69. Chapter Sixty-Nine - Leigh
Another guest’s sticky lips brush against my flushed cheek as they congratulate me, commending me for achieving what many thought impossible—opening Corona’s first Lunar Witch reentry facility.
Their attention quickly shifts to Chiara Dunn, who stands beside me, radiant in an off-the-shoulder forest green gown.
The guest shakes her hand next, expressing awe at her remarkable feat of finding the cure for vampirism in record time.
The repurposed warehouse, now a halfway house, feels alive with celebration.
As I stand in the makeshift recreational room hosting this lively part, I take a moment to reflect on our accomplishments these last few months.
A band plays energetic tunes amidst the industrial-chic decor of exposed brick and polished concrete, their melodies pulsing through the vast space.
Guests mingle, engaging in lively conversations while enjoying appetizers, while others dance to the infectious rhythms.
Laughter and chatter blend with the music, transforming the once-gloomy atmosphere of the former auto parts warehouse has transformed into a vibrant celebration.
The energy perfectly embodies the halfway house’s mission: Fostering community and joy in those transitioning back into society.
“Thank you for being here,” Chiara acknowledges her admirer’s praise.
“I could not have done it without the Crown and Council’s support and my daughter, Desiree.”
I raise my brow.
Where is Desi?
She should stand beside her mom to bask in this momentous achievement.
Her absence is notable, as is the mysterious disappearance of her date.
As I glance around for her, my reflection catches my eye in one of the freshly scrubbed windows.
The crown atop my head sparkles, and I adjust it to sit straighter.
A year ago, I lived in constant fear, dreading the possibility of being killed or locked away in an asylum simply for being a Lunar Witch.
However, everything changed when I found the courage to defy my family and reveal the truth about the War Letters.
The irony of the situation is not lost on me.
The very people who once sought to silence me now celebrate my achievements.
I’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, and the recognition I’m receiving feels like a hard-earned victory.
“You seem distracted,” Janus whispers to me.
She stands on my other side, wearing a white dress that makes her long, dark hair appear even darker, like an impenetrable void.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I offer Janus a brief smile, acknowledging the progress we’ve made in our working relationship for the sake of the realm.
Our relationship has improved even though she abandoned me in Aurora to deal with Zeus and Alden’s invasion alone.
She and the Council had prioritized protecting the capital, even at the cost of Aurora.
I’ve admitted that their decision to vote me out was partially my fault since I kept secrets and suspected them of foul play.
Janus and the others were focused on preventing the rest of the country from falling prey to the wolves.
I understand their reasoning, even though their abandonment still stings.
After returning from Aurora, Janus, the Council, and I worked to repair the fragile trust between us.
Forces will always try to divide us, but to avoid another invasion, we need to work together.
Ultimately, I secured peace for our nation again by placing my faith in Alden—someone I never expected to become my friend.
I received his wedding invitation last week, which confirms I made the right choice by trusting him that day on the Charon Bridge.
Thanks to Desiree, Alden and Tanith were reunited, and now Lua and Corona are allies once more.
“We’ve been standing here for hours,” I whisper to Janus as I wiggle my numb toes.
She smiles and lifts the long hem of her dress to reveal her practical shoes.
“Tricks of the trade, Your Majesty.” She glances at my heels and compliments my gossamer silver, strapless dress.
My outfit is a nod to the Nebula.
Several months ago, I motioned again to disband the Labor Laws.
To further solidify this, I passed a law prohibiting hospitals from branding newborns based on faction affiliation.
Both supporters and resistors have responded to my efforts to create a more unified and equal society, but I remain committed to my vision.
“Have you seen Wilder?” I ask the women on either side of me.
Chiara’s motherly smile prompts me to scan the crowd for my own mother.
I spot her chatting with Keris Telfour, a few other councilors, and my grandmother.
My mother is a vision in ambrosia pink, adorned with multiple strings of pearls around her neck and woven into her blonde hair.
She must sense my gaze because she meets my eyes, offering a smile and a thumbs-up.
A laugh bubbles out of me; the casual expression is surprising for her.
Still, it’s a sign that she has begun engaging with the world again after revealing the truth about her past with Don and the lies she and my father crafted to protect Fynn.
Your mother is stunning, my father’s ghost whispers.
“She is,” I whisper back.
The people and I have forgiven her, yet gossip columns continue to exploit her distress.
They even spread false rumors that Mother secretly visits Don in prison.
We did go together once, though.
I remember maintaining civility with Warden Grey while Mother and Don spoke privately, seeking closure.
Grey had been glaring at me; resentment still simmered beneath his professional veneer, even if it had lessened over time.
Honestly, it didn’t bother me much.
Warden Grey and his wife, Edith, are at the buffet, heaping food onto their plates.
It’s as if they are trying to fill the hole caused by Bennett’s absence.
He’d relinquished his Council seat just minutes after we returned from Aurora, triggering a special election.
Stellan revealed that Bennett’s parents’ boating “accident” wasn’t accidental at all.
Someone had intentionally harmed them.
That’s when Bennett vowed to uncover the truth.
I received his postcard several months ago but haven’t heard from him since.
Corvina has also fled, admitting herself to Psyche Psychiatric to cope with Fynn’s rejection and his subsequent death.
“I think he is on the dance floor with your cousin,” Chiara says.
Just then, an attendant approaches us with refreshments.
Each councilor takes a drink, as does Janus, who seems preoccupied with Daphne across the room.
Daphne, her hand resting protectively on her very pregnant belly, is engaged in a friendly conversation with Gianna and Stellan Navis, smiling as she speaks.
Daphne must’ve complimented Gianna; Stellan beams at his daughter as if she is the sun, and he’s a planet caught in her orbit.
Gi’s been living with him in Aurora for the last five months, and they’ve been piecing together their family tree.
He’s the mayor there now, although his mission to create an enclave ultimately failed.
I can’t say Stellan and I will ever be best friends, but if Gi is happy, so am I.
I spot Wilder twirling Sama on the dance floor.
Despite our distant relation, she insists I call her my cousin.
Sama and Ravi, having grown up on the run, never had much family, so I agreed to the familiarity.
When Alden offered them the choice between staying in Corona or returning to Lua as official residents, they chose to stay, and I invited them to move into Rowan Palace with me.
I smile as Sama giggles, watching Wilder continue to spin her.
Though my feet ache, I long to join them.
“I think my sister is in love with your boyfriend,” Ravi notes.
I laugh.
Sama is in love with love.
Just the other day, I saw her wistfully waving at the postman.
“There’s much to love,” I reply.
Ravi takes a sip of his drink.
“This is a beautiful soiree. Thank you for inviting me.”
I shrug as Sama throws her head back, laughing at something Wilder said.
I hand Ravi my drink.
“Hold this for me,” I say as he accepts my flute of sparkling wine.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asks as I walk off.
I smile as I call back, “Tell people you are grateful for them being here.”
“But . . .”
I rush off without a second glance.
I’ve been sharing some of my royal duties with Ravi.
He’s enjoyed accompanying me on public outings and has even agreed to embark on a royal tour in my place next year to see the country.
He doesn’t want to share the throne, citing the disastrous example of Ivah and Aradia, and I believe him.
I’m trying out this new thing called trust.
It’s hard for me, but I’m slowly getting the hang of it.
I am proud of you , Aradia’s ghost whispers.
My smile widens.
As I enter the dance floor, Pallas and Isolde wave at me before they continue counting steps.
Isolde—no longer part of my guard but still a friend—is a lethal Blade but a terrible dancer.
However, Soter doesn’t seem to care.
He watches her from the edge of the dance floor, hands balled at his sides as if fighting with himself about whether to ask to cut in or not.
I have no such affliction.
“Mind if I take over?” I ask my cousin.
Sama glances at Wilder before stepping aside.
Wilder’s hand finds mine, his other settling possessively on my waist.
A flush creeps across my cheeks as he gently pulls me closer, the space between us dissolving until our chests meet.
It’s far too intimate a distance, and I could not care less.
We are young and in love.
Nothing else matters.
“Don’t you have important people to talk to you?” he whispers.
Goose bumps prickle my skin from my shoulders to my wrists.
“I am talking to someone important. I am talking to you .” Wilder’s smile deepens, a spark igniting in his eyes.
An ache settles in my palms, a desperate urge to cup his face and lose myself in a kiss.
“Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” he asks as I lead him off the dance floor.
“I want some privacy, so I am giving you the grand tour.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Wilder and I leave the recreational room, the unspoken tension thick enough to taste, and step into the grand foyer.
“This is the check-in area for future patients and guests,” I manage, biting my lip to keep the tremor from my voice as Wilder nods, feigning interest in our detailed surroundings.
He leans casually against the sleek, white check-in counter, but his gaze is anything but casual.
“Where will residents sleep?” he asks, the question laced with double meaning, his voice low and husky as if confiding a secret.
A slow, knowing smile spreads across my face.
We both know he’s not really asking about the sleeping arrangements.
“Upstairs. The apartments are quite spacious. Want to see?” I ask, the invitation hanging heavy between us, thick with the promise of something more than just a tour.
He shrugs, but the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays him.
“I have some time to kill.”
We stumble up the stairs leading to the future living quarters, our bodies brushing against one another, igniting sharp intakes of breath.
I pause, drawing his attention to the artwork displayed on the walls.
My mother handpicked each to make the hospital feel more like a home.
“My mother had this one shipped from a gallery in Glaucus,” I say.
Wilder nods as if interested, but he continues to touch me, his fingers trailing along my bare arms, leaving chills in their wake.
He presses a light kiss to my shoulder.
We pause before another lovely landscape piece of the Aurora Desert.
“This one is my favorite,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.
“Same.” Wilder shifts my long hair aside to plant kisses up my neck, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin.
I gasp as he reaches the sensitive spot beneath my ear.
He captures my lips in a possessive kiss.
“You are distracting me,” I chastise, my breath coming in short pants.
Wilder laughs, the deep sound vibrating through my body.
“Sorry, I’ll be good.”
I shake my head.
That’s the last thing I want.
I want out-of-control Wilder.
I lean in to kiss him again, my fingers tangling in his brown hair, pulling him closer.
Our kiss deepens as he presses me against the wooden banister behind me with the red, orange, and gold landscape framing Wilder’s back.
It really is a beautiful piece, but not as perfect as the view in front of me.
Wilder looks handsome in his black suit and tie, which he loosened when we left the ballroom.
But as much as I love him in this outfit, I want him out of it.
“The rest of the tour is this way,” I say, leading him by his tie.
We make it up another three steps before I push him against the wall to kiss him again, my body molding to his.
His hands explore my hips before sliding higher to graze the underside of my breasts, sending jolts of electricity through my veins.
“Not here,” I chastise.
We stumble toward a room with a closed door.
I turn the handle and freeze; the room isn’t empty.
Vane and Desiree are intertwined on the bed.
Desiree straddles Vane with a silk tie tied around his wrists, their lips locked in a fierce kiss.
My mouth goes dry as her hand traces a slow, deliberate path down his chest.
I clear my throat, and the sound feels thick and clumsy.
Desi twists, her eyes widening as she sees me and her brother standing in the doorway.
She flinches.
“Wilder, get out!” Desi screeches.
Vane, ever the provocateur, merely smirks.
“Come for a show?”
Wilder, who didn’t have a clear view at first, does a double-take.
He turns green.
“That’s my sister, you fucking fuckwit.”
I yank Wilder from the room and yell, “Carry on!”
“Is there an eyewash station in this place? Even better, is the therapist on duty yet? I need to unpack what I just saw. Otherwise, it will plague me for the rest of my life,” Wilder whines.
I practically drag Wilder up the stairs, our footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell until we burst onto the rooftop.
Summer heat hits us as we step outside, and the sounds of the city float up to us.
Spread before us is a stunning view: the entire skyline, its lights like scattered stars against the dark night.
“They could have at least locked the door. It’s like they want to get caught,” Wilder continues, his voice still tinged with annoyance.
I sigh, not wanting Desi and Vane to overshadow what we were building up to.
“Maybe getting caught turns them on,” I purr.
“Besides, you can’t blame them for doing what we are about to do.” I lean in closer, pressing my body against his.
“Now, where were we?” I trail my fingers along the waistband of his pants, daring him to bring up Desi and Vane again.
His grip tightens around my waist, spinning me until my back presses against the cool brick of the building.
Wilder cages me in, his body a wall of heat against mine.
A delicious thrill shoots through me.
I giggle, breathless, but the sound catches in my throat as his closeness ignites a deeper ache.
“You brought us to the roof.” His voice is guttural against my ear, sending a tremor down my spine.
I gasp, instinctually arching my neck to give him better access.
“Do you want people to hear you begging for me in that flimsy dress?”
Gods.
Yes.
“No one can hear us,” I challenge, tilting my head back to expose my throat.
“Is that so?”he asks, his eyes darkening until black, a predatory gleam drowning out the green.
He loosens his grip just enough to slide one hand lower, cupping the curve of my hip, pulling me tighter against him.
“We’ll see about that.”
Wilder captures my lips in a kiss that robs me of breath and leaves me weak in the knees.
The taste of wine on his tongue intoxicates me, a heady blend of defiance and desire.
I melt into his embrace, surrendering to him.
Ready to let him burn me to ash.
His kiss turns urgent, demanding, and he nips at my bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from me as rough bricks scrape against my exposed skin.
I trust the celebrations won’t continue without me for much longer, but right now, I only want to be here with him, lost in his touch, scent, and everything.
Him .
Everything him.
“Silver is officially my favorite color,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Oh, yeah, I thought it was blue?” I manage to ask as his hand caresses my breast, his thumb brushes my nipple through the thin fabric.
The other still grips my hip, holding me close, as if he fears something might separate us.
But I know, with unwavering conviction, that wherever I go, he will follow.
After nearly being forced apart several months ago when the Council pressured me to marry Alden, I am determined never to face a situation where I must choose between the man I love and another again.
“No, it is silver, like this dress, and your eyes.”
With those words, I am completely undone by this man.
“Marry me,” I breathe.
Wilder pulls back.
“Now?”
“One day,” I clarify.
“I want to spend forever with you. I want to share all my secrets, bear your burdens, and have you like this always.”
Wilder swallows hard, his expression unreadable.
Is he not ready for this?
It’s only been a year.
Am I pushing too fast?
Is it because I’m the queen?
The fabric of my skirt crinkles as his hand closes around it, bunching it higher.
His fingers follow, inching upward, stealing the air from my lungs.
I wet my lips, waiting for the next move.
“Ask me again,” he demands in a whisper.
“Hmm,” I breathe, the sound escaping as his fingers find my most sensitive spot.
He applies the perfect pressure above my panties before slipping beneath, confirming I’m drenched and ready.
My eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed.
His tongue demands entry, and I meet him with desperate starvation, kissing him back, only to whimper in protest as he pulls away.
“Say it again.”
“Marry me.”
He smiles, a wealth of promise in his expression.
“I like you in silver, but I can’t wait to see you wear white.” He captures my lips in a slow, deep kiss while his fingers continue their relentless rhythm.
He pushes me toward a place where nothing exists but the two of us, our love, and the promise of forever.