I REALLY DO NOT CARE

MAYA

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, but I kept my posture straight and my eyes fixed on the silver goblet in front of me.

I said nothing, trying to ignore the question. I picked up my napkin and wiped the corner of my mouth as if I hadn't just spoken the name of a dead princess into the quiet dining hall.

Edward didn't break his gaze. His amber eyes were blazing, his chest heaving under his dark tunic. "Maya, answer me! Who were you thanking?"

Before I could invent a smooth lie, a sharp, ragged voice burst from the doorway.

"I told you! I told you she is possessed with evil and the spirit of the dead!" Maria screamed, staggering back into the grand hall, clutching her dirty sweeping cloak around her bruised shoulders. She looked unhinged, her hair wild and her eyes bloodshot as she pointed a trembling, dirt-stained finger straight at me. "You heard her, Edward! You heard her with your own ears! She just thanked the ghost of Philomena! She is using black magic to destroy us, to destroy this whole pack!"

I didn't panic. I didn't even flinch.

Looking at Maria’s hysterical face, a strange, calm certainty washed over my soul. Somehow I knew that Philomena would shut her up. I could feel the familiar, icy chill humming beneath the floorboards, settling around my shoulders like a regal cloak. Philomena was listening, and she was done hearing this woman's poisonous mouth.

And just like I had thought, while Maria was blabbing, the massive iron and crystal chandelier hanging directly above her began to tremble.

The thick iron chain holding the heavy fixture creaked loudly. A second later, with a deafening SNAP, the links gave way.

"Look at her face, Edward! She's—" Maria’s shriek was cut short as the massive chandelier came crashing down directly onto her head and shoulders!

CRASH!

Heavy iron beams and hundreds of sharp crystal pendants rained down upon her, knocking her flat onto the polished marble floor. A sharp gasp left her throat before she collapsed into complete, unconscious silence beneath the mound of broken glass and iron.

Shut her up completely. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Edward leaped out of his chair with lightning speed. "Maria!" he roared, rushing across the hall toward the pile of shattered glass.

While Alpha Edward hurried to help her, pulling heavy iron pieces off her limp body, I calmly stood up from the long dining table. I smoothed down the front of my silk dress, picked up my wine glass, took a small sip, and smiled.

I walked out like nothing happened, my head held high, my heels clicking softly against the stone tiles as I left the chaos behind me. For the first time, I wasn't terrified of the dark power protecting me. I embraced it.

I returned to our private bedroom, sitting by the tall vanity mirror to brush my dark hair in the soft candlelight.

An hour passed before the heavy bedroom door creaked open. Edward walked in, his clothes slightly disheveled, his face drawn tight with stress and exhaustion. He stood near the threshold, staring at me with a mix of awe, confusion, and deep concern.

"How is she?" I asked softly, setting my hairbrush down without looking back.

Edward sighed, running a heavy hand through his disheveled hair. "The pack doctor was called to examine her. It happened that she got only physical injuries—scratches, deep bruises, and a minor concussion—and no internal injury."

I turned around on my chair, a small, cold smile touching my lips. "She is lucky. And she should still finish her punishment," I told Alpha Edward, my voice firm and uncompromising. "Concussion or not, the outer streets still need sweeping."

Edward looked at me, a low growl rumbling in his chest. But it wasn't a growl of anger—it was a growl of deep, instinctual submission to the authority radiating from my skin.

"You've changed, Maya," Edward whispered, walking slowly across the room toward me. "You aren't afraid anymore."

"I was never supposed to be afraid, Edward," I replied softly, standing up to face him. "This is my house. I am your Luna."

The word Luna seemed to snap something deep inside him. The hesitation in his eyes vanished, replaced instantly by a raw, ravenous hunger that made his amber eyes glow bright in the dim room. The mate bond surged between us like a roaring bonfire, hot and undeniable.

He reached out, his massive hands cupping my face, and pulled me into a fierce, desperate kiss.

There was no hesitation this time. No ghost rising up to block him. Philomena was satisfied with Maria's blood on the floor, and for the first time in months, the air between Edward and me was completely clear.

He lifted me easily, carrying me toward the bed and laying me down against the soft velvet sheets. He dropped to his knees between my legs, his hands sliding up my dress, pulling the silk back until my thighs were bare to the cool night air.

Oh God, the man already had his mouth inside my vagina, sucking the juice with a slow, agonizing passion that made my head roll back against the pillows.

"Ah... Edward!" I cried out, my fingers tangling tightly into his dark hair, pulling him closer as intense waves of pleasure crashed through my body.

He didn't stop. He licked and sucked with a fierce, ravenous rhythm, tasting every drop of my desire until I was shaking, my hips lifting off the bed to meet his mouth. The pleasure was so pure, so overwhelming, that it washed away every nightmare, every doubt, and every drop of fear I had ever carried in this palace.

He moved up my body, his chest heaving, his lips tracing a burning trail up my stomach, my breasts, and onto my neck. He brought his hard length up between us, his gaze locking onto mine with fierce, possessive devotion.

He missed it, and I also missed his sperm all over my face—that raw, intense intimacy that bound our souls completely together without secrets, without curses, and without fear.

When he drove deep inside me, a long, breathtaking moan tore from my throat. It wasn't the scream of a ghost, and it wasn't the cry of a haunted woman. It was me—Maya, Philomena, the true Luna of this pack—claiming her husband, her power, and her rightful throne once and for all.