Chapter 33 Luna
Luna
Our flight approached with the relentless certainty of a deadline.
As I boarded the private jet bound for Paris, I forced myself to confront the impossible reality of my situation.
Pregnant. With Damien’s child.
In the same position I was in before my pack—before my father—kicked me out. Alone and scared to death, with no one to care. No one to help.
When would I learn to keep my legs closed and my heart guarded? Because I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep falling for the forbidden man who vanished at the first sign of trouble. Like Ryder.
Like Damien.
Where was he? Not on the jet, even though the engines roared, and we were seconds away from taxiing down the runway.
Had he fled both the mission and me? Was saving Elliot’s life no longer his top priority if it meant working with me?
I sat in the plush leather seat, staring out the window while avoiding eye contact with Damien’s security personnel, when something moved in my peripheral vision.
I looked up to see Roman, one of the flight attendants, navigating the narrow aisle with a steaming cup of tea. He placed it in front of me.
“Ginger tea,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes. “Captain said there will be turbulence ahead. Might help settle your stomach.”
So they all knew. Fantastic.
“Thanks,” I muttered, wrapping my fingers around the warm cup.
The pilot’s voice crackled through the intercom, announcing our imminent departure. Final preparations. Safety protocols. Words that flowed around me without penetrating the fog of my thoughts.
Where the hell was Damien?
I checked my phone again—no messages, no calls, nothing to indicate he planned to join us in the air. The betrayal stung in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Not just the revelation about Vivienne, but the ease with which he’d walked away.
Five minutes, he’d said. We’d passed that deadline an hour ago.
“Ms. Rookwood, please secure your seat belt. We’ll be taking off momentarily,” another flight attendant informed me.
My throat tightened. “Is Mr. Cross…?”
“I haven’t received any updates regarding Mr. Cross’s status,” she replied, confirming what I already knew.
Of course. Why would the great Damien Cross bother with explanations or goodbyes?
He’d secured the first piece of the Shadow Fang, and now he had his vampire fiancée to help him access the Parisian catacombs.
What did he need with the complicated, disease-ridden ex-shifter who’d inconveniently gotten herself pregnant?
Where was the piece of the Shadow Fang currently? Well, in my underwear drawer, of course. Kidding. Damien had it locked in a vault only he and I knew the code to.
The engines increased their pitch, and the plane began to move. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
Two supernatural pregnancies, two men walking away. The symmetry was almost poetic in its cruelty. At least this time I wasn’t so naive. I knew exactly how to survive alone.
But I’d wanted not to have to.
I traced the ring that still stubbornly clung to my finger and then tugged at it again, a futile gesture that had become something of a nervous habit just today.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Just let go.”
But it remained snug against my skin, a perfect fit for a false engagement.
“What am I going to do, Jade?” I murmured.
“Breathe, Ghost. Just breathe,” she said in my subconscious, her voice kindling both calm and more heartbreak. “We’ll figure it out.”
Somewhere outside, a boom sounded over the roar of engines. That better not have been something important exploding.
I looked around the cabin for someone to ask but found no one.
The plane halted suddenly, causing the tea to slosh close to the rim of my cup.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay,” the pilot announced. “We’ve been asked to hold our position momentarily.”
My pulse quickened despite my best efforts to remain detached and calm.
In the front of the cabin, the flight attendant picked up the phone on the wall. She listened intently, her expression shifting from annoyance to professional deference.
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
The cabin door reopened with a pressurized hiss. And several seconds later, there he stood, his imposing figure silhouetted against the morning light. Damien, looking like he’d walked through hell to make this flight.
His normally immaculate appearance was disheveled. His hair windswept, his clothes dirtied, his expression stormy. In one hand, he carried a sleek briefcase; in the other, a small paper bag that seemed so ordinary for someone like him.
Our eyes met across the cabin. I quickly looked away, focusing on the tea in my hands as if it contained all the secrets of the universe.
“My apologies for the delay,” he announced to the cabin at large, though his gaze remained fixed on me. “We may proceed now.”
The plane resumed its taxi toward the runway as Damien made his way to the empty seat beside mine. He placed the briefcase in the overhead compartment but kept the paper bag with him as he sat down.
The silence between us snapped with tension. I took a deliberate sip of tea, determined not to be the first to speak.
“I had matters to attend to before our departure,” he finally said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
“Urgent wedding planning with some fireworks involved?” I couldn’t help the bitterness that tinged my words.
His jaw tightened. “Luna—“
“Save it,” I interrupted. “I’m here for the Shadow Fang. For Aria, for Jade. And for myself too. Whatever exists between us is irrelevant.”
He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he placed the paper bag on my lap.
I stared at it suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
With reluctance, I peered inside to find several small bottles of pills, packets of herbs, and a folded piece of paper covered in Dr. Felix’s precise handwriting.
“Felix compiled this based on traditional remedies for both pregnant shifters and humans,” Damien explained.
I blinked rapidly, fighting the sudden burn behind my eyes. “You went back to see Felix.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“For both of you,” he said, his gaze dropping to my stomach.
The plane accelerated down the runway, pressing me into my seat as we lifted into the air. Neither of us spoke as the ground fell away beneath us, Paris-bound with all our complications in tow.
“I should have told you about Vivienne,” Damien finally said as we leveled off above the clouds. “It was wrong to withhold that information.”
“Yes, it was.” I kept my eyes fixed on the window, watching the world shrink beneath us. “Just like I should have told you about the growing moss on my feet.”
A heavy silence settled between us, filled with unspoken regrets and the weight of our new reality.
“What are we going to do, Damien?” I finally asked, my voice barely audible over the drone of the engines.
He took my hand—the one with his family ring—in his. His touch was cool against my skin, a reminder of the fundamental differences that separated us.
“First, we find the second piece of the Shadow Fang in Paris,” he said with quiet determination. “Then the third, fourth, and fifth. We complete the artifact and save Elliot, Aria, Jade, and you.”
“And after that?” I dared to ask.
His thumb brushed over the ring that bound us in ways neither of us had anticipated. “After that, we face whatever comes next.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love. It wasn’t even a promise of forever. But as we soared through the clouds toward Paris—toward his vampire fiancée, ancient catacombs, and whatever dangers awaited—it was enough. For now.
The impossible baby growing inside me, the ring that refused to leave my finger, the quest that had thrown us together—perhaps they weren’t coincidences but pieces of a larger pattern we couldn’t yet see.
I rested my head against the window, watching the world pass beneath us in a blur of clouds and distant landscapes. Whatever awaited us in Paris, whatever dangers the catacombs held, whatever complicated feelings existed between Damien and me, I would face them all.
Not just for Aria and Jade, but for myself.
And for the new life that somehow, against all supernatural laws, Damien and I had created.