<h4>Chapter 67: Ruelle - Take It All</h4>
Kyllian’s hand flexed around his ss, a silent rehearsal of how easily he could m it into Damien’s face.
He stood still, not because hecked a response. Not because the urge to nt his fist into the vampire’s aristocratic jaw wasn’t white-hot. But because Luna was still in the room, and this was not the ce, nor the time. Not at her party. Not on the day she was finallyughing again.
A young server tripped over the edge of a rug while bncing a tray of wine sses. The collective gasp from the nearby guests was immediate, and one unfortunate ss of red wine flew from the tray.
It struck Luna.
A ssh of crimson stained the front of her dress in a tragic arc. Luna looked down at the mess, blinked, and exhaled a slow breath through her nose.
"Well," she said with admirableposure, "I guess this dress had a death wish."
The poor server looked like he might pass out. "Your Highness, I...I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean..."
"It’s fine," Luna said gently, already waving it off. "It’s just wine. I’m going to change."
As soon as she disappeared down the corridor, Kyllian turned to Damien. "For your information, I’m helping her remember what it means to live."
Damien arched an eyebrow. "And I’m trying to make sure she doesn’t die."
They stared at each other in silence, both breathing hard, both wearing smiles that didn’t touch their eyes.
A maid approached, awkwardly holding a tter of cake slices between them like a peace offering. Neither of them took one.
Luna hurried through the corridors, her now-stained gown clinging to her legs, the fabric already stiffening from the wine. Each hurried step echoed like a drumbeat through the quiet halls, the sound strangely loud in the sudden absence of voices, music, andughter. The party had felt like another world entirely, one where she had allowed herself to believe, just for a heartbeat, that life could be normal again.
The castle’s guards, usually posted at the corners of every wing, were conspicuously absent. Most of them had been repositioned outside, stationed along the grounds for the event. That made sense. Logical. But logic didn’t settle the crawling sensation creeping up her spine, the eerie sensation that she was being watched.
She slowed slightly, ncing over her shoulder, but the corridor behind her remained empty. She exhaled, shook her head, and turned back.
Paranoia. That was all it was. She had been on edge for weeks, living between the ticking of an invisible countdown.
Still, her hand slid almost instinctively to the dagger at her waist, the one Damien had just given her. Her fingers curled around the sheath. The weapon hummed with deadly promise, a strange and unexpectedfort. She allowed herself a tiny, ironic smile. <subt>freew\e bnovel</subt>
This was definitely romance. For some it was flowers and poems. For her? Tactical giftsced with silver and volcanic ss.
She continued down the corridor, heels clicking a little faster than before.
That’s when she heard a hiss.
Her spine locked. Her heart mmed. Her neck snapped around, eyes scanning behind her.
"Who’s there?" she called, voice sharper than she expected, braver than she felt. <subt>f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m</subt>
Her pulse thudded in her ears. The weight of the dagger in her hand reassured her, but only slightly.
She took a few slow, deliberate steps toward where she thought the sound hade from, dagger now unsheathed in her hand.
"Show yourself!" she barked.
Still nothing.
But she didn’t rx this time. Instead, she shifted her stance into a fighter’s pose. One meant for someone who had no intention of running.
She pivoted sharply, turning in the opposite direction with her dagger still clenched in her hand. Her instincts had fully kicked in now. Shoulders squared, feet ced with deliberate care, she moved. Every creak of the castle felt like a threat.
Then she heard footsteps..
She whirled around, fury rising like a tide. "For fuck’s sake, get yourself out in the open and stop hiding in the shadows like a fucking coward!" she roared.
And as if summoned by her rage, he emerged.
From a side passage partially cloaked in shadow, a man stepped forward. His eyes gleamed. Even from several feet away, Luna could tell he was a vampire "Who are you?".
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, his lips parted, and he began to mutter quickly.
d’ hypo dynamei, exelkeo pothon;"
The words weren’t just sound, they hit her like a wave. They slithered under her skin, pressed against her mind. Luna blinked rapidly. "What the hell are you saying?!" she shouted, but her feet began to betray her.
No.
She wasn’t going to freeze. She wasn’t going to fall
"You messed with the wrong princess," she growled through gritted teeth, fighting the unnatural pull on her limbs. She knew from stories told that this was the legendary Morvakar.
Morvakar continued walking forward. His fingers danced through the air in rhythmic, purposeful gestures.
"Monos d’ haimatoeis posis algea lugra
It was beautiful and terrible all at once. Old Magic. The kind of power you didn’t see anymore because no one sane dared touch it.
Luna surged forward with a burst of energy she didn’t know she had. The dagger Damien gave her shed in her hand. She aimed for his chest. <subt>fre ewe bnove l</subt>
But the moment the second sentence passed his lips, it was like gravity failed her.
Her body stuttered mid-motion. The momentum that should have carried her forward stopped with unnatural precision. It was as if invisible hands grabbed her mid-air and held her.
The sensation gripped Luna with the force of a thousand volts coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just pain, it came with a feverish eruption beneath her skin, a primal electric wildfire licking at every nerve ending. Her breathing hitched, shallow and quick, as her body betrayed her, rebelling against her mind’s urgentmands. Her limbs trembled. Her nipples hardened beneath her gown, sensitive and alive, betraying the magic’s invasive nature. It knew her, targeted her biology, her desires, her instincts. Her dagger was all that tethered her to sanity.