Claiming His Luna

Lucian’s POV

I haven’t had a wink of sleep in the past few days. Not even a short nap; I doubt I’ve even blinked. I’ve been completely focused on finding her, unable to spare even a second for rest.

No one has bothered me, and no one has dared to tell me to take a break. Not that I would have listened.

I made a vow to the Moon Goddess that I wouldn’t lose her again, and yet, I did.

She never seems to learn.

“Mission Report,” Frank spoke sternly and with a hint of coldness, a bit more different than his usual demeanour.

“We haven’t received any news about Ms. Cercei or our men who were chasing them, and Ms. Maria…” He paused as if struggling to say the last name.

I recognized that look on Frank’s face; it mirrored my own. It seems I’m not the only one left behind.

“Gather our men and the North emblems. We’ll launch an attack on the next full moon,” I declared, looking fierce.

Although tired and restless, Frank’s shocked expression didn’t escape my notice. He became visibly tense at my impulsive decision.

“Sire…” He began, addressing me as if trying to bring me back to reason. I pressed my lips together and leaned back in my chair.

“It’s time,” I murmured, clenching my jaw. She’s in the clutches of her monstrous father, carrying my child. I can’t sit idly by and wait for her return or order my men to get her back.

“We haven’t secured full support from all the North Lords,” Frank quickly reminded me. My jaw clenched again. Right, there are traitors lurking inside my council.

“We don’t need traitors lurking behind our backs!” I retorted loudly.

Surely, we can wage this war without them, and afterward, I’ll ensure to destroy them next.

“Miss Cercei is in their hands; what if they use her against us?” Frank pointed out the harsh reality.

“She’s in their hands, which is precisely why we’re raising the damn war flag, Frank!” My patience had already worn thin.

“Are you questioning me?” I asked coldly, not feeling insulted but asserting my authority.

“No!” His response was firm, devoid of the earlier doubts.

“The next full moon is a week away. Ensure all the troops are prepared,” I ordered.

He simply nodded before departing.

My father had warned me about this, saying that love makes you foolish. Is this truly a foolish decision?

Is it foolish to launch a war to get back the mother of my child and my heir? No, it’s not. Foolishness was allowing them to slip through my fingers.

She’s in a vulnerable state now, carrying an heir, yet she dared to run away.

I admit I share some blame. I shut down completely when I first heard the news of her pregnancy. I was a fool to let emotions overwhelm me. I thought I had trained all my life to be as cold as necessary, as displaying emotion is a sign of weakness that my enemies could exploit. That’s why I spent my life perfecting the art of concealing it.

However, it seems I wasn’t prepared enough. I never even considered receiving such news; it didn’t cross my mind once. I never expected to be blessed with an heir so soon. The horrors of my past still haunt my present, and how did the Moon Goddess decide that I am worthy of becoming a father?

****

“Are you sure about this?” Emilia asked, standing before me. I raised my gaze to meet her eyes; Cercei inherited her eyes, same colour, same shape, with a hint of devilry.

“Isn’t this what we’ve been preparing for?” I raised my eyebrows in response.

She took a seat in front of me, looking entirely different from her time in Remus’ mansion. Besides no longer wearing servant’s attire, she exuded strength and control.

“You’ve won every war you’ve ever fought,” I commended her recent victory. It wasn’t a question or statement, more a declaration of fact. I took a sip of the vodka straight from the glass I held.

“This war is different,” her voice dripped with seriousness, almost a warning.

“Yes, it is. The stakes are higher now. I’m not fighting just because I want to; I’m fighting because I have to. Losing is not an option.”

“We may not win,” she declared, reminding me of the impending great war. I chuckled in response.

“I never knew you were a pessimist,” I grinned at her.

“Remus is a tough enemy and influential,” she quickly explained, tapping her fingers on the table.

“Aren’t I?” I boasted.

“He has my daughter,” she said, locking eyes with me.

“He has my mate,” I poured another glass and offered it to her. She stared at it as it slid closer.

“And the mother of my child,” I added calmly.

I could feel her gaze intensify. I stood up to retrieve another bottle from the cabinet, sensing her eyes on my back.

“What?” she exclaimed in shock as I returned. I looked at her; her lips were pale, her eyes wide, and she was breathing heavily.

I popped the bottle open with my finger and took a drink.

“She’s pregnant, surprise!” I raised both my arms slightly. Her jaw dropped to the floor as if she weren’t already shocked.

“She’s what?” she asked, wanting to confirm my declaration. She seemed flabbergasted.

“You’re going to be a grandma, yay!” I tried to sound humorous and displayed an embarrassed smile.

She stood up abruptly and took a big step closer to me. She gripped my collar so hard that I thought she might ruin the world’s finest fabric.

“She’s what?” she repeated more forcefully.

“Pregnant…” I whispered, still smiling.

“How many bottles have you drunk?” She glanced at the bottle in my hand, trying to divert the topic.

“I’m not sure how that’s related to your previous question…” I began, but she tightened her grip, and I almost choked.

“I think a few bottles…” I smiled, struggling to breathe.

“Stop this joke,” She released me, sending me stumbling backward and causing me to drop the bottle, shattering it on the floor.

“You’re drunk,” she said, sounding almost disappointed.

“No!” I took a step, realizing too late that she was right. Damn, my head was spinning.

“Yes,” I replied, in pain, holding my head.

“You’re waging a war while drunk, Lucian,” she gritted her teeth, looking at me seriously.

“No!” I firmly insisted. I wasn’t drunk when I made the decision to start the war.

“Lucian, this is a serious matter,” she approached me again, holding both my shoulders and urging me to look at her.

I doubted it was the best idea at the moment, considering my vision wasn’t at its best.

“She left me again,” I said sadly, my voice breaking slightly. I cleared my throat.

“Aren’t I worth staying for?” I asked her, looking into her eyes. She appeared doubled in my vision, probably because of the vodka.

“This has happened twice already,” I added, sliding down to the floor, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. She knelt down in an attempt to catch me, but I was simply too big and heavy.

“Oh, child,” she almost sounded like my Mom, pulling me into her arms as we both sat on the floor.