Rejected Luna, Vampire Queen

chapter 16

I sprinted down the stairs, my feet hitting the wooden steps with a frantic rhythm. The screaming and shouting from the floor below didn't stop; if anything, the noise was swelling, growing louder and more chaotic with every second that passed. When I finally reached the entrance of the dining room, I skidded to a halt and saw Miracle. The sight was shocking. Her face, which she usually kept so perfect and pretty, was completely transformed. Her skin had turned a violent, bright red, looking exactly like a hot pepper that was about to burst. Her eyes were puffy, swollen into tiny slits, and she was trapped in a terrifying loop of crying and hacking coughs at the same time.

Then, the most unbelievable thing happened right before my eyes. Miracle opened her mouth, likely intending to let out another piercing scream, but instead, she vomited with full force right on Zayden! The mess went everywhere, splattering across his expensive, well-ironed white shirt. The fabric was ruined in an instant, soaked in the gross evidence of her allergic reaction.

I had to bite my lower lip so hard I thought it might bleed just to keep myself from laughing out loud. My stomach actually started to ache from the sheer pressure of trying to stay quiet. It was a masterpiece of a disaster. She was totally disgracing herself, losing every bit of her dignity in front of the very boy she had been trying so hard to steal away from me.

The commotion caught Aunt Rebecca’s attention, and her head snapped toward me. Her face twisted, darkening with a sudden, sharp rage when she saw me standing there. "What are you looking at, you useless girl!" she shrieked, her voice hitting a pitch that made my ears ring. "Get your head back upstairs right this second! Move!"

I didn't wait for a second invitation. I spun around on my heels and bolted back up the stairs to my room. The moment I crossed the threshold and slammed the door shut, I collapsed onto my bed and let out the laughter I had been holding back. I laughed until my ribs felt sore and actual tears started rolling down my face. For the first time in my entire life, I felt a spark of genuine happiness that something bad had happened to someone else. In that moment, it didn't feel mean—it felt like justice.

However, as the days crawled by, that bubbly feeling of laughter started to fade away. A heavy weight took its place in my chest. I sat on my bed, staring down at my hands and feeling a deep sense of guilt wash over me. I am a bad person, I thought to myself. That night, looking at my reflection in the dark window, I made a solemn promise. I would never do something like that again. I didn't want to become like them; I didn't want my heart to turn hard and mean just because they were cruel to me.

Back in the present, Alpha Damon was perfectly still in the oversized bathtub. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, and for a few fleeting seconds, a tiny smile—just a small, barely visible twitch of his lips—appeared on his face. It was a strange sight. It was the very first time I had ever seen him look almost human, like a man instead of a monster.

"Do you know what I would have done if someone tried to steal my crush?" he asked. His voice had dropped to a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through the steam in the room.

"No," I whispered back. I stopped rubbing the washcloth against his chest and looked up at him, waiting for the answer.

"I would not have wasted my time with garlic," he stated. He cracked one eye open, pinning me with a dark, intense stare. "I would have waited until the middle of the night, when the house was silent. Then, I would have taken a heavy pillow and strangled them while they slept. I would make sure they never drew another breath to steal anything from me ever again."

I suddenly burst out laughing. The way he said it was just so dramatic and over-the-top that I couldn't help myself. But as quickly as the moment started, it ended. His face went stone-cold and serious again.

"Although," he continued, his tone turning icy and distant. "I have never actually had a crush before. I don't believe in those childish things. Love is nothing but an illusion, Amanda. It is a fairy tale created for the weak people of this world to keep them comforted. It makes you soft. It makes you vulnerable. And in the end, it makes you very easy to kill."

"Then... if love is for the weak, what is meant for the strong people?" I asked politely. I couldn't help but feel a little bit sad for him, wondering how lonely his world must be.

"Power," he said. He spoke the word with such reverence, as if it were the most beautiful thing in the entire world. "Power is everything. This world is a harsh place, meant only to be ruled by the strong. The strong are the ones who make the rules. They take what they want without asking. While they rule, the weak people just sit in the dirt, begging for pity and searching for love. In this life, you don't beg for what you need. You either kill for it, or you force your way through until you have it. That is the only way to survive."

I looked at him, a sudden spark of bravery making me speak up. "But... what if you get all the power in the world? What if you become the King of everything, but you don't have a single person who truly cares about you? Isn't that just a different kind of prison? A very lonely one?"

Damon didn't give me an answer. Instead, he stood up from the water abruptly, causing a huge wave to splash over the side and hit the floor. He grabbed a thick towel and dried himself with quick, aggressive movements. He snatched his shirt and pulled it over his head, hiding his muscles from view. The "nice" version of him I had glimpsed was gone. The "Devil Alpha" was back in full force.

He turned toward me, his eyes looking like two pieces of unmoving black ice.

"Listen to me carefully," he said, his voice sharp enough to cut. Every word felt like a physical slap to my face. "What we discussed today... it was nothing but casual talk. It was a secret. Do not go out into the pack and think this conversation makes you special. Do not even begin to think that we are friends, or lovers, or anything of the sort."

I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. My hands started to shake, and I gripped my dress to hide it.

"You are just my medicine," he said, looking at me with zero emotion, like I was just a bottle of pills sitting on a shelf. "Nothing more. You will only come to me when I call for you. And when we are outside these walls, in front of the pack, you will not speak to me. You will not even look me in the eye. You are a tool for my pain, and that is all you will ever be."

All the warmth in the bathroom vanished in an instant. I felt colder in that moment than I did when my aunt used to lock me in the dark closet. I stood up slowly, my wet dress sticking uncomfortably to my skin. I felt like a total fool for opening up to him and sharing my story.

I began to walk toward the door with my head hung low. I desperately wanted to cry, but I refused to let him see a single tear. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"I understand, Alpha," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I pushed the heavy door open to leave, ready to disappear into the hallway. But as I stepped out, my eyes caught something on the floor. It was a letter. It had a dark red wax seal on it—a seal that looked exactly like a thick drop of blood. And written across the front in bo

ld letters was my name.