<h4>Chapter 283: Why Would We?</h4>


    "Your highness," Luna greeted smoothly.


    "Why would we?" Damien shot back instantly, his re sharp enough to cut ss. His hand slid around Luna’s waist as if to emphasize the point—this was his wife, his queen, his everything, and damned if Kyllian thought otherwise.


    "Nice to have you back, princess." He didn’t even look at Damien when he said it, his eyes squarely on Luna.


    "It’s Queen. She is the Queen of Blood City," Damien argued.


    "And here, she is still our princess."


    Luna sighed in exasperation, stepping between them before sparks turned into ws. She pressed a palm against Damien’s chest and cast Kyllian a look that begged for civility. "Okay, before this bes a full-blown war, can both of you promise me that in the time we are here, you will try to get along? Or I swear, I will leave you both behind and head up the mountains for some peace and quiet."


    Both men stiffened at the thought, their eyes darting to her. The idea of Luna vanishing into the mountains—away from them, away from their reach—was enough to crack their stubborn pride.


    They looked at each other then, both unwilling to bend but both unwilling to lose her.


    "Fine," they both said at once, the reluctant word heavy with tension.


    Luna exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. "Goddess help me," she muttered under her breath.


    "Still knows how to keep us in line. Guess some things never change."


    Damien growled low in his throat, tugging Luna closer until her back pressed against his chest.


    Luna groaned, her head tipping back against Damien’s shoulder. "I should have brought earplugs."


    "Actually, I need your help with something. Will you pleasee with me?" His eyes flicked toward Luna, "You cane too." His gaze cut briefly to Damien.


    "I didn’t need your permission to go with my wife," Damien snapped. His hand tightened around Luna’s waist, staking his im in the most primal way.


    Luna spun around, eyes shing as she skewered him with a re sharp enough to make the king himself look sheepish.


    "Sorry," Damien muttered, raising both hands. He fell in step behind her anyway, obedient—for now.


    The three of them walked through the castle’s halls. Servants bowed as they passed.


    "I found a woman in the woods, pregnant, beaten within an inch of her life," Kyllian said.


    "Oh..." Luna’s brows drew together. "Do you know who did it?"


    "Not yet. That’s the problem. She is still unconscious. She is a werewolf, and yet she’s healing far too slowly."


    "That is strange," Luna murmured. "Maybe...a dormant wolf?"


    Kyllian shook his head, frustration etched in the lines of his face. "But even a dormant wolf would heal faster than this. That’s not the strange part." He hesitated then. "When I met her, I had the strong urge to bow. To submit to her."


    Luna halted mid-step, her head snapping toward him, disbelief shing across her face. "That’s not possible. You are the Alpha King."


    "Exactly." Kyllian said.


    "It basically means the woman wields more authority than you possess." Damien chipped in.


    Kyllian’s nostrils red, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Not yet. "But why just me? The doctors have been to see her. The maids have been going in and out. None of them reported the same...urge."


    "A mate?" Luna offered. It was the simplest exnation.


    Kyllian lifted a brow.


    "Oh, that would be so refreshing," Damien sighed theatrically.


    "It’s not a mate bond," Kyllian snapped, his patience thinning.


    "Such a shame." Damien’s smile turned wolfish. "Maybe then, you would finally stop nipping at my wife’s heels like some desperate mutt begging for scraps."


    Luna’s hand twitched, tempted to smack him. "For goddess’s sake, Damien! And Lucivar thinks I am the petty one," she snapped, exasperation spilling over.


    "Sorry," Damien muttered.


    Her lips pressed into a thin, dangerous line. "If you tell me sorry one more time..." she warned.


    Damien’s smirk faltered. Just slightly. "Noted," he muttered, because even kings knew when their queen had run out of patience.


    "I just want to know if you have seen anything like this." Kyllian cut through the tension as he stopped in front of a door. Without waiting for a reply, he pushed it open, the wood groaning against the iron hinges.


    He strolled in with purposeful strides, his shoulders squared. Damien followed behind, his gait rxed.


    Luna halted at the threshold, her fingers curling around the frame, her chest tightening as a strange pressure washed over her.


    Damien turned back, his sharp eyes softening when they found her frozen there. "Moonlight," he murmured. "You okay?"


    Luna swallowed, forcing her lungs to expand. She lifted her chin, queen once more.


    "It’s not the mate bond, Kyllian," she answered.


    "How do you know?" Kyllian asked.


    "Because I have the sudden urge to submit too," she announced. Her knees almost buckled at the weight of it.


    All three of them turned as one, to look toward the bed. The woman was still lying there. Her chest rose and fell slowly, her lips parted, hershes dark crescents against pale skin. A sleeping beauty. Even unconscious, she bent the room to her gravity.


    Damien let out a dryugh. "What made you think we would catch a break in werewolf territory again?" he asked.


    *****


    Williams truly didn’t understand it—the way Damien’s bond with the werewolf seemed to eclipse everything else, even the tie he shared with Isolde. It gnawed at him. He’d once had a mate too; he knew the pull, the way it stripped you bare, left you raw and starving for touch, for scent, for the sound of their voice.


    Vampire mate bonds weren’t meant to be broken. And yet Damien stood in grant defiance of nature’sws, almost indifferent when he saw Isolde again.


    It rattled Williams to his core. How did his father do it? The question kept circling his thoughts. Holding the moon still? Manipting desire? A dangerous kind of genius. To dream of such power and never taste it—that was torment.


    Still, his immediate concern was Isolde. She had folded into herself sincest night, curled in the same bed, in the same dress, refusing to move.


    Her weakness might have been something he could use to his advantage, but gods, it was nauseating to even watch. Williams leaned against the archway, arms folded, staring at her. The Blood Goddess, in her infinite cruelty, had tethered the King of Blood City to this trembling mess? The irony was acidic on Williams’ tongue. Strip away the queen’s werewolf blood, and Luna was formidable. Williams, despite himself, had been impressed more than once. That woman was me and steel. Isolde, byparison, was ash.


    "How long are you going to stay this way?" Williams finally asked.


    "Just leave me alone. You have nothing to offer me," she hissed. She didn’t even lift her head.


    Williams sighed, a dramatic exhales. He tilted his head, watching her with the faintest trace of pity. "I underestimated the bond between the king and the queen," he admitted, honesty slipping past his usual mask of mockery. "I apologise. But soon," he added, his eyes gleaming with dark promise, "you will have the weapon you need to take the queen down and start a war with the werewolves."


    "You keep saying that!" Isolde spat, her sudden re of temper making him arch a brow in amusement.


    "Give it time." His smile was infuriatingly calm.


    "Just go. I want to be alone."


    "First, where is the ne Gabriel gave you?" Williams asked.


    "The king took it," she whispered.


    A slow, impressed smile curved over Williams’ lips. Damien had taken the ne, handed it to Morvakar, and Morvakar—damn him—had rerouted the spell to find Williams instead. Genius. Pure, dangerous genius. "Magnificent," Williams murmured, reverence threaded through the sybles.


    His mind flicked back to the previous night—Morvakar flirting shamelessly with the doctordy, the way she flushed under his teasing. Williams had been watching. Then there was his father’s smile. He deserved it.


    Williams had taken a step closer, but then—he was sensed.


    He had watched amused as his father kept going in circles looking for him when all the while, he was right behind him.


    *****


    Luna was just lowering Magnus into his cot, humming under her breath, when the door creaked softly and Kyllian slipped in. Her son’sshes fluttered against plump cheeks, his tiny fists uncurling as he drifted into sleep. She lingered, brushing a hand over the nket.


    "What’s it like?"


    She turned, brows furrowed. "What?"


    His eyes fixed on Magnus. "To have a child. To be responsible for such a tiny being?"


    Luna chuckled, warmth curling in her chest. "Are you thinking of having one of your own, Kyllian?" she teased.


    "It has to happen at some point." He shrugged. "I was trying with Jane. Up until her treachery was found out." Luna’s heart softened. Kyllian was loyal to a fault, and betrayal had always cut him deeper than the sharpest de.


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