Kyllian growled low in his throat, and Damien instinctively rolled his eyes, already bracing himself for a standoff. f.re(e) w.e(b)nov el.c.om
Morvakar ignored them both. His eyes landed on Luna, gleaming. He smiled. "Look at you, my perfect creation."
Luna arched a brow and took one dramatic step forward. "You call screwing up my life perfect?"
"Careful, Princess. Gratitude looks good on a queen," he said, teeth flashing. "I gave you a worthy mate."
Luna scoffed hard enough to nearly sprain her throat.
"Scoff louder. I didn’t hear you that time," Damien drawled from behind, arms folded.
"Trouble in paradise, I see," Morvakar grinned, dragging a chair to the center of the room and plopping into it.
Damien stepped forward, business returning to his tone. "We need you to break the bond between them." He gestured between Luna and Kyllian as though introducing an awkward couple on the brink of a very public divorce.
Morvakar raised a brow. "You marked her, didn’t you?" he asked Damien. "The bond should be broken."
"Well, it isn’t," Kyllian said, his body still humming with the stubborn pull of Luna’s magic in his veins.
Morvakar frowned slightly, intrigued, as if someone had rearranged the puzzle pieces on a game he thought he mastered. "Hmmm...I never did account for the mutt in this equation."
"That’s what happens when you mess with the law of nature, Morvakar," Damien said, unamused. "Don’t look so surprised." He sank into an empty chair nearby and added with a dismissive flick of his wrist, "Just work your magic and do your thing."
With a sigh that was more theatrical than necessary, Morvakar stood and pulled out a dagger. "Fine," he said. "But I expect a thank-you."
He stepped toward Luna and Kyllian. "Stand together. Hands joined."
Kyllian’s hands trembled as their fingers intertwined, and when he looked into her eyes, there was nothing but naked pain and pleading.
Morvakar began to chant in a tongue older than kingdoms. Runes etched into the floor beneath them glowing.
A swirling wind rose within the room, and Luna’s chest grew tight. A pain unlike any physical wound began to claw through her ribs, curling around her heart. It was grief.
Kyllian’s grip on her hand slackened.
"I don’t want this," he whispered.
"I know," Luna choked, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. Her throat burned. free.webn\ove(l)(.)c(o)m
The light between them flared one final time. And then... it snapped.
Luna stumbled back, clutching her chest.
Kyllian stood still, blinking rapidly as though he couldn’t quite register what had just happened. The ache in his soul was too sharp to scream. He simply bowed his head... and said nothing.
"Well," Morvakar said brightly, wiping his hands. "That was fun."
Luna glared at him through her tears. "You’re a monster."
"Oh, darling. I’ve been called worse by people but to be fair, none are as magnificent as you." fre.eweb novel\.c om
Damien rose from his seat, frowning at Luna’s trembling frame and the devastation carved into Kyllian’s eyes.
"We should go," he said gently, placing a steadying hand on Luna’s back.
She glanced at Kyllian once more seeing the emptiness he felt.
Seliora had just finished her last glass of water. She moved through her lavish but lonely room.
With a gentle sigh, she switched off the lights and let the room sink into darkness. Her fingers brushed against her arm, almost as if trying to warm herself from the chill of the emptiness. Just as she turned to head for bed, an eerie glow coming from her dresser, caught her eye. Her heart gave a little jump. The envelope. The same one Doctor Mira had handed her, which had once held nothing but a blank page.
Now, glowing with faint red letters across the front, it read one simple command: "Open."
Seliora’s brows drew together. She quickly turned the light back on, only to gasp when the letters vanished. Off again—there it was. Back on—gone.
Her heart beat faster, but she wasn’t afraid. She was intrigued. She opened the envelope. The blank paper was no longer blank. It was inked in crimson red with a simple but chilling message:
"The princess cannot carry the future heir.
When you need help, place a red ribbon on the outside of your door."
Seliora’s fingers lingered on the paper, a slow smile curling her lips. It was a wicked kind of smile.
It was nice to know she wasn’t alone. That someone out there shared her vision for the future. Someone bold enough to defy royalty. She didn’t know who they were yet—but they knew her. That meant she had value. That meant she had power.
She tore up the letter into bits and pieces and threw in the bin. She didn’t need help—not yet. But oh, when the time came? She’d ask for it.
Luna stepped into the throne room and found King Lucivar, half-slouched on one of the sofas in the far corner. His hands were buried in his face.
"Your Highness, you sent for me." She bowed with practiced grace.
"Yes, Princess. Come... have a seat." King Lucivar gestured toward the chair opposite him, his eyes weary, their usual steel dulled.
Luna obeyed, her hands folding in her lap. "Is everything okay? You look troubled."
Lucivar gave a dismissive wave of his hand, though the gesture lacked energy. "Oh, never mind me. Just Blood City troubles." He tried to smile, but it came out crooked. "There are a few things I need to discuss with you, but the most important is... I met your father at the Supernatural Rulers’ Summit. He asked me to extend his greetings."
"He... misses you," Lucivar added.
Luna’s lips trembled into a small smile. "I miss them too. Every day." Her gaze fell to her hands. "But I understand the reason for my banishment. My father raised me to know that sometimes the throne’s will may not be your will."
Lucivar chuckled softly. "Wise words. He looked like he’d aged a hundred years though."
"I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him," Luna whispered, then lifted her eyes to Lucivar again. "Still, thank you. For telling me."