Chapter 22: Martina McBride - Independence Day
Lucivar quickly inserted himself. "Let’s just take it one step at a time, alright? Everyone breathe. Let’s not start a cross-species war in the throne room."
Luna wasn’t breathing. Her lungs were working, sure, but her chest felt like a battlefield. This wasn’t a throne room anymore, it was a courtroom where she stood trial for her own damn life.
She was done.
Done watching grown men decide her fate. Done listening to arguments.
The room blurred as frustration built up inside her. She had lost control the moment she kept her mouth shut at the Blood Moon Festival. That silence had grown teeth and now it was biting her right in the soul.
Damien, King of Drama didn’t think of any other way to handle this except crashing the most expensive wedding of the year. Maybe he thought he was being romantic, but to Luna, he was just being an arsehole.
And Kyllian... sweet, Kyllian. The kind of man who didn’t demand. He waited. He trusted. He believed in her. She had never felt more like a villain than when she looked into his eyes and saw her betrayal reflected back at her. It was the kind of guilt that crept into your bones and made a home.
Luna didn’t wait for permission.
With a dramatic rustle of tulle and satin, she gripped the layers of her wedding gown in two frustrated fists, lifted it, and spun on her heels toward the door.
"Where are you going?" King Magnus demanded, half-rising from his throne.
"I need a minute, Father," she tossed over her shoulder, not breaking stride. "The testosterone in the room is suffocating me."
The giant throne room door slammed shut behind her with a thunderous boom.