<h4>Chapter 150: Justin Timbeke - Cry Me A River</h4>


    "Lord Gabriel says there is no pregnancy. Is this true?" Damien continued, almost as if he didn’t want to say the words.


    "Yes," Mira answered simply.


    Damien took a step back, as though struck by an invisible hand. His eyes went wide, disoriented, flickering toward Seliora who was already copsing under the weight of her guilt.


    <subt></subt>


    "Seliora?" he said.


    "I’m sorry," she whispered through hupped sobs. "I’m so sorry."


    "Seliora..." he breathed, each syble torn from his chest. "No... goddess, no, you didn’t."


    She tried to reach for him, but even she knew it was useless. The court was silent. No one moved. The truth had been set free.


    "And as your father has epted this deal," Gabriel said, stepping forward as though ready to seize a crown, "Luciver steps down from the throne immediately."


    He turned to the king with a smugness that was practically glowing from his skin.


    Damien spun around to face his father, panic lighting his features. "Father, no. He’s manipting the council."


    Luciver only smiled.


    "A deal is a deal," the king said simply, folding his hands across hisp. "And it is high time Prince Damien takes over anyways."


    "I was going to announce it after the wedding," Luciver saidzily.


    "Oh, but you see, Prince Damien cannot take over the throne without the possibility of a Royal heir," Gabriel said, each wordced with venomous delight. "A true blood royal heir." He stepped forward, the smugness radiating off him thick enough to choke the air.


    Councilman Richard, who had been watching Gabriel with growing disgust, finally had enough. "Lord Gabriel, enough of this madness. You dishonor the royal line with every breath you take."


    Gabriel spun around sharply. "I would tread carefully if I were you, Councilman Richard. You are speaking to your future king!"


    The room shuddered in silence. Seliora, still quietly weeping looked up in rm. Damien, meanwhile, looked like a man watching his entire bloodline bnce on the tip of a sword. He stood helplessly, his chest rising and falling, rage and guilt storming in his eyes. His gaze found his father—who met it with a faint, sardonic smile.


    "But there is a true blood royal heir on its way, Lord Gabriel."


    A hush fell. Every head turned with a sharp snap toward the sound.


    Luna stepped forward, her back straight, her chin high. She was already royalty, not by name but by bearing. Her heartbeat was thudding in her chest, a primal rhythm of fear, fire, and faith. She prayed—silently, frantically—that Morvakar was right about her child’s genes. That her baby would not only be a symbol of love and legacy... but of power. Enough power to shut Gabriel’s arrogant mouth.


    "I am with child," she announced. "A true blood child."


    Gasps rippled through the council. Gabriel stared at her as if she’d just imed the sun bowed to her.


    And then, heughed.


    A low, mocking, kind ofugh. "You?" he sneered, turning on his heel. "You are a werewolf. The union of a werewolf and a vampire equals a hybrid." He smiled condescendingly. "Everyone knows that."


    Luna tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes glinting. She turned to Damien briefly, brushing her fingers against his as she passed him. "Trust me," she whispered, soft enough for only him to hear.


    His heart clenched, and even though everything in the room felt like a trap, he nodded.


    Then she faced Gabriel, unafraid. "The truth that we have kept from the court all this time to protect my image to my own people," she said, "the truth is that I am not just a werewolf."


    "I am the hybrid. The result of a forbidden bond. Born of vampire and werewolf blood. The child of two worlds."


    Murmurs exploded through the chamber. Luna’s gaze never wavered. She stepped closer to Gabriel, meeting his eyes, daring him to speak again.


    "The union of a hybrid and a vampire," she said slowly, savoring every syble, "equals true blood."


    Gabriel’s triumphant expression cracked, just slightly. His lips twitched. His jaw clenched. Luna gave him a smile.


    "Not all the time, Princess Luna," Luciver said, arching a brow at her. He reclined slightly on the throne, clearly enjoying the chaos.


    Councilman Richard, who had only moments ago been fighting to maintain order, now looked as though he were unraveling the threads of a very tangled sweater. "And how did you be a hybrid?" he asked. "Both your parents are werewolves."


    Luna turned to face him directly, standing with a poise that only years of royal training. "Because my mother sought the help of a certain vampire sorcerer when she was desperate for a child," she said. "He manipted my genes to create a mate for Prince Damien specifically."


    Her gaze slid toward Damien then, softening as she tilted her neck to the side and revealed the distinct vampire mark on her smooth skin. "We only just found out after Prince Damien ced his mark on me."


    "Morvakar..." Lord Gabriel breathed aloud, his lips barely moving.


    "Yes..." Luna’s smile curved slowly as she turned her head toward Gabriel. "Morvakar. The only sorcerer powerful enough to pull something like that off." She folded her hands in front of her calmly, a perfect picture of elegance.


    Luciver, bless him, roared withughter from the throne. "Someone just shot himself in the foot!" he bellowed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. He pped Damien on the back. "Send for Sage Veyron immediately. Bring him here now. I don’t care if he doesn’t like to leave his house. I want him to examine the princess if she truly carries a true blood!"


    "A turned vampire in the throne room!" Gabriel argued, clearly grasping at thest crumbling pirs of his n. "You really have gone mad, Luciver."


    Luciver gave him a look so scathing and bored, it might as well have been a yawn. "Do you know why I got the throne and not you? Our father thought you were the mad one. The extremist. For a race who lives forever, your kind is thest thing we need. He gave the throne to the son of his concubine not his queen because he knew you are an asshole."


    "Your mother manipted our father." Gabriel growled.


    "My mother was the forgotten one," Luciver replied coolly. "She was just a speck of dust in this ce. A background whisper. Your mother was the favorite one, the beloved queen, the loved mate."


    "You were the shining heir—or so you thought," Luciver continued, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to his brother. "I was sent off to the academy to learn how to manage a council, while you were being paraded, learning the ways of the throne."


    The court watched, spellbound. Luna’s eyes flickered to Damien, who was on edge, ready to intervene if things escted, though even he knew Luciver’s wrath was more elegant than brutal.


    "And then you killed a turned vampire," Luciver said, "for winning a friendly spar against a true blood. It wasn’t even you in the match. But your pride—your obsession with bloodlines and status—couldn’t bear to see a so-called lesser vampire victorious."


    "Our father saw the monster that you are," Luciver finished.


    "Say what you want. Believe what you want," Gabriel spat, hisposure unraveling. "It was a mistake to make you king. You are a damned pussy! You are mad!"


    "Mad kings were always known to be the greatest ones," he said. Slowly, he approached Luna. She stood there, spine straight, a calm storm in the center of the room.


    Luciver’s hand extended to her gently, as if she were a priceless relic he now entrusted with the weight of an empire. "You, my dear girl," he said, "are magnificent."


    He turned, addressing the stunned council with amanding flourish. "She will make a great queen, won’t she?"


    Councilman Richard cleared his throat and bowed slightly. "Indeed, Your Grace. She has shown courage and honor."


    One or two others murmured in agreement, mostly to avoid direct eye contact with Luciver, who was now in full kingly swagger.


    Meanwhile, Gabriel stood frozen. His blood-boiling fury was now eclipsed by humiliation and a creeping realization: he had not only failed to bring down Luciver—he had identally handed the crown more firmly into Luna’s grasp.


    Luciver grinned wider. "Now, let’s summon Veyron and have him confirm the pregnancy."


    Gabriel’s face was still frozen. "You think you have won," he said. The words were meant for Luciver, but his eyes, shadowed with rage, never left Luna.


    But it wasn’t Luciver who responded.


    "Not yet, Lord Gabriel." Luna stepped forward slightly, chin raised, one hand lightly resting on her belly. "Once Sage Veyron gets here and I am examined, then we would have won."


    Luciver lifted a single ringden hand and snapped his fingers.


    "Guards!" he called, the echo ofmand striking the air. The heavy double doors burst open with impressive drama and two guards entered.


    (I don’t know what to do with Seliora yet. Does she deserve to be imprisoned, banished or executed?"