<h4>Chapter 239: You Are My King</h4>


    Her throat burned with the words she wanted to say. She wanted to apologise until the walls shook with it, to tell him she was sorry for what she was about to do — for the pain he would endure, for the scars he might carry, for being the mother who handed him over to suffer. She wanted to beg him to forgive her, to understand that this choice was made with love, not malice. And yet, in the same heartbeat, she wanted to plead with him not as her child, but as the boy who would one day sit on a throne. She wanted him to endure. Toe out of the breaking not just alive, but transformed — the strongest king Blood City had ever seen.


    The weight of those thoughts pressed her down until she moved without thinking. She lowered herself to her knees beside the bed, the rough stone floor biting into her skin. Her sony there.


    She sped his hands tighter, bowing her head until her forehead almost touched the back of them. "Your Highness," she whispered, and though her voice trembled, the words came steady. "My king."


    "You are the bloodline of two royals, the best of both worlds. You are my king." She lifted her head, willing her strength into those young eyes. "I beg you, Your Majesty, live for your mother. Live for your father. Whatever it is Morvakar does to break you... it is for your own good. To ensure your future."


    "Do not let your mother go to her grave with the guilt of your death. Please, Your Highness. You carry the strength of the Dragos — the fire, the fury. And the tenacity of the Sinirs — unyielding, unbroken. You must be infallible."


    Sobs wracked her soul so violently she could barely shape another word. Her chest heaved, and each breath was a fight between needing air and choking on grief. "Please... your highness," she whispered. Her lips brushed his knuckles with the reverence of a subject before their ruler, though she was his mother first,st, and always.


    Her vision blurred, but she forced herself to keep looking at him. Whether he heard her or not, she had no idea. Still, she needed to tell him. Needed him to understand. He had to listen. He was her son — her flesh, her blood — and he must listen.


    *****


    Damien sat on the edge of the bed as though the weight of the world — and the woman he loved — was pressing him down. His bare chest rose and fell, each breath slow and uneven. His head hung low, buried in his hands, but his closed eyes betrayed him. Behind them, the images came unbidden. He could see her.


    The curve of Luna’s lips when sheughed — that warm, throaty sound that made the air in the room richer somehow. The way her eyes would roll when he teased her, and yet, beneath the feigned exasperation, a smile always tugged at her mouth. He could see the exact moment her legs would tighten around him in passion, her toes curling, her body arching as if she could wrap herself around his very soul. He remembered the flushed glow of her face afterwards, the rare unguarded tenderness in her gaze when they were alone.


    shes of memory tangled together — the vows they spoke on their wedding day, the coronation where she stood by his side, every public smile and private whisper they’d ever shared. They collided inside him, each memory both salvation and torture. His hands curled into fists against his temples as his body trembled, the longing so sharp it bordered on agony.


    It was as if his very soul was reaching out, wing through the void between them, willing her toe back to him. Come back. Come back. And yet, she did not appear. The empty space beside him on the bed was colder than stone.


    This... this was a resort he never thought he would sumb to. He had always been prepared to go to his grave loving one woman and one woman only, withoutpromise, without surrender. He had been content — strong — in that loyalty. But now? Now the thought of losing her was a wound so deep he didn’t know if he would survive it.


    He looked at the bed — their bed — the one where so many nights had been soaked in love, in heat, in whispered promises that had felt unbreakable at the time.


    And he wept.


    He had once begged her to promise him that if it ever came to this, she would fight for him. Fight for them. Fight for their bond, no matter the odds. She had promised with trembling lips and fierce eyes that she would.


    But staring at the empty side of the bed, he knew with a bone-deep certainty that she hade to the end of fighting for anything. And in that moment, he made his own vow. If she had nothing left to give to the world, then he would give for both of them. He would protect her, shield her from every battle, even if it meant stepping into the darkness himself. Even if it meant bing something unrecognizable — a monster wearing a crown.


    He inhaled slowly, a sharp burn behind his eyes. The thought of what "needed to be done" settled heavy in his gut. It would cost him pieces of his soul. But if the price of her peace was his damnation, then so be it. The king straightened his spine, wiping the tear tracks from his face. Monsters could still love, after all.


    *****


    Alpha King Kyllian stalked through the gates of the fortress with Talon and a squad of gammas at his back. They had just returned from scouring the vicinity of where Luna and Doctor Thessa had been abducted, and every step back into the stronghold felt like a retreat, like defeat.


    Useless. The word cut him every time it echoed in his mind. And when it came to Luna, he had always been just that — useless.