BLESSING LUNA RISING

THE MORNING AFTER

CHAPTER 15:

I woke to purring and to teeth.

Not hurting. Resting. Heavy, possessive, right over the mark on my neck where Darius had finally claimed me properly.

His fangs were still locked there, not biting down anymore, just holding. His massive body was curled around mine in the nest, his black wings still sealed into a dome above us, his one hand splayed over my belly where our son's white fire pulsed slow and sleepy, his other hand tangled in my white wings that were still wrapped around him from the night before.

The silk dress was torn. I remembered that. I remembered his hands shaking too hard to untie it.

I moved, and his fangs tightened instantly, his purr stopping with a low growl.

"Mine," he murmured against my neck, half asleep, his voice wrecked. "Still mine?"

I smiled into the furs, silver dust puffing out with my breath. My neck throbbed with a good, warm throb I had never felt before. Not pain. Belonging.

"Still yours," I whispered, and my own small fangs ached where I had marked him back, low on his shoulder, where his black crescent ended.

That mark — my bite on him — was glowing faintly white through the dark of the wing dome.

Darius finally unlocked his fangs, but only to lick the mark closed, his tongue hot, his purr starting again so deep it vibrated the furs.

"Your wings didn't let go all night," he said, his storm-grey eyes open now, looking at our wings tangled — black and moonstone, black silk and white silk membranes overlapping. "No White Queen has ever wrapped a Black King like that. My mother told stories. She said when a White wraps a Black willingly, it means the pup will have both fires."

He pressed his forehead to mine, his hand never leaving my belly.

"How do you feel? Dizzy? Cold? Does the double mark—"

He stopped, because the black ice doors that had reformed after he smashed them, exploded inward for the second time in twelve hours.

Not smashed by him.

Blasted by white fire.

My father stood in the doorway, his white wings flared to their full twenty feet, his silver eyes blazing, his white hair whipping even though there was no wind in the tower. Behind him, my mother held a tray of raw meat and moonwater, looking terrified.

"YOU DOUBLE-MARKED HER WHILE SHE IS THREE DAYS PREGNANT WITH YOUR SON INSIDE HER?!" Aeron roared, and the entire tower shook, black ice cracking. "DARIUS NOCTURNE! I LEFT YOU TO GUARD HER, NOT TO—"

Darius didn't even flinch. He just pulled his black wing tighter around me, hiding my torn dress, hiding my bare shoulder, hiding my belly from my father's fury.

"She asked," he said calmly, his fangs still out, his eyes still black at the edges. "She marked me back. Ask her."

All eyes snapped to me, curled in the nest, hair tangled, neck freshly double-marked black and silver, white wings wrapped possessively around the Lycan King who was still purring.

Aeron stared at my neck, at the two marks now intertwined — his own daughter's bite on a Lycan King, a thing that had not happened in a hundred years — and his fury faltered into something like awe.

"Lira," he whispered to my mother. "Look. She double-marked him. Our star double-marked the Black King."

My mother set the tray down, her eyes filling with tears. "She is truly Queen now."

From far below, from the courtyard where he should have been dead or gone, a howl rose. Not a Lycan howl. A broken Alpha howl.

Kael.

"DARIUS! FACE ME! YOU CAN'T KEEP HER LOCKED UP THERE! SHE IS MY FATED! MY FATED! I REJECTED HER BUT I DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS—"

The howl cut off with a sickening crack, as if someone had slammed him into black ice.

One of Darius's Lycan generals appeared behind my father, kneeling, forehead to the ice, not daring to look into the nest.

"My King. The Silverfang Alpha escaped the dungeon. He climbed the tower. He is screaming your Queen's name. Your warriors are holding him at the lower ledge. He says he will not leave without her. What are your orders?"

Darius's purr stopped. Completely. The black fire pit in the center of his lair, which had been burning low and warm all night, flared black and violent, shooting twenty feet high.

His wings snapped open, destroying the cozy dome, exposing the nest, exposing me in torn silk, double-marked, belly glowing faintly with his son, to the cold tower air.

He rose from the nest in only his linen pants, his chest bare, my white bite glowing on his shoulder, his black crescent glowing white in time with my belly, his black wings spread so wide they touched both walls.

"My Queen is nesting," he said, his voice so low it was more terrifying than any roar. "She is three days pregnant, double-marked, and wrapped around me. And that wolfless mongrel DARES to howl her name on my mountain?"

He looked down at me, his eyes pure black again, his fangs fully extended, his hand reaching for me.

"Little Luna, stay with your mother. Keep your wings around our son. I will be back in five minutes, and I will bring you his tongue so he never says your name again."

He leaned down and kissed my double mark, hard, possessive, his tongue sealing it again.

Then he stepped out of the nest, his black wings snapping, and dove straight out of the shattered tower doors, straight down three hundred feet to where Kael was screaming my name.

My father looked at me, at my belly, at my tangled wings, and sighed, closing his white wings.

"You picked the most possessive male on the continent, little star," he said, sitting at the edge of my nest, guarding me while my mate went to kill my ex. "Just like your mother did."

Below, Kael's scream turned into a gurgle.