015

– Maureen Laurent

I woke to silence and the faint ache of a body thoroughly claimed.

The black furs were tangled around my legs, still warm from where he’d been, but the space beside me was empty. Cold, even. Vuk was gone.

A soft sigh escaped me — half frustration, half lingering shyness. My thighs ached in the most delicious way, marks blooming across my skin like his signature. I shifted, wincing at the tenderness between my legs, and padded to the bathroom on unsteady feet.

The obsidian tub filled automatically, steam rising with that pine-and-hellfire scent that was purely him. I sank into the hot water with a hiss of pleasure-pain, letting it soothe the soreness.

A soft knock sounded.

“Come in,” I called, voice still husky from last night’s screams.

Livia entered, curtsying with that gentle smile. “Good morning, Miss. Shall I assist?”

I nodded, cheeks warming. She helped wash my hair, gentle fingers massaging my scalp, then oiled my skin until it gleamed. When she dressed me, it was in a gown of sheer black silk — transparent enough to reveal every curve, every mark he’d left, nipples peeking through the fabric like secrets.

No underwear, of course.

I looked like his perfect offering.

By the time she finished braiding my hair, the doors opened again.

Vuk.

He paused in the threshold, golden eyes raking over me — hunger flaring bright. He crossed the room, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me — deep, possessive, fangs grazing until I melted.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.

“Good morning, little moon.”

He guided me to breakfast, watching intently as I ate, gaze never leaving me.

When I finished, he reached for my hand.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice low and serious.

I blinked. “What?”

“Half my kingdom? Every treasure in the dominion? My life laid at your feet?” His thumb stroked my knuckles, eyes burning. “Name it, Maureen. It’s yours.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I don’t need those things, Vuk.”

He dropped to one knee — seven feet of ruin brought low. His hands cupped my cheeks, trembling.

“I curse every day, every moment I lived without you,” he rasped. “Three hundred and fifty years of ash… and then you. My moon in the darkness.”

My breath caught.

“Then would you light my eternity forever?” he whispered. “Be my Luna, Maureen Laurent. Rule at my side — my equal in wrath and mercy, the only star I’ll ever kneel to, the flame that tempers my hellfire.”

The words stole my air.

My heart stopped.

Huh?!

The world tilted. Tears blurred my vision.

“No,” I whispered, pulling back, voice cracking. “I… I can’t.”

His hands stilled, shock flickering in those ancient eyes.

“I can’t even handle the heat of being your mate,” I rushed out, tears spilling. “The stares, the whispers, the way the fortress watches me like I’m temporary… Luna? Me? I’m not strong enough. Not worthy. I’d break — and I’d drag you down with me.”

“Maureen—”

“And I don’t even know if I like you,” I blurted, panic rising, words tumbling before I could stop them, “or if it’s just this overbearing mate bond forcing it!”

The room went deathly still.

Vuk’s face… gods, the devastation. His golden eyes fractured — centuries of hope crumbling in an instant. His hands dropped from my cheeks like I’d burned him.

I regretted it immediately — the words tasted like ash — but the damage was done.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, backing away. “I didn’t mean— I just—”

He reached for me, voice broken. “Little moon, please—”

I couldn’t breathe.]

I grabbed his long black coat from the chair, threw it over my sheer gown, slipped on soft indoor slippers, and dashed out the door — tears streaming, heart pounding.

I needed air. Space. Anything but that shattered look in his eyes.

The corridors blurred as I ran — guards bowing in confusion, torches flaring as I passed. I burst through a side door into the frozen gardens — the ones he’d promised to show me.

Snow crunched under my slippers. The air bit cold and sharp, but I welcomed it. I found a secluded stone bench beneath an arch of ice-covered thorns, collapsed onto it, and buried my face in my hands.

“How can I be Luna?” I muttered to myself, voice shaking. “Everything’s happening so fast. I haven’t even adjusted to being free, to him, to this bond… and now this? The court would swallow me whole.”

A soft rustle of snow.

I looked up, wiping tears.

Nyxara.

She stood a few feet away, tail curled lazily, violet eyes sharp but… curious.

“Rough morning, pearl?” she asked, voice low, almost caring.

“Leave me alone…” I muttered, turning away, hugging the coat tighter.

She didn’t.

Nyxara stepped closer, snow crunching softly, and perched on the bench’s edge — not too close, but close enough.

“Wanna talk about it?” she pressed gently, tilting her head. “You look like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. And trust me, I’ve seen wolves crack under less.”

I shook my head, but the words bubbled up anyway — tired, weak, unstoppable.

“He asked me to be his Luna,” I whispered finally, voice cracking. “And I said no. Because how could I? Everything’s coming so quickly — the bond, the claiming, this place… I haven’t had time to breathe, to adjust. One moment I’m in chains, the next I’m… here. Mated to the Alpha Devil. And Luna? Me? This fortress feels like a cage sometimes — beautiful, but everyone’s controlled, watching, judging. Waiting for me to fail. I’m not strong enough for it. For any of it.”

Nyxara was quiet for a beat — no smirk, no barb. Just listening, violet eyes unreadable.

Then she leaned in slightly, voice soft but probing.

“But do you even want it? The power, I mean. Being Luna — ruling half the world at his side. Most girls would kill for that throne.”

I shook my head fiercely. “No. I don’t want power. I just want… peace. To feel safe without feeling trapped.”

She nodded slowly, tail flicking once.

“Fair. But what about the ones who put you in chains? That ex of yours — Silas, right? The family that slaughtered yours. Don’t you ever think about making them pay? From up high, where no one could touch you?”

My stomach twisted. Revenge flickered — hot, sharp — but drowned in exhaustion.

“I do,” I admitted quietly. “But not like that. Not by becoming something I’m not.”

Nyxara’s eyes gleamed — intrigued, calculating.

“And the bond?” she asked, voice dropping lower. “Be honest, pearl. Is it love… or just the pull? Because if it’s just the bond keeping you here…”

I froze, that earlier blurted doubt echoing back.

“It’s… both,” I whispered. “I think. I don’t know anymore.”