Claiming His Luna

Lucian’s POVExclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

Like a loyal dog, I trailed Cercei to Dinan with steadfast determination. I was persistently frequenting the café where she worked and staying at a simple motel on her street.

A mix of fear, anger, and irritation brewed inside her, and I understood it all too well. She blamed me for the unfortunate incident at the party. She wouldn’t have accidentally dropped something on me if I hadn’t startled her. It was my own mistake that shifted Vienna’s focus to her, making things worse.

Not to mention the fact that I became engaged soon after our intimate encounter. It was clearly her first time, and my foolishness made me mistake her for Vienna. I acknowledge my mistake. I harbour no intentions of coercing her into anything. I merely arrived here to ensure her safety and clear myself when a suitable moment arose while introducing myself more appropriately.

“You’re behaving creepily, Sire,” Frank expressed over the phone with a trifle of respect. Even though Frank tried to be tactful, I couldn’t help but get offended by his words.

“I am merely assuring her well-being,” I defended my stance.

“Yes, in a distinctly disturbing manner,” Frank promptly retorted. I couldn’t help but release a frustrated sigh.

“What’s the latest report on the MoonStone’s men?” I deftly redirected the conversation.

“We have successfully diverted their attention. They are currently scouring Asia searching for Miss Cercei and her mother.”

Vienna is clearly focused on seeking revenge, and it’s my responsibility to divert her attention. I am determined to protect Cercei’s life, and I will make sure it stays that way.

“Excellent. Ensure they do not come snooping around here,” I commanded before ending the call. Raising my finger aloft, I beckoned for Cercei’s attention. As her eyes met mine, a disdainful roll accompanied by her friend’s radiant smile greeted me.

A soft chuckle danced inside my mind. Oh, how effortlessly she becomes pissed, and her transparent anger towards me possesses a certain charm.

“What?” she spat out, her words laced with disdain.

“May I trouble you for another cup?” I gestured towards the empty cup before me.

“Of course,” she responded, a fake smile gracing her lips as her eyes rolled again. I couldn’t suppress my amusement.

“Here, enjoy your coffee,” she placed the mug before me with a brief, dismissive gesture, causing a small spill that spoiled the intricate latte design.

“That’s not how you treat a customer,” I commented while maintaining a calm demeanour.

“No, but it is certainly how one treats a jerk who has ruined their life,” she retorted swiftly, her words taunting.

“Listen, I am truly sorry. I understand that I cannot undo the past. May I have the opportunity to make amends? Let us talk,” I pleaded earnestly, genuinely wanting to set things right.

“No,” she replied, turning her back on me. I exhaled deeply, watching her walk away from me.

She requires time, and I shall grant her that. I never anticipated a warm reception, after all.

“I’ll have the usual,” I declared confidently. A flicker of surprise danced on her lips, taken aback by my audacity. Even though I had just arrived, my casual request for my usual order appeared to strike a nerve.

“Apologies, sir, but I do not possess an encyclopaedic memory of every customer. Would you kindly enlighten me with your preference?” she retorted sweetly, infused with sarcasm. I couldn’t help but smile.

“This one,” I pointed at the menu. She forced a smile and jotted it down on her pad. I knew she remembered my order perfectly well; she merely feigned indifference as though I were not worth occupying space in her memory. Indeed, every time I stepped through that door, her piercing gaze pierced me like a sword, penetrating every nook and cranny of my soul. Adorable, really.

I often spend my day observing her, studying her movements, her speech, and her overall demeanour. I notice her smile, her voice, and even her moments of annoyance. I observe how attentively she serves each customer. I take note of how she interacts with children and how she ties her hair when it’s hot.

An undeniable purity emanates from her being as if she were too sheltered, too innocent for this world. Merely glancing at her beautiful countenance showed that she possesses an innate interest, her eyes lingering on women her age, scrutinising their attire, hairstyles, and shoes.

Naturally, her striking beauty does not escape the attention of men. I witness how some of them adopt an overly friendly demeanour when she takes their orders. It bothers me to witness their dramatic displays, their broad smiles, compliments, and generous tips. Their attempts to win her favour are in vain; their wealth means nothing to me, as I could buy their lives three times over if I wished.

Lost in my thoughts, I was preoccupied with work-related phone calls when I realised I could no longer find Cercei. She was not at the counter or attending to a customer’s request. I waited for a few minutes, hoping she had simply retreated to the kitchen.

Where could she be?

A sense of worry gripped me tightly. She cannot roam freely; what if Vienna’s henchmen were to find her?

Unable to restrain myself, I approached the woman at the counter, assuming her to be Cercei’s friend. I had frequently observed them involved in lively conversations, sharing laughter and connection.

“Hello, I apologise, but may I inquire about the whereabouts of that pretty waitress?” I asked, raising my concern. Her brows furrowed at my question, clearly taken aback.

“Your what?” she queried, her tone laced with confusion.

“The woman who serves me, the one who knows my order,” I stumbled over my words, attempting to offer a flimsy excuse.

“I can take your order, sir. What would you like?” she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

“Nevermind, thank you,” I replied, realising the futility of my question, and prepared to leave.

“She’s off today. It’s her day off,” she informed me, prompting a grateful nod of acceptance from me.

Has she returned to her home? I sincerely hope so. She’s aware of the dangers that lurk in this city. Even if Vienna’s men aren’t around, numerous evil people still will exploit her innocence without a second thought.

Restless and consumed by worry, I aimlessly roamed the streets, desperately attempting to find her.

What on earth am I doing?

It is futile to search for her in this vast city without the assistance of my men. Like a dog obsessed with its owner, I roamed around, trying to find her.

Why can’t she just stay inside the café or in the safety of that building? She would be much better protected there. I understand her curiosity about the world, but it presents grave dangers.

She didn’t leave through the main entrance; otherwise, I would have quietly followed her. It might sound disturbing, but I undertake these actions solely for her safety. After all, she is my mate. Ensuring her well-being and security is my top priority. Maybe she is unaware of this, or perhaps she acknowledges it but chooses not to accept it. However, now that I am certain she is the one I have been searching for, I won’t let her escape my vigilant attention.