Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“Well, please proceed, dove,” she said, gracefully brushing my hand away.

Taking a step forward, I was poised to confront her audacity when Lucian discreetly pulled me back, casting me a meaningful glance.

Inhaling deeply, I grasped the unspoken message conveyed by his gaze. I couldn’t afford to cause a scene in my aunt’s precious café, surrounded by innocent bystanders.

Refusing to grant her the satisfaction she sought, I knew she was merely attempting to provoke a reaction. She hadn’t come here aiming violence; she was well aware of her outnumbered status. Even if she had companions in this city, they were nowhere to be seen inside the café. Lucian’s men discreetly occupied every corner, some even discreetly stationed at nearby tables.

Taking another fortifying breath, I approached the counter to attend to her order.

“Do you know her? She seems fabulous,” Claire inquired, her gaze fixed on Vienna.

Vienna was making coquettish expressions towards Lucian, settled in the chair while he stood before her, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Yes,” I replied briefly. The question perplexed me, for I knew Vienna all too well.

“A friend, perhaps?” Claire probed further.

“Not exactly,” I responded, shortly conveying the truth. Claire nodded in understanding.

“Indeed, I wouldn’t categorise that as friendship either,” she remarked, gesturing towards Vienna, who pouted while casting puppy-dog eyes at Lucian. She even dared to reach for his arm, only to have him dodge her touch.

At this moment, I yearned to thrust the pan au chocolat into her face and pour scalding coffee down her throat.

What was her purpose in being here besides deliberately disturbing me? My heart trembled at the thought. It had been an age since I last looked at her, and her face revived the haunting memories of the horrors I had endured. Had they finally located us? What came next? Would they unleash their wolf-like forces and wage war in this peaceful place?

“Thank you, ever so obedient as always. It’s hard to believe I’m saying this, but I do miss your graceful service, my stupid girl,” she remarked with a sharp edge. Rage surged through my veins as she invoked the same demeaning nickname she had once used inside those mansion walls.

“Why don’t you return to that wretched mansion you call home?” I retorted. A fleeting flash of hurt crossed her features, although she swiftly concealed it, replacing it with an even sweeter smile.

“Your dearest friend longs for your presence, you know. What was her name again?” she feigned forgetfulness.

“Um… Maria, wasn’t it?” She deliberately emphasized Maria’s name. The temptation to strike her was overpowering. Truly, the devil assumed many forms, though even associating her with Satan would be an insult to the Lord of Darkness himself.

She’s the epitome of wickedness, the manifestation of sin itself.

Her face illuminated with delight, realising the profound impact the mere mention of my best friend had on me. Maria, during my absence, I imagined her enduring literal hell. I was all too aware of Vienna’s vindictiveness; she likely channelled her anger toward us through Maria.

“I’ll be sure to pass along your greetings to her,” she uttered, taking a sip of her coffee.

I hastily retreated, aiming for comfort in the staff room. Tears, which I had struggled so hard to suppress, streamed down my face like an overflowing river.

“Sir, you’re not allowed here; this area is designated for staff only. Hey, pancake,” Claire’s voice called out, blocking Lucian. The door swung open, revealing Lucian’s concerned expression. Claire stood behind him, attempting to halt his steps. Realizing the gravity of the situation, she respectfully stepped aside, granting us privacy as she observed me crumpled on the floor, consumed by tears.

“Hey,” he knelt down, bringing himself to my level. I brushed away my tears, attempting to regain composure.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea she had entered the city. The Crescents have numerous connections, even here. I’m deeply sorry, and I swear it won’t happen again,” his words dripped with self-blame, laden with remorse, fear, and genuine worry.

I shook my head. It wasn’t his fault. I was discreetly acquainted with the ways of the Crescents; I had spent my entire life in their clutches. Monsieur had connections that reached far and wide, explaining how Vienna managed to slip past Lucian’s vigilant men unnoticed.

Now, the gravity of the situation truly hit me. I couldn’t rely solely on Lucian’s protection. This place, this haven, held my heart’s deepest affection. It contained the fragments of redemption in my otherwise forsaken existence. However, I couldn’t allow the battle to spill over into this shelter. Sooner or later, the MoonStone would extend their war banner. I couldn’t bear to see Lucian entangled in a conflict that was never his to fight in the first place.

He had already gone above and beyond, forsaking his position and duty to stand by my side, bringing his loyal men and maintaining constant vigilance for my safety.

I couldn’t bear to put his life in danger. Though he possessed strength and power, so did Monsieur. It was time for us to face this challenge independently, just as we always had.

“It’s not your fault,” I managed to utter between sobs, tears incessantly streaming down my face. Lucian tenderly wiped away the tears that continued to fall, his touch offering fleeting ease from the pain.

“I’m so sorry, Cercei. I promise you I won’t fail you again,” he vowed, his words carrying the weight of an unbreakable commitment.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

You never failed me, Lucian, and you never will. But I must end this, for both our sakes. I’m sorry.

“Leave,” I commanded, my voice icy and detached, purposefully averting my gaze, afraid that I might falter.

“Cercei, please,” he pleaded, desperation lacing his voice. I gently released myself from his grasp.

“Leave,” I repeated, my tone growing colder. I could barely recognize my own voice anymore.

He rose to his feet, his movements slow and burdened with regret, while I remained on the floor, huddled in a protective embrace around my knees. I yearned to steal a final glance at him, my heart aching with the realisation of his anguish and guilt. Yet, I forced myself to turn away, feeling as though a vise tightened around my heart, inflicting unbearable pain.

I had to push him away to spare him from being consumed by the depths of my personal hell.

He lingered for a moment, gazing at me, before finally departing. Each step he took felt like a knife piercing my heart. It was agonising, yet I knew it was the right course of action. The truth became undeniable as I cried out the words I had failed to express to him the night before. I loved him.

I had fallen for him without even knowing it, falling in love with the very man I had believed I despised.

Little did I realise that love was capable of inflicting such excruciating pain.

I’m sorry, my love, but you must stay away. And if you refuse, then it is I who will step back, even if it tears me apart. I refuse to let the blazing flames of my personal battle consume you.