Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“Ahh… These persistent mosquitoes seem to have quite an insatiable appetite for my precious blood,” Vienna lamented, swatting at her arms in frustration to fend off the tiny attackers.

“The snug-fitting attire you chose might be adding to their attraction, especially in the heart of this forest,” I dryly remarked, raising an eyebrow as I observed the situation.

“Well, to be fair, I wasn’t exactly informed that we were headed into the heart of this forest,” she snapped back, a touch of annoyance apparent in her furrowed brows.

“One might question whether such attire offers any comfort. You can’t possibly be comfortable wearing that every day,” I remarked casually, my gaze assessing her outfit.

Vienna always seemed drawn to extravagant clothing, which was why she held the title of a fashion icon. However, in situations like this, her reputation for impeccable style wasn’t helping her.

Her preference for form-fitting dresses and short skirts aligns with her status as a princess in their grand estate. However, her interpretation of extravagant fashion is now causing her discomfort.

“Of course, dressing elegantly can provide a sense of comfort,” she responded with confidence.

A wave of dizziness hit me as I rolled my eyes almost instinctively. One could only imagine how Monsieur managed to handle her stubborn personality day after day.

“Good luck being feasted by mosquitoes then,” I remarked casually, shrugging as I turned on my heel, finding a somewhat comfortable spot on a strong tree root.

Though shifting into our wolf forms could provide better rest, the risk of leaving a traceable scent made that option risky. Our distinct smells, especially mine, would be magnified, attracting unwanted attention. Besides, embracing our wolf form would compromise our mental sharpness, something we couldn’t afford given our current circumstances.

“Hey,” her voice reached me, tinged with hesitation. Ignoring her, I closed my eyes.

“Hey!” her insistence grew, accompanied by a pebble hurled my way, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I asked, feigning indifference as my back still turned to her.

She appeared somewhat bashful, her words escaping her lips almost in a murmur. I could detect her slight movements, yet I refrained from turning to meet her gaze.

“Can… I… borrow your jacket?” she stammered, her voice timid and the request carrying a gentle plea.

“Well, this could serve as a lesson to you that wearing fancy and cute dresses isn’t always practical,” I chided her gently as I took off my jacket. I had a long-sleeve shirt underneath, so it worked out fine. And I noticed she clearly needed it. I was starting to feel guilty. Those mosquitos are really keen on making her miserable.

“Yeah, thanks, Mum. Hope you’re satisfied,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm, waving her hand dismissively. She let out a sigh of relief as she put it on.

“Ahh, this feels a lot better,” she sighed with satisfaction, nestled in the warmth of the borrowed jacket.

“Still no response?” Vienna asked as she glanced at her wristwatch near me.

“Nothing at all,” I responded with a touch of despair. My hope was gradually losing.

We had spent the last few hours sending signals, trying everything we could to reach Monsieur. Unfortunately, our attempts had gone unanswered. I even resorted to using Morse code out of sheer desperation. However, it seemed that our signals hadn’t reached him, leaving us both feeling exhausted and drained. It was increasingly likely we would spend the night here, with dawn slowly approaching.

“What if they don’t answer?” She inquired with an air of innocence, sounding frustrated and looking for guidance and answers in a state of uncertainty.

I couldn’t answer her question. I don’t know, for I, too, was trapped in doubt. The North was firmly under Lucian’s control, every inch and structure is a shred of clear evidence of his authority. Even the snow seemed to bend to his will.

Getting out of here on our own was an impractical feat, nearly impossible without external help. Even if our signals managed to reach Monsieur, getting us out of here would likely take a considerable amount of time. Entering and exiting the North was a challenging task for him. He may have countless assassins under his command, but Lucian had his own array of forces ready for his beck and call.

The Southerners wouldn’t win in a face-off battle, especially not here in the North. This was Lucian’s stronghold, where his strength was at its peak.

“I’m sure your father is doing everything he can right now,” I begrudgingly admitted. Although I despise Monsieur with every single strand of my hair, his love for Vienna can’t be ignored.

“Remember, he’s your father too, no matter how much you deny it,” Vienna teased gently, her tone carrying a mixture of playful taunt and genuine sincerity.

“Not in my heart or not even on paper,” my response was definitive, rejecting our blood ties.

“Yeah, you can deny it as much as you want. But blood screams louder, and fate even played crudely as our faces resembled each other,” she whispered softly, a poignant reminder of a connection that exceeded mere feelings.

The painful truth pierced through me, causing my teeth to clench together tightly.

“Blood means nothing nowadays,” I said, gritting my teeth.NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

“A bond easily shed, like spilled liquid,” I added with a hint of sarcasm, highlighting the fleeting nature of this connection.

“Familial bonds endure even the harshest trials,” her response was measured, her words deliberate as she emphasised the term.

“Family? An idea that holds little weight,” I scoffed, my tone dripping with disdain.

“Familial connection means nothing, Vienna. Your emphasis on blood connection is merely a facade,” I dismissed her idea of the shared kin.

“You know what I mean,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“We were never a family, Vienna. You made that clear all my life,” I retorted, my response swift. The echoes of her actions, words, and treatment towards me were a constant reminder that she held a deep hatred for me.

“No, we’re not entirely a family,” she firmly stated.

“We share a bloodline, but the sisterly bond is missing,” she added with a sharp finality.

“At least not in our hearts,” I conceded, acknowledging the truth she conveyed.

“If you despise him so intensely, why did you come with me? Why are you doing this?” Her question hung in the air while locking her eyes on me.

“I have my reasons,” I replied casually, attempting to mask the difficulties beneath the surface.

“Are you planning to kill him?” She smirked as she shot back the question. Her voice carried caution. I looked at her blankly. She stared into my eyes as if trying to gauge their intensity.

“I won’t rob my mother and Lucian of the satisfaction of seeing Remus’ lifeless body,” I said with a sharp edge, my words carrying resentment.

“I think you’re lying,” she countered, her tone confident.

“Your life has been clouded by deception, Cercei. It’s time for honesty to open your mind,” she briefly uttered as if she thought I was being glib.

Her words struck a chord, though I didn’t display how they affected me.

“I have a deep hatred for your father, Vienna,” I ground my teeth as I responded to her.

“I know you’re incapable of hating someone, Cercei,” she snapped back. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest.

“A few nights ago, you didn’t think I could knock you out either,” I countered, raising my eyebrows in response. She glared at me, which elicited a wide grin from me.

“Hate is too strong for you, Cercei. Your innocent heart can’t handle it,” she taunted.

“Oh, don’t worry. My entire soul hates him, not just my heart,” I replied with a sarcastic smile.

“Believe what you want,” she shrugged, igniting a spark of irritation from me.

“After all you’ve put us through, you still doubt my hatred? Your father heartlessly tore out my father’s heart, stomped on it, raped my mother several times, made us servants, and later claimed to love us! Do you think I still have a heart to forgive him? What a shame!” My voice rose, my heart pounding with an intensity as if it were about to burst from my chest.

“You can’t hate him, Cercei. He’s still your father. No matter how hard you try to deny it or hate him,” she insisted, as if she had me all figured out.

“Well, I do now!” I stubbornly declared, my fists clenched in anger.