CHAPTER 163: UB40 - FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Veyron looked confused. " yes?"

"It needs blood for sustenance," she explained. "And it’s feeding on the mother. She’s on transfusion now, but the child is consuming everything we give her."

"Well, then," Veyron said, standing up again. "Get more blood. The castle has enough in reserve."

Thessa narrowed her eyes. "That’s not it."

"That’s never a good sign."

"She needs to feed in quantities that are illegal in Blood City. We’re talking one liter a day minimum."

Veyron sat down slowly. "One liter a day?"

)

"Yes. And that’s just to keep her stable. If the growth accelerates—if the child starts forming bone, strengthening organs—it’ll need even more. This is not a conversation I want to have with a royal," she muttered, rubbing her temples.

"You’re there to protect the princess and her child," Veyron said firmly, fingers tapping the side of his mug. "Difficult conversations are part of your job description. But I will come speak to the prince."

"Yes, sir." Thessa said and got up to leave.

Veyron’s voice called her back. "Thessa..."

She paused at the threshold.

"If it comes to choosing between the child and the princess..."

Thessa didn’t let him finish. She turned slightly, her profile tense but resigned. "I know. The child comes first."

The words left a hollow silence between them.

Veyron nodded once, curt and grim. He didn’t like it but that was the burden his order had to carry. He closed the door gently behind her and made to prepare to visit the prince.

*****

Luna’s eyelids fluttered open. Her vision blurred, white light spilling over familiar walls and curtains. It took her a moment to orient herself—she wasn’t in the werewolf castle.

This was... Damien’s room.

Her eyes scanned the space until they landed on a ridiculous sight.

Damien was snoring softly on a couch much too small for his long limbs. He was curled awkwardly, one arm tucked under his head, the other hanging off the edge. He had a pillow smushed against his cheek.

Luna couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped her lips.

A moment later, the door creaked open and Doctor Thessa slipped inside. "Princess, you’re awake."

Luna immediately raised her finger to her lips. "Shhhh," she whispered. "Don’t wake him. He looks like a tired guard dog."

Thessa bit back a laugh and nodded, stepping closer to Luna’s bedside.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, pulling out a small notepad.

"Hungry," Luna said, placing a hand over her belly. "Starving actually."

"Good," Thessa said with a chuckle. "That’s one of the side effects of the pregnancy. Heightened appetite."

"I’ll have the kitchen send up food right away," Thessa promised, scribbling something into her pad.

Luna’s hand drifted lower, resting protectively over her stomach. "What’s your name?"

"Doctor Thessally Thorn." She answered.

"What’s wrong with my baby?"

"Nothing. It’s in perfect health," Thessa said with a reassuring smile. "Well, as perfect as a tiny royal vampire baby growing inside a werewolf womb can be."

Luna relaxed a bit. "Is this... normal? When carrying a Trueblood?"

Thessa let out a short laugh. "Normal? Your Highness, nothing about you is normal. You’re a werewolf princess mated to a vampire prince, pregnant with a Trueblood child. Normal left the room since the moment you met."

Luna gave a dry smile, but she wasn’t truly amused. She glanced down at her belly again, her hand moving instinctively to rest there, as though she could sense the life inside. As though she could protect it from everything.

"But we’re learning as we go. You’re stable for now. And so is the baby."

Luna nodded slowly, but her gut told her there was more. There was only one person who might have the answers she needed. The one person who knew how this all began. Morvakar. As soon as she could stand on her own two feet, she was going to him—whether anyone liked it or not.

"I’ll get the maids to bring your food," Thessa said gently.

Thessa left the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

The moment the latch clicked into place, Damien’s eyes cracked open—just a sliver. His gaze darted straight to her. Her chest rising and falling. Her fingers tracing over her belly. Her lips not quite smiling, but alive.

That was all he needed.

In a blink, he was on his feet.

"Luna?" he breathed.

She turned her head toward him. "Hey, Damien."

He strode across the room and dropped to his knees beside her. His lips landed on her forehead, then her cheeks, the corners of her mouth, the tip of her nose. His hands trembled slightly where they hovered above her blankets, afraid to squeeze too tight. "You’re okay," he whispered.

"I’m sure you were worried," Luna chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Worried? I drove all the way to the werewolf palace without slowing down, kidnapped a physician in her nightgown," he said in one breath.

"Classic overreaction," she teased.

"It’s not funny," Damien muttered, shifting carefully as he eased into bed next to her. His movements were slow as he maneuvered around the delicate tubing of the blood drip still attached to her arm. His hand lingered near hers, just close enough to hold if she needed it, far enough not to crowd her.

Luna sighed, her lips curled with the faintest remorseful smile. "I know. I’m sorry," she whispered. "I just... I laugh when I’m scared, apparently."

Damien let out a soft huff of amusement through his nose.

She turned her head to look at him more fully, eyes scanning his face—the tired creases beneath his eyes, the tension in his jaw. "So, what’s wrong?" she asked gently. "I get the feeling Doctor Thessally is holding something back."

"Nothing, love." He tried to summon that reassuring voice he used, the one that made even political disaster sound like a hiccup. "Everything is fine."

"Damien," Luna said sharply, the soft edge of her voice hardening just slightly. "Don’t."