THE LUNA THEY’LL NEVER LOVE

47: MY WIFE

PHEEONA.

Nashyn snatched the man by the throat before the body could slam into me, holding him back with one arm like he weighed nothing at all.

I inhaled sharply, wincing at the bite of pain still sitting raw in my throat.

He flung the body to the floor hard, and two guards stumbled into the room a second later with wide eyes and panicked expressions, taking in the dead man, taking in me, taking in Nashyn standing over all of it with something still burning behind his eyes that hadn't fully settled yet.

I held my throat and tried to talk my heart rate down from wherever it had climbed.

Nashyn stalked toward me, a deep furrow between his brows that I genuinely couldn't read as concern or anger or both at once. His hands found my shoulder and wrist, grip surprisingly soft.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, not entirely trusting my voice yet.

He looked at the guards. "Clear this place. Now."

They moved fast.

My breath hitched the moment we stepped back into the main floor of the tavern. Palace guards were everywhere, stationed at every exit, every corner, every point of entry I could see. The party had been completely halted. Music silent. Everyone standing still, staring, the energy in the room shifted into something tense and uncertain.

Outside, the street was cleared of almost everyone except security and a handful of stragglers, the guards having apparently restricted anyone from leaving while the situation unfolded.

I scanned the crowd and exhaled the moment I spotted Anyssa and Bennedict, both of them reacting the same way when they saw me, relief flooding their faces instantly.

It lasted about three seconds.

Nashyn stepped ahead of me, grabbed Bennedict by his shirt, and punched him hard across the face.

I gasped. "Nashyn—"

He slammed Bennedict's body against the Range Rover, getting in his face, seething. "You had one f*****g job."

Bennedict wheezed, barely able to get words out, his hands flying up to his throat.

"Stop it," I stepped forward, voice sharp. "Stop, you’re hurting him and he did nothing wrong—"

Nashyn cut me off with a single dark look. "Don't speak."

My lips parted in shock. "Don't tell me what to do! Don't even talk to me like that. You're being completely—"

A woman rushed through the space between us and dropped to her knees at my feet, gasping out, "Your grace."

Every single guard reacted at once, weapons drawn, all of them trained on her in an instant.

"Wait!" I threw my hands up.

Nashyn released Bennedict, who slid down against the car gripping his throat. Nashyn turned, eyes sweeping the woman on the ground. "Put your weapons down," he said to the guards, voice like a blade. "You couldn't protect her when you needed to and now you're drawing weapons on a defenseless woman."

The guards lowered them.

The woman kept her eyes on the ground, voice barely audible. "This was my fault, your grace. I had no knowledge she was the queen. She was protecting me. You arrived mere moments after I ran for help."

"You shouldn't have needed to," Nashyn said thinly. He turned and looked down at Bennedict. "You should have been there the moment she was in danger. That is your only purpose for being here."

"I walked off to use the bathroom," I said. "He had his eyes on Anyssa."

Nashyn spun on me and glared. "I don't give a f**k about your handmaiden." He gestured wide to his guards. "I didn't send out a dozen guards for her protection."

"She's not just my handmaiden, she's my friend."

"You're my wife!" he bellowed.

I faltered at the volume of it.

"You're a queen," he continued, every word tight and deliberate. "And today, you were almost killed. Again."

"That is not my fault," I fired back. "If someone can't move through the streets of your territory without looking over their shoulder, that's a problem with your ruling."

I couldn't stop myself. "If your territory is a criminal minefield and you've deemed Ashenbane unsafe for me, then let me go back—"

He spun around and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer, voice dropping dangerously low. "That's enough. I don't want to hear another word."

I crashed into his chest and shoved away from him. "Let me go."

He didn't. He looked at Bennedict. "Take her handmaiden back to the palace. This matter will be discussed further." To the guards, "Follow behind."

He turned toward the Range Rover.

I hated the grip he had on me. The effect it was having on my body. "Let me go, Nashyn."

He opened the car door and released me. "Inside."

I glared at him.

"You can get inside this car willingly," he said, with a level of impatience that made my skin crawl, "or I will pick you up and place your ass on that f*****g seat."

My hands curled into ridiculously tight fists at my sides.

I. Got. Inside.

The drive back was silent, but my mind was anything but. I was boiling, bouncing my leg just to keep myself from combusting entirely. When the image of him dismissing Anyssa rose up again, I broke.

"Anyssa isn't just my handmaiden," I said tightly. "She's my best friend and I don't appreciate how you belittled her today."

He scoffed under his breath. "Some best friend she is."

I turned to glare at him. "What does that mean?"

"A best friend," he said, eyes still on the road, "whose family was handpicked by your father. Whose mother raised and doted on you until you turned fifteen as you formed a quasi-friendship with her child who later became your personal maiden turned friend."

My lips parted.

I stared at his profile carefully. "How on earth do you know all that?"

He ran a hand over the wheel.

"How do you know that?" I asked again.

He gave me nothing. And it made my anger rage even more.

"Are you just going to ignore me?"

I noted, with a particular kind of fury, that I was once again in this exact position with him, trapped in a car, getting nothing back. And I had to actively regulate my breathing to keep from losing my mind entirely.

By the time we reached the palace, a slew of cars was pulling in behind us.

I got out and headed straight for the front doors.

"Go to the throne room," he said as he walked up behind me. "We need to discuss what happened."

I kept walking.

"Did you hear me?"

I didn't turn around.

"You're going in the wrong direction. Pheeona."

Silence.

I kept walking till I was almost at the end of the hallway, and before rounding the bend, I spared one last glare over my shoulder––

I never finished the motion.

In the next second I was upside down, shrieking as I was thrown over Nashyn's shoulder like I weighed absolutely nothing. I pounded on his back, shouting at him to put me down, and he walked completely unfazed, immune to every bit of it.

He didn't put me down until he'd walked into the throne room and dropped me onto a wide lounge chair.

I sat up sharply, scathing words ready on my tongue, and faltered.

Crowen and Vizellan were already there, sitting lazily across from me like they'd been expecting this exact moment.

Vizellan flipped his knife as he trailed his eyes over my face. "Bennedict is relieved of his duties."

"Why has Bennedict been relieved?" I asked loudly.

"Because he can't protect you," Crowen said simply.

"Or your home is full of monsters waiting to attack at every turn.” I spat. “Bennedict wasn't at fault today and I don't want him punished."

"Everything that went wrong today was his fault," Vizellan said.

"No it wasn't." I sat forward. How on earth could they look at things so black and white? "If anything it's this entire marriage. You care about my safety? Then all off the sham of a union!"

"Not even slightly up for discussion." Nashyn seethed.

He stepped closer, looking down at me. "You can be given the privilege of choosing another head guard. Otherwise you can sit your ass in this palace for the rest of your life. Because that's what this is, princess. You're married. For life. No escape. No way out." He held my gaze. "So when you've picked your guard come tomorrow morning, you can pick out your dresses like a good little wife, because for the next week that's all you're going to be. A good wife attending her post-wedding celebrations."

He glanced between his cousins. "Any objections?"

Crowen's gaze stayed on my face. "None from me. The banquets will be held within the week."

I looked at Vizellan.

"I second this notion," he said. His pale eyes held mine as the corner of his mouth curved, just slightly. "After all, we never did get to celebrate our honeymoon."