Chapter 9:The price of being his luna

By the fourth morning of my marriage, I had learned three things about Nightthorn.

The council disliked uncertainty. The warriors respected strength more than titles. And the servants knew far more about what happened inside the fortress than anyone cared to admit.

The third discovery proved the most useful.

I was crossing the lower corridor after breakfast when I overheard two servants discussing the upcoming harvest gathering in Eldermere. One complained about the number of supplies being prepared for the visiting delegation. The other mentioned that the kitchen had received a request to accommodate several guests from Bloodfang.

I stopped.

“Bloodfang is sending a delegation?”

Both women turned so quickly that one nearly dropped the basket in her arms.

“My lady,” the older servant stammered, lowering her head. “We didn’t know you were there.”

“I gathered that.” I kept my tone gentle. “Who told you about the delegation?”

“The kitchen steward, my lady. He received the expected guest list this morning.”

“Has the list been delivered to the Alpha?”

“I believe so.”

I thanked them and continued toward Darius’s office.

If Lucien planned to attend the gathering himself, the opportunity to see Kael might be closer than I had expected. But I couldn’t allow hope to make me careless. Lucien had never done anything without considering how it might benefit him.

If he came to Eldermere, he would have a purpose.

I intended to discover it before he could use it against me.

Darius was reviewing a stack of reports when I entered his office.

He looked up, then glanced at the papers in my hand.

“Should I be concerned?”

“That depends. Are you planning to attend the harvest gathering?”

“I was.”

“Then you may need to be concerned.”

I placed the guest list on his desk.

He examined it, his expression changing slightly when he reached the Bloodfang delegation.

“Lucien is attending.”

“So I heard.”

“His name was confirmed this morning.”

“Do you know whether he intends to bring Isolde?”

“Yes. She will accompany him.”

I took a seat.

“And Kael?”

“His name isn’t on the list.”

My brief excitement faded.

“Of course it isn’t.”

Darius set the document down.

“Don’t assume that means he won’t be there. The list contains official guests, not every member of a visiting household.”

“Lucien would never bring Kael somewhere I could approach him without supervision.”

“Perhaps not. But he may bring him to demonstrate that Bloodfang’s succession remains secure.”

I considered that.

Lucien had always understood the value of appearances. A public gathering offered him an opportunity to display his new bride, reinforce his political alliances, and remind neighboring territories that his son remained under his control.

If Kael attended, Lucien would make certain everyone understood who held authority over him.

That meant I couldn’t simply arrive and rush toward my child.

I needed to think beyond my own desperation.

“I want to speak with Eldermere’s council before the gathering,” I said. “Not about Lucien. About the rules governing the event.”

Darius leaned back.

“Explain.”

“If the gathering is intended to be neutral, there must be customs governing disputes between visiting territories. I want to know whether a mother can request a private audience with her child without it being treated as a political provocation.”

His gaze sharpened.

“Lucien could interpret that request as a challenge.”

“He can interpret anything as a challenge if it suits him. But if Eldermere has established procedures, he will have to decide whether refusing them is worth the embarrassment.”

“And if their rules don’t cover the situation?”

“Then I’ll ask them to establish a reasonable arrangement.”

Darius regarded me for a moment.

“You’re learning how to use diplomacy.”

“I learned what happens when I depend entirely on someone else’s goodwill.”

Something in his expression shifted.

He didn’t ask me to explain.

Instead, he reached for a clean sheet of parchment.

“I’ll write to Eldermere’s council today. You can prepare the request.”

I studied him.

“You’re allowing me to lead this?”

“You’re the one who wants to see your son. You should be the one to decide how to approach it.”

I had expected support. I hadn’t expected him to hand me the responsibility without trying to control the outcome.

“Thank you,” I said.

He inclined his head.

“Just remember that diplomacy requires patience.”

“I have plenty of patience.”

“Really?”

“I’m married to you, aren’t I?”

For a second, he looked genuinely surprised.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable. The sound softened the hard lines of his face, making him look younger than the feared Alpha the territories whispered about.

I found myself smiling before I could stop.

Darius noticed.

His laughter faded, but the warmth remained in his eyes.

“Perhaps this marriage won’t be entirely unbearable,” he said.

“Let’s not become optimistic. We haven’t even survived our first week.”

“An encouraging thought, my Luna.”

I gathered the guest list and left before the conversation could become any more comfortable.

Comfort was dangerous.

Especially when it came from a man I had married for reasons that had nothing to do with love.

By midday, I had finished drafting the request to Eldermere’s council.

I asked for clarification of the gathering’s neutrality rules, the procedures for resolving disputes between visiting families, and the possibility of arranging a private meeting between a parent and child.

I deliberately avoided mentioning Lucien by name.

The request was about a principle, not a personal quarrel.

When I handed it to Darius, he read it carefully.

“You’ve made it difficult for them to dismiss you without appearing unreasonable.”

“That was the intention.”

“There’s one problem.”

I waited.

“Eldermere’s council may agree to the meeting, but they cannot force Lucien to bring Kael.”

“I know.”

“And if he refuses, you’ll have to decide what comes next.”

“I know that too.”

Darius folded the letter.

“I don’t want you walking into this believing a polite request will solve everything.”

I met his eyes.

“Neither do I. But if I begin with threats, Lucien will use them to justify keeping Kael away from me. I need to leave him as few excuses as possible.”

He nodded and handed the letter to his secretary.

It would be sent before sunset.

For the first time, the possibility of seeing Kael felt like something I could work toward instead of a distant wish.

It wasn’t a guarantee.

But it was a beginning.

That evening, I attended my first formal dinner as Nightthorn’s Luna.

The dining hall was crowded with senior warriors, council members, and visiting merchants. I wore a dark burgundy gown with a modest gold clasp at the waist, choosing something elegant without making myself look as though I were trying to compete with a princess.

I had no intention of allowing Isolde’s presence to dictate what I wore.

Darius arrived shortly after me.

His gaze moved over my dress, then settled on my face.

“You look well.”

“Is that your formal opinion as Alpha?”

“My personal opinion.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Should I be worried that you’re developing a habit of complimenting me?”

“Deeply. I have a reputation to maintain.”

I laughed quietly as he offered his arm.

We entered the hall together.

The conversations gradually faded as we approached the high table. Several guests bowed to Darius, while others studied me with undisguised curiosity.

I was accustomed to being watched.

What I hadn’t yet grown accustomed to was being watched as though every movement might reveal whether I deserved my place.

I took my seat beside Darius and listened as the dinner began.

Halfway through the meal, a merchant from the eastern trade route asked whether Nightthorn intended to strengthen its northern defenses following the recent movement of Bloodfang scouts.

The question was polite, but I heard the challenge beneath it.

Everyone wanted to know whether my marriage would lead to conflict.

Darius set down his glass.

“Nightthorn will protect its borders. We have no intention of provoking Bloodfang.”

“And your Luna?” the merchant asked. “Does she share that position?”

Several faces turned toward me.

I placed my napkin beside my plate.

“I share my husband’s commitment to protecting Nightthorn. But I don’t believe every disagreement must become a war.”

The merchant smiled faintly.

“Even when the disagreement concerns your former mate?”

“Especially then.”

His smile faltered.

“My personal history with Lucien Draven doesn’t determine the future of two territories. If he respects our borders and the agreements between our packs, there is no reason for conflict. If he chooses otherwise, Nightthorn will respond accordingly.”

I kept my voice calm.

“I am not here to drag this territory into my private affairs. I am here because I have chosen to build a future in which my decisions belong to me.”

Darius said nothing, allowing my words to stand on their own.

The merchant inclined his head and returned to his meal.

Under the table, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“You handled that well,” Darius murmured.

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy watching me answer difficult questions.”

“I enjoy watching people discover that underestimating you is a mistake.”

I glanced at him.

There was no teasing in his expression this time.

For a brief moment, I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Did he see the woman who could strengthen his political position? The former mate of his rival? A convenient ally who might help him manage his council?

Or did he see something else?

I pushed the thought away.

Whatever Darius saw, I couldn’t afford to build my future around his opinion of me.

I had spent enough years doing that with Lucien.

After dinner, I found myself on the eastern terrace, where the night air carried the scent of pine trees and distant rain.

The fortress grounds stretched below me. Torches marked the paths, and the guards changed shifts near the outer wall.

I heard footsteps behind me.

“You disappeared.”

I didn’t turn.

“I needed air.”

Darius joined me at the railing.

“Was the dinner unbearable?”

“Not entirely. Your merchants are less intimidating than your council.”

“They’ll be delighted to hear that.”

We stood quietly for a while.

Then I asked the question that had been troubling me since the afternoon.

“Have you ever regretted becoming Alpha?”

Darius didn’t answer immediately.

“Sometimes.”

I looked at him.

“I expected you to say never.”

“Then you expected me to lie.”

His honesty caught me off guard.

He rested his hands on the stone railing.

“There are days when I wonder what my life would have been if I had been born into a different family, in a different territory, without the expectations that came with my name.”

“And the curse?”

His jaw tightened.

“The curse has taken things from me. It has also made certain decisions for me before I had the courage to make them myself.”

I studied his profile.

“What do you mean?”

“Every time someone suggested marriage, I found a reason to refuse. It was easier to tell myself that I was protecting them than to admit I was afraid.”

The admission was quiet, almost reluctant.

I understood that kind of fear.

Not the fear of a curse, but the fear of allowing someone close enough to hurt you again.

“Do you still believe every woman who loves you will die?” I asked.

“I believe the curse is real. I have seen what it does.”

“That isn’t quite the same answer.”

“No,” he said. “It isn’t.”

He turned toward me.

“I won’t ask you to trust me with something I don’t fully understand myself.”

For the first time, I saw how carefully he guarded the space between us. He could command an army without hesitation, yet even the idea of love seemed to make him cautious.

I knew something about that, too.

“I won’t promise to love you, Darius.”

“I haven’t asked you to.”

“And I won’t let fear make my decisions for me.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

I looked back at the grounds.

“Then perhaps we understand each other better than I thought.”

“Perhaps.”

The wind lifted a strand of hair across my cheek. Before I could brush it away, Darius raised his hand, then stopped just short of touching me.

The hesitation was so slight that another woman might not have noticed it.

I did.

He lowered his hand.

“Good night, Seraphina.”

“Good night, Darius.”

He left me on the terrace.

I remained there for several minutes, thinking about the man who had married me without demanding my affection, who had defended my right to speak without trying to speak for me, and who carried a curse that had taught him to fear the very thing most people spent their lives searching for.

I felt sympathy for him.

That did not mean I was falling in love with him.

I reminded myself of that as I returned to my chambers.

More than anything, I needed to remember that our marriage had begun as an agreement.

My heart was not part of the contract.

And I intended to keep it that way.

The reply from Eldermere arrived the following morning.

I was in Darius’s office when his secretary entered with the sealed letter.

He passed it to me.

“It’s addressed to you.”

My fingers tightened around the envelope.

I broke the seal and read the response.

Eldermere’s council had agreed to consider my request. They would not interfere in Bloodfang’s internal affairs, but they were willing to provide a private room for a meeting between me and Kael if Lucien consented to bring him.

It wasn’t the unconditional victory I wanted.

But it was an opening.

At the bottom of the letter, the council secretary had added a final note.

The Bloodfang delegation has confirmed its attendance. Alpha Lucien Draven has requested a private discussion with Alpha Darius Veyr before the opening ceremony.

I read the sentence twice.

Lucien had agreed to meet Darius.

Not me.

Darius took the letter from my hand and examined the note.

“He wants to speak with me before the gathering begins.”

“What do you think he wants?”

“I can think of several possibilities.”

“Which one do you believe?”

His gaze met mine.

“I believe Lucien rarely requests a private meeting unless he intends to gain something from it.”

I looked down at the letter.

For a moment, hope and dread tangled so tightly inside me that I couldn’t separate them.

Lucien was coming to Eldermere. He had agreed to meet Darius, but he had made no promise about Kael.

Whatever he wanted, he was making his first move before I had even arrived.

I folded the letter carefully.

“Then we should find out what he’s offering before he gets the chance to make demands.”

Darius’s expression hardened with approval.

“Agreed.”

I lifted my chin.

Lucien had spent years deciding what I was allowed to know, where I was allowed to go, and how much of my son’s life I was permitted to share.

That ended now.

He could arrive with his princess, his title, and every political advantage he had gathered.

I would arrive with something he had never expected me to possess.

A voice of my own.

And this time, I intended to make him listen.