All Chapters of The Luna's Groom: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

P E R S E U S“Severus, finish up here,” I mutter, following the guard as my steps quicken—until soon, I’m running toward the dungeon grounds.A part of me is weighed down by guilt for locking her up this long. Another part, however, is convinced this could just be another stunt of hers.That part vanishes the moment I arrive at the ballroom.She’s in the arms of one of the guards, pale and frail, with blood trailing down her legs.“Eleanor!” I yell, as if shouting her name might bring her back in an instant. This wasn’t supposed to happen.I was only going to teach her a lesson—not this.I rush toward the guard as he gently hands her to me. She feels light—lighter than when I had carried her unconscious form back at the castle after she jumped from her balcony.A fragile wave of relief washes over me when I realize she’s still breathing. Slow, dragged breaths—but breaths nonetheless.“Get the healer,” I bark, racing toward the bedroom with her limp form in my arms.Her maid—the one I

E L E A N O R I clutch my stomach again, the emptiness gnawing at me. Trying to make sense of how a child had been growing inside me, and yet I hadn’t noticed. The realization crashes over me like a wave, a suffocating grief that drowns my breath. I was pregnant. The only connection I had left to my husband—his flesh and blood—was gone. The one hope of remembering him through a child had vanished. And all because of the same monster who took his life. I had done nothing to Perseus. I was barely recovering, still mourning my loss, yet he punishes me again. He takes away the ones that matter to me like the sick, twisted devil he is. His cruelty knows no bounds. I curl up on the bed, pulling my legs to my chest and rocking myself gently back and forth, the movement trying to soothe the storm inside my mind. I’m losing my grip, slipping further into despair with every passing moment. My sanity is hanging by the thinnest of threads. I hear voices. Dora’s voice, filled with worry. To

E L E A N O R I rub my eyes trying to confirm this isn’t part of the horrible nightmare I just had. The guard extends a hand to help me up as I take in my surroundings. I brush a few loose strands of hair from my face. I’m in a courtyard—lush, exquisite, and far larger than the one at home. But the only question circling my mind is how I got here. “I found you here, Your Majesty. Are you alright?” the guard’s voice draws my attention again. I don’t respond. I can’t find the words. Nothing is alright. I am not alright. That much is painfully clear. “I came out for a walk and um... I fell asleep,” I lie. A sharp realization hits me—I may have sleepwalked. But I brush the thought aside. I couldn’t be sleepwalking. Maybe I just got tired. Maybe Marina brought me here. couldn't be sleepwalking. “Okay. I’m Cain, your personal guard. Assigned by King Perseus.” His lips curve into a polite smile as he introduces himself. I finally glance at him—tall, blond, young, likely around

E L E A N O RThe wounds on my face had begun to heal, but the pain was unbearable—like a thousand needles stabbing into me repeatedly. Werewolves heal slower than Lycans, and my right eye was completely blind. It would take more time, and a scar would remain, though the injury itself would heal in two weeks.“Eleanor!” Marina’s voice broke through the haze as she rushed toward me. I quickly covered my face with my palm, shielding the injury.“Why would you do that to her?!” she screamed. “Guards? Anyone? Help us!”It was instinctive for her to call for help, but in hindsight, I wish she hadn’t. The events that followed only made things worse.Cain burst into the throne room, his eyes scanning the room frantically. I had told him not to accompany Marina and me during our walk for privacy’s sake. It's easy to think that if he’d been there, none of this would have happened. Assumptions are comforting, but they are also fragile.He wasn’t alone. A few maids trailed behind him, their eyes

E L E A N O RI rise to my feet, suppressing the overwhelming urge to resist—Marina’s life is at stake here. Limping, I trail behind the maids and Margaret, my mind consumed with hatred for myself. Never had I despised myself more than I did in this moment. Weak. Powerless. Stripped of any ability to protect the one person I cared about most. A tremor builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. I wouldn’t break—not in front of her.My lips quiver at the sound of ice crashing into the tub. So, this was what they'd been preparing. Large chunks float on the surface as the maids add more, their hands moving with cold, efficient precision."Strip and get in," Margaret commands, settling into the chair beside the bathroom. She catches my hesitation and tilts her head with mock curiosity. "Do you want me to push you in? This is the first step of your training. Don’t make me repeat myself." Her smile curls wickedly.I’ve never endured anything like this, but my instincts scream that ice isn’t