The mighty werewolf princess, daughter of the magnificent Alpha King. But here she was, stripped bare by emotion.
"I am begging you," she whispered, the tears falling freely now. "Please. I cannot have his death on my conscience."
Morvakar turned to her.
"The only person who should feel guilty is Luciver, not you, child...You... you were just... I’m sorry to say... a pawn."
"All I can advise you to do is to make good use of the time the prince has left." Morvakar sighed. .com
Luna stared at him through tear-blurred lashes, her face blotched and crumpled with emotion. "You did this. You are powerful enough to create me, and I must say, I am incredible."
Despite the situation—despite the heartbreak, the death looming over their heads—Morvakar let out a small, startled laugh. "That’s... not wrong," he admitted, brow raising.
"You have the ability to do incredible things. I’ll do anything, Morvakar... anything... just please... try something... anything."
Without a word, he stepped forward and bent down, his arms curling gently around her shoulders. She didn’t resist as he lifted her from the cold stone floor, her sobs quieting only slightly as her face pressed into his shoulder. "I will try, my child."