<h4>Chapter 226: Keep Your Head Down</h4>


    Gabriel exhaled heavily, his breath hissing out between his teeth. For the first time in centuries, fear gripped him. "I shouldn’t have trusted you with the men," he said quietly.


    "Keep your head down. No one can find this ce. No one can link the rogue vampires to you unless you show them the way."


    "I swear to everything holy, if this swings the wrong way, I’m going to rip out your heart myself."


    The promise was bone-deep. Gabriel’s gaze lingered on Williams for a beat longer, as if daring him to smirk again, before he turned sharply and disappeared.


    *****


    "I cannot work in a ce like this." Doctor Thessa stood just inside the threshold, her gloved hands clutching her bag to her chest


    She nced around the cramped, circr chamber. The bed in the center was nothing more than a b of stone with a mattress, unfit for any procedure involving a queen and her unborn heir. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head.


    "Make do." Morvakar said as he ced Luna on the bed. His gaze was locked on her. Shey sprawled on the bed, her skin pale as moonlight, her breath shallow. "Get the child out of her now!"


    Thessa hesitated for only a moment before setting her bag on the table beside Luna. She began muttering a rapid list of supplies—antiseptics, warm water, clean linens. Her fingers moved quickly, rifling through her bag as if every second shaved away the queen’s chance of survival.


    Morvakar pivoted without another word, already heading for the narrow exit to retrieve what she demanded. But then—


    "No! Don’t leave me." Luna’s cry was desperate. Her eyes, zed with pain, found him as if it were thest anchor keeping her tethered to the world.


    "I will be back. I promise. Just need to follow the good doctor’s orders here." His tone softened, the jagged edges of his usual arrogance dulled by tenderness. He reached out, brushing his fingers briefly against her wrist—cool skin against fevered warmth—before stepping away.


    "Your Highness, it’s time to push. There is no other way to make this easy for you."


    Thessa said. Her hands were steady, but her eyes betrayed the truth—this was going to be brutal.


    The underground chamber seemed to close in around them, themplight dimming as if the very air conspired to smother them both.


    Luna nodded weakly, her lips pale but determined, and did as instructed. Every muscle in her body was tearing apart, but she pushed with everyst shred of strength she could summon. Sweat trickled down her temples, mixing with strands of hair stered to her face, and her nails dug into the thin sheets beneath her. Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, her eyes momentarily squeezing shut against the agony. Somewhere deep within her, she clung to the image of Damien’s face—the way his gaze could strip her defenses bare—and it gave her thest burst of will she needed to push harder.


    Meanwhile, aboveground, Morvakar moved swiftly through the hidden corridors of the castle, his keen senses stretched to their limits. The faint, bitter scent of approaching magic brushed against him, warning of another presence drawing near. He swept the room for the list of items Doctor Thessa had demanded, his mind half on the queen he’d left below, half on the person he saw through the window drawing closer, bloodied and battered.


    He headed back underground. The moment he stepped through the archway into the dim chamber, the sight that met him stopped him dead in his tracks.


    Luna was there, slumped back on the tiny, makeshift bed. Her face was ashen, the battle she had just fought written in every exhausted line of her body, but she was alive. In her trembling arms was the child—a perfect, small, squirming bundle wrapped in a worn cloth. Even in her battered state, there was a softness in her gaze as she looked down at the infant, one that stripped away the walls Morvakar had built over centuries.


    He broke into a wide smile. The sight was more than beautiful—it was history breathing in front of him. The first true-blood child born of a werewolf, a living testament to magic that had defied nature itself. For all his cunning, all his dark experiments, this moment was proof that he truly was the master of sorcery.


    "You did it," Morvakar said, the words carrying praise.


    Luna chuckled tiredly. "I did. It’s a boy." She lowered her gaze back to the child as though the world beyond the two of them no longer mattered.


    Morvakar stepped closer. "Oh, Talon, the werewolf is here," he murmured almost absently.


    Luna’s eyes snapped up to meet his, sharp despite her exhaustion. "No! Do not tell him you have us. I trust him, but I want to control how the news gets to Damien. Unless he himselfes here, you cannot tell anyone."


    Morvakar studied her for a long beat, the sorcerer in him respecting the tactical mind of a queen even in her weakest moment. Slowly, he nodded. "I’ll be back," he said simply.


    "Your Highness, you need to rest now," Thessa said gently. The newborn whimpered, a tiny sound that drew Luna’s tired gaze back to him instantly.


    "I can take care of the baby."


    Luna’s eyes—dull from exhaustion but still holding a fierce gleam—lifted to meet the doctor’s.


    "With your life, Thessa."


    Thessa’s spine straightened, her hands briefly brushing over the infant’s swaddled form as though sealing a silent oath. "With my life," she replied, the words carrying a weight beyond mere duty. She knew what the child meant—not just to Luna, but to an entire realm that didn’t yet know he existed.


    Outside the small room, the sorcerer sat in his parlour above. He pretended to study a cracked book though his mind was nowhere near the pages.


    The door opened and Talon entered.


    Morvakar sighed, shutting the book. "I need to put a bell at the door," he muttered flippantly, though his eyes narrowed slightly.