CHAPTER 166: LEANN RHIMES - I NEED YOU

"I wish," Damien muttered as he stepped inside. He looked unusually rumpled tonight. "Turns out we need you now more than ever."

Morvakar turned then, eyebrows raised. "Well," he said, reaching for a mug with one hand, "it is nice to be needed. How’s the princess? And the baby?"

Damien offered a weak smirk. "Actually... that’s why I’m here. We have a problem."

"Of course you do." Morvakar plopped into his chair, steam from his mug curling in the air. "Every time you show up, it’s with a crisis. What is it this time?"

Damien’s face hardened. "The baby... it’s killing her."

The mug slipped from his hand, hitting the side stool with a loud clack, its contents splashing.

"How?" he asked, eyes burning with urgency.

"It’s feeding on her blood," Damien said.

"Then give her blood!" Morvakar snapped. "I mean, it is simple, isn’t it?"

"Oh... really? Why didn’t I think about that?" Damien said as he dropped onto the nearest chair. "Get her blood? Why, thank you, Morvakar. I’m so relieved. Truly. My crown was starting to weigh a little too lightly on my head."

Morvakar arched a brow, entirely unfazed by the prince’s dramatic monologue. "The quantity she needs is above the legal limit," he murmured, more to himself than Damien.

"Yes," Damien said dryly. "Welcome to the conversation."

Morvakar exhaled deeply and moved to refill his mug.

"I... She cannot die," Morvakar said finally, the seriousness in his tone cutting through the banter.

Damien’s mocking tone disappeared at once. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples. "I agree with you," he said. "That’s exactly why I’m here. But that still brings me back to the same point—I don’t know what to do. Luna thinks you will have the answers. You’re her fairy god-sorcerer, right?"

Morvakar scoffed. "I cannot just whip solutions out of my ass, Damien. Contrary to popular belief, this is not a wish-granting coven. I have no spell that conjures liters of blood." He turned to look at him. "It’s either you get her the blood she needs... or you get rid of the child."

"Wow. Casual infanticide. Very on-brand of you."

"It’s not an easy choice," Morvakar said, folding his arms. "But it is a choice."

Damien stared at the floor for a long beat before exhaling in frustration. "You should know Luna as much as I do," he muttered. "You created her. Tell me—did you take your sweet time adding streaks of stubbornness when you were brewing whatever experimental voodoo you were feeding her mother?"

That made Morvakar chuckle. A low, weathered sound. "You could say so. My son was just as spirited as her."

"She’s quite set in not taking any more blood than allowed," Damien added after a pause. "And I’m damned sure she wouldn’t agree to get rid of the child. She’s willing to die for it."

"Then get her the blood—without her knowing it," Morvakar said.

Damien looked up slowly. "I promised never to keep anything from her," he said.

Morvakar scoffed. "Now you want to tell her everything? How noble. When you were supposed to, you kept everything locked tighter than a chastity belt. You choose now, of all times, to be transparent?"

"Listen, if you can get access to blood, Prince Damien... give it to her. Pretend it’s juice! I don’t care. Just do it."

"Morvakar..." Damien began.

"Damien," Morvakar countered, mimicking the same tone with concern. "I’m begging you."

There was a long pause. Then Damien looked at him, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Why is she so important to you, Morvakar? What connection is it that you share?"

Morvakar hesitated, caught off guard by the question.

"Well," he said finally, "I got to know her. And when I did... I was amazed at what I created. She’s a wonder, Damien. She’s stubborn, infuriating, impulsive. She deserves all the happiness this godforsaken world has to offer....She feels like..."

"Like a daughter," Damien finished.

"In a magical sense, yes," Morvakar added quickly, as though clarifying before it got too mushy. "Now back to the real matter at hand—get her blood, Damien. Before we lose her."

"I can get her blood," he admitted. "It’s just that... well, it means I have to put someone in danger."

Morvakar’s brows rose slowly, curiosity now piqued. "Oh?"

"Actually," Damien said with a wry smirk, "it’s someone you know."

"Let me guess," Morvakar muttered, rolling his eyes. "Your guardian angel... Veyron."

Damien gave a tired laugh. "He insists on handling it himself. Says it’s his honor, his duty, his life’s purpose. The usual self-sacrificing speech. I swear, sometimes I think he practices it in the mirror."

"He believes Gabriel would use the situation against us if he found out," Damien added.

Morvakar snorted. "Gabriel will use your shoelaces against you if you let him."

Then Damien stood. "If she finds out, she is going to kill me."

"She has to live, Damien," Morvakar said softly. "And if it comes to a choice between mother and child..."

Damien’s throat tightened. He didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence. He had already finished it a thousand times in his mind. "The mother lives," he whispered hoarsely, nodding slowly as though trying to convince the universe it would obey him through sheer repetition. "I know. I wouldn’t... I couldn’t... I can’t lose her."

The words came out broken, cracked.

"Which brings me to my next issue," Damien said. "Do you think I’ll live long enough to see the child born?"

Morvakar looked at Damien for a long moment, the lines on his face deepening. "I honestly don’t know," he admitted. "I already told you what the solution is."

"That’s not a solution." He rubbed his jaw, clearly fighting to keep his composure. "I don’t have a true mate out there. And even if I did, even if she dropped from the sky, I’m not marking anyone else."

"If I die, I die. I just... I need to protect Luna until the child is born. Because no one else can do it."