Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“I missed you too,” Vincent clearly uttered.

“Hush,” He comforted me and rubbed my back when I started to sob. My emotions were getting the best of me.

“I know I’m very handsome, but you don’t need to cry,” He tried to lighten up my mood with a jest. I chuckled and playfully slapped his shoulders.

We broke the hug, and he gently wiped the tears off my cheeks.

“You’ve changed,” He remarked, his gaze set on my face.

“Really?” I asked, not out of confusion but to press him to elaborate.

“I can’t explain it,” He chuckled, taking my hand and guiding me to turn. I laughed softly.

“You look beautiful,” He commented, but instead of being grateful, my brows furrowed.

“So, I was ugly before?” I pouted my lips and crossed my arms.

“What? No! You look more beautiful now,” He gestured at me, scanning me from head to toe.

“So, I wasn’t as pretty as before?” I was pretending to be offended.

“You are pretty, of course,” he grinned.

“Then are you asking why I look more beautiful now?” I inquired. He appeared perplexed, struggling to find the right words to avoid my fury.

Well, I was irritated. More beautiful, my foot! Did he imply I wasn’t very beautiful before? That I wasn’t as pretty, and now I’ve somehow upgraded?

“Or perhaps he prefers wealthier women, and now, since I am wrapped in gold from head to toe, am I suddenly more attractive to him? Is that why I wasn’t considered pretty before? Because I wasn’t wealthy?”

“Never mind,” He conceded, but I wasn’t prepared to drop the topic yet.

I was about to voice my thoughts when he gently nudged me.

“We need to go back; you don’t want them to wonder where you are and why you’re talking to me. We’re both on a mission,” He urged, guiding me back to the banquet hall.

“Wait…” But we were already retreating into the hidden alcove. He swiftly left, his steps marked by urgency. I bit my lip in frustration. I’ll give you a hard beating next time we meet. How dare you insinuate I was ugly.

“My Lady,” Another noble Lord greeted me.

If there was one thing I noticed tonight, it was that most men extended their courtesies to me, pledging their assistance, while the ladies either bore judgment in their gazes or concealed it behind their lips.

It didn’t particularly matter anyway. It wouldn’t make a difference even if they all swore their loyalty and allegiance. This was all an act until I created a concrete plan.

It was foolish of me to attend this gathering empty-handed. Was ‘shitty’ an appropriate word? Whatever.

“So, what do you think?” Monsieur asked after we had exchanged pleasantries with hundreds of guests.

Shitty. That’s what I wanted to say.

“Marvelous” Were the words that escaped my lips instead.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“You’re going to rule them one day,” He gestured toward the crowd.

“What about Vienna?” I inquired, brows furrowed.

“She’ll stand by your side, assisting you,” He replied as if he didn’t know his own daughter.

“I doubt she’d want that,” I remarked.

He sighed deeply.

“Vienna will always be Vienna,” he said calmly.

“I’m sure she’ll get over it,” he added, shaking his head. I regarded him with deep furrowed brows.

“She won’t,” I asserted firmly.

“She won’t just accept it and move on so easily,” I couldn’t pinpoint where I found the courage to speak to him in such a tone, but he was truly testing my patience.

“She dedicated years to training to inherit your Alpha position, and she made numerous sacrifices to claim it as her own,” My voice grew slightly louder.

“Tradition dictates that the legacy passes to the firstborn child,” He said casually.

“I have no interest in your legacy, nor am I your first child,” I blurted out.

He looked surprised by my words, but there was no hint of pain in his eyes.

“You still deny it? Even after your mother confessed it to you?” Right, of course, he’d know that part. Vienna came as a spy, not as a loving sister.

“Your blood means nothing to me,” I hurled those words like daggers, but they seemed to bounce off him, having little effect.

“My blood is what runs in your veins,” he muttered.

“That doesn’t change anything. You are not my father!” My emotions swelled, and a few guests started to glance in our direction.

I watched as the smug expression on his face shifted into one of cold indifference. His eyes darkened, lips pressed into a thin line, and it sent a shiver down my spine. He scared me; I couldn’t forget what he was capable of. He was a devil himself.

“Oh, daughter, you’ll learn in time, even if I have to force it into your little mind. You are a Crescent, and you’re mine and your mother’s. There is nothing you can do about it,” His words sounded taunting but carried a heavy, ominous seriousness. It felt like a veiled threat.

I don’t know why or how, but I suddenly grabbed the knife from the table. But before I could even raise it, his hand shot out like a lightning-quick and grabbed mine. My eyes widened at the astonishing speed of his reflexes. His grip was vice-like, and I dropped the knife.

He then pulled my hand, and in an instant, I was enveloped in a tight hug. It happened so fast that it left me breathless. No one seemed to notice my poorly risked act of violence; he had stopped my hand before I could fully hold the knife, and now, this hug.

“You will learn to be obedient, one way or another,” he whispered in my ear, his tone filled with unsettling determination.

I struggled to free myself from his embrace, the pressure on my chest making it hard to breathe. Gasping for air, I felt my vision blur.

“Let me go!” I tried to scream, but my voice came out weak. I couldn’t make much movement. He was damn too strong.

I was on the brink of panic when, after what felt like an eternity, he finally released me. I gasped for breath, clutching my throat, tears streaming down my face as I shot him a sharp, resentful glare.

He looked at me with a smug expression, seemingly unbothered by my distress. His eyes then flicked downwards. I followed his gaze and realized my gown was stained.

Blood was clearly trickling down my legs.