<h4>Chapter 313: Be Good For Leora</h4>


    When it was over, he copsed on top of her. His lips pressed to her temple.


    Luna wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, her tears hot against his skin.


    He pulled her closer, cradling her. His hand slid down her body. His thumb stroked her skin.


    And though her heart broke at the absence of his voice, her body knew, her soul knew—he was still hers. Every thrust, every kiss, every trembling touch had told her what his lips could not.


    *****


    Luna was up before Damien the next morning. She slid from their bed quietly, careful not to wake him. She showered and dressed up quickly. Before leaving, she stole into the nursery. Her sony in deep sleep. She bent over him, inhaled his baby-sweet scent, and kissed his forehead.


    "Be good for Leora," she whispered, then turned to give Leora instructions.


    As she walked the long stretch of stone corridor leading out of the castle, regret trailed after her. She had made a terrible mistake. She had doubted Damien.


    The morning air bit her cheeks when she stepped into the outer courtyard. Guards saluted as she passed. The path to the castle prisons was long and winding.


    When she arrived at the gates, the guards bowed deeply, and though none dared speak, she sensed their unease. The prisons were the king’s dominion, not the queen’s. Still, they let her through.


    Talon was chained in the farthest cell, his once-broad body broken down to a pitiful wreck. His skin boreshes and burns, and his blood had dried into dark maps across his torso. Yet his spirit flickered stubbornly in his eyes when they lifted to meet hers.


    "Princess...I don’t want you to see me like this."


    Luna’s heart squeezed painfully. She crouched down to her knees until she was at eye level with him.


    Lowering her voice into a whisper so that not even vampiric ears could catch her words, she leaned close. "Listen to me carefully. I need the truth. Do you understand? Don’t you dare lie to me, Talon."


    "I would never dare," Talon said atst. His lips cracked as he spoke.


    Luna swallowed hard, her throat burning with unshed tears. "When the Alpha King came to see you...what were his instructions?"


    "Princess..." Talon shook his head, chains clinking faintly against the wall as he shifted. His eyes, dark as fresh ink, flickered with hesitation.


    Luna’s hand darted forward and grasped his wrist. "Talon, please. Whatever you tell me right now—" her breath hitched, "—could save my marriage."


    Talon closed his eyes briefly. "He instructed me to take the pain and the me. I am to confess that you gave the order for me to attack Isolde." His gaze flicked to hers.


    The smile that broke across her face was wide and unrestrained, joy bursting from her.


    "Thank you, Talon," she breathed. "Thank you. I promise, I will make this up to you. I will give you the entire world. Hell—" she leaned in, reckless with gratitude, "—I’ll give you my throne if I could."


    A wry chuckle escaped his split lips. "It’s quite alright, Princess. Besides—" he winced as he shifted against the chains, "—these vampires hit like a bitch."


    Luna barked out augh, hand flying to her mouth to stifle it.


    On instinct, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the top of his matted hair.


    Rising to her feet, Luna walked back through the rows of cells.


    By the time she stepped into the cold morning light again, Luna felt like a new woman.


    Luna’s next stop was Isolde — the meeting she’d been circling in her mind. The path to the Concubines’ castles unfurled. Servants scurried at the edges, eyes lowered. Natasha saw her approach and dipped low in a practiced bow. There was a twitch of rm at the corners of Natasha’s mouth — she recognized the sharpness in Luna’s stride.


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    Luna didn’t give the servants time to deliver any formalities. She moved through the doors into Isolde’s quarters.


    Isolde rose as Luna entered but she didn’t bend her head. Her posture was a deliberate refusal, dangerous rebellion that had kept her safe in a court of knives. Luna circled her like a lioness circling prey.


    "I made a big mistake, Isolde. A big one...I underestimated you." She let a faint chuckle slip out. "You are a snake no one seesing."


    "You won’t have the chance to make any more mistakes." There was an odd serenity in her stance, as if the life inside her shielded her.


    "I am not used to people fighting from the shadows," Luna said. "I like to know my enemies. I admit, this is a first. But I will crush you, Isolde. I don’t care if you have the King on your side." The thought of being outwitted by a nobody stung but it was time to use her wits too. "I will kill you and the little bastard you carry too."


    For a dizzy second Luna imagined the court’s reaction at her threat.


    Luna held Isolde’s gaze, refusing to blink, refusing to look away. "You can run to the council," she said. "You can even run to my husband." Her lips curved in a mocking smile.


    "A husband you stole." Isolde stood poised.


    "Ah yes," Luna purred, tilting her head back slightly. "And what a delicious steal. Satisfying, even." She let her eyelids flutter closed, deliberately indulgent, inhaling deeply. The vision of his hands on her body, his mouth iming her with desperate hunger, filled her chest until her pulse quickened.


    She opened her eyes again, letting them glitter with that remembered pleasure. The effect was taunting, erotic, cruel. A deliberate reminder that while Isolde could cradle his child, Luna still possessed his body, his bond, and his madness.


    "You have a small window," Isolde countered, "to enjoy the little you have left."


    "I will give you the same advice," she said. "You will leave this castle in a body bag, Isolde. And I will be the one to kill you."