The voice sliced through the cold.
Luna turned slowly. Kyllian stood at the edge of the doorway, shirtless, his hair tousled.
"What?" she asked.
"You look at the forest like you left your heart there." His eyes studied her, quietly, deeply. It wasn't a flirtation—it was an observation. A too-accurate one.
"You're seeing things," she said, quickly. "I just couldn't sleep."
"Your bedroom not to your liking?" he asked, leaning lazily against the railing, pretending to be casual—but the heat in his gaze betrayed him.
"No! Gods, no. It's fine." She crossed her arms over her chest as if to ward off the sudden warmth that curled around her. "Kyllian, you don't have to pamper me."
"I don't intend to." His voice dropped lower as he stepped closer, invading the space between them.
"Well, that's good," she said, though her throat had gone dry.
"I intend to make you take your duties seriously." He was close now—too close. His breath ghosted across her collarbone, sending a ripple of goosebumps down her arms. "You cannot escape them. You cannot shelf them. Every single one of your duties."
Her heart thumped against her ribcage.
"Why does that sound like a threat?" she said, stepping back until her spine met the balcony rail. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "Do you think I can't handle being Luna?"
"I don't doubt your leadership skills. I just don't think you can handle being my wife. My mate."
Kyllian's brow ticked, just slightly. A silent pulse of tension rippled between them.
"Oooooh, Mr Big Bad," Luna said, fluttering her lashes with mock innocence. "Whatever shall I do?" She twirled theatrically, her nightdress swishing around her thighs. "You talk like there's more to you than this." Her eyes swept down his body with a smirk, deliberately provocative. A challenge.
Kyllian's eyes darkened instantly, pupils dilating. "If you knew anything about a man's anatomy, you'd know that is absolutely the wrong nightdress to wear. Especially around one you aren't married to yet."
This time, he didn't even try to look away. His gaze roamed from the delicate strap slipping off her shoulder to the tantalizing line of her thighs barely hidden under silk.
"Oh please," Luna scoffed, though her breath hitched in her throat. "Remind me again—who can't handle being a mate? You seem to be the one with the issues, not me." Her voice trembled slightly at the end, but she stood her ground.
That was the final straw.
With a low growl, Kyllian closed the distance between them in a blink. One hand braced the railing behind her, the other caged her in by her waist. Luna suddenly found herself pinned—pressed between the cold metal and a furnace of muscle and male frustration.
Oh. His hips moved closer. He made no effort to hide the very real, very hard evidence of his arousal. It pressed against her stomach with an authority that made her lose her train of thought entirely.
Kyllian leaned down until his lips were grazing her ear. "I'm trying to be a gentleman, princess. But for every challenging little remark out of that mouth of yours, I'm going to make you pay on our wedding night. I will draw out your first orgasm until you weep in my arms," he whispered, his breath warm against her neck. "I will torture every inch of your body until you beg for release. I will worship you…in the most pleasurable ways…until you forget your name and remember only mine."
She blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed again.
She didn't even know what half of that meant, but her knees turned to jelly.
She clutched the rail behind her.
Kyllian stepped back slowly, smirking at her flushed cheeks and parted lips. "Enjoy the next few days, wife."
"Get some sleep," Kyllian said, barely hiding the smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Your instructor will be here first thing in the morning."
He walked off like a man who hadn't just emotionally and hormonally wrecked someone's daughter, the curve of his shorts betraying exactly how much fun he didn't plan on having. Luna's eyes dropped, just once, against her better judgment, but it was enough for Kyllian to catch. He smirked like the devil himself as he disappeared around the corner, leaving Luna flushed and flustered.
*****
Damien stared at the letter again, as if the words might change if he read them a fourth time.
'The princess has left to stay at Alpha Kyllian's packhouse for a few days.'
A few days.
He'd told himself it would be fine. That he was strong enough. That he wasn't some lovesick fool who would spiral into madness just because she was with someone else.
But he was a lovesick fool, apparently. And the spiral? Oh, it was happening in style.
Ignoring a mate bond wasn't just difficult—it was excruciating. It wasn't just missing someone. It was like trying to breathe with half your lungs, like moving with a broken spine. Especially for vampires. The bond wasn't optional; it was coded into their very existence. Rejection didn't just sting. Your strength faded. Your hunger dulled. You became... less.
And Damien was already less.
Dragging himself into the throne room, he forced his shoulders square. "Good morning, Father," he said.
King Lucivar, poised on his obsidian-carved throne, didn't look up from the scroll he was signing. "Morning." He paused, then added with the flair of a man who had always been dramatic, "Is there a reason why your royal mistress complains she hasn't seen you since you got back?"
Damien blinked. "What is she bitching about now? I've been back like… three days."
Lucivar finally looked up, pinning his son with a pointed glare. "We did mention that you need an heir to take the throne, no? How is she supposed to produce one if you won't even do your duty?"
Damien bristled. "It's only been a few days, Father. A few days of cleaning up rogue vampire attacks and managing council affairs, which, might I remind you, is actually my duty."
"Damien, give up on the search already," Lucivar groaned. "It's been centuries. You've waited for a mate longer than some empires have lasted. Seliora…"
"Father, please, not now," Damien cut in sharply, the bite in his tone enough to silence even the boldest of kings. He paced the room, long fingers twitching at his sides. "I'm a vampire. I do have all the time in the world."
Lucivar scoffed into his cup. "Time, yes. Common sense, no"
Damien ignored him.
"Fine," the king relented with a sigh. "I received an invitation today. King Magnus' daughter is getting married. There's going to be a whole royal mating ceremony. I assume you forgot to mention this tiny detail when you got back?"