Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

Manipulating Maria’s emotions to persuade her to help me was undoubtedly cunning. However, in moments of desperation, unconventional methods often become necessary. I was in a crucial situation where I urgently required her help, a need rooted in my desire to talk with Vienna.

Although I doubted whether this was a wise course of action, recent memories of our intense argument just a day ago made me question whether it was a good idea. The physical and emotional wounds were still fresh, and dealing with Vienna seemed risky.

But my inner drive pushed me forward. I regretted letting anger cloud my judgement. My patience had faltered, and I was on the edge of becoming what I hated most.

I regret it, yet a part of me is strangely content, though it makes me feel wicked. I can’t deny that it was the first time I ever stood against Vienna after enduring years of emotional and physical abuse from her. I’m not claiming to be a saint, of course. I dreamt about retaliating against her, but I never anticipated it would cross such a line. I don’t want everyone to think I am just like Monsieur. I am not and will never be like him.

Following Maria’s advice, I stayed up until midnight to sneak out of my room to visit Vienna. Avoiding Lucian’s guards and the constant watchful eyes seemed like a daunting feat. I wonder how she managed to clear the guards out of the halls and turn off the cameras. However, Maria handled these challenges expertly, something I greatly admired.

Vienna was seriously injured, so I had to be the one to approach her.

“Quiet,” Maria motioned for me to hide against the wall as two guards walked by. She covered my mouth. My heart was racing. Maria could face severe consequences if we were discovered.

If Lucian discovered I had disobeyed him, he would be furious. He specifically instructed me to rest. My blood boiled at the thought of him. After he broke the fierce fight between Vienna and me, he didn’t even spare me a glance. He went straight to Vienna and took her away. He didn’t bother to check on me in my room. Jerk! It was Frank who told me I should get proper rest.

“I’m quite scared,” I whispered to Maria as she craned her neck, trying to see if anyone was approaching.

“Shut up, your manipulation still stings, you little bitch. If we get caught, we’re both dead,” she whispered back sharply. A small laugh escaped my lips. I felt guilty for how I had influenced Maria.

“Fine, I’ll shut my mouth now,” I enunciated, pretending to zip my lips. She rolled her eyes and pulled me to Vienna’s room. To my astonishment, there were no guards stationed at her door. I even glanced up at the cameras, but they appeared to be switched off.

I was puzzled by how Maria pulled this off. Her skills were truly impressive. It made me wonder, if she was so skilled, why hadn’t she escaped from Moonstone’s mansion earlier? With her abilities, I assumed she would have disappeared quickly.

Maria’s voice snapped me back to reality as she suggested a plan, “You go in, I’ll watch the door.”

I was surprisingly thankful for Maria’s constant support as we stood outside Vienna’s room.

“Maria, I owe you a lot,” I whispered, hugging her. She responded by patting my back and gesturing for me to go inside.

“Just for an hour, okay?” Her reminder lingered in the air. I nodded silently, mustering courage as I gripped the door handle and turned it slowly.

Vienna was on her bed, surrounded by several tubes, some even were in her mouth. As I moved closer, my hand instinctively covered my mouth, absorbing the sight before me. What have I done? A sense of regret weighed heavily on my heart.

Shouldn’t she have healed by now? Werewolves have rapid healing abilities, faster than regular humans. Could her injuries be so severe that they required such serious medical treatment?

I stood next to her bed, observing her as she slept. The notion that others often brought up, the undeniable resemblance between us, now felt real to me. Undoubtedly, our features shared an uncanny similarity.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Her eyes opened, displaying honey-brown irises that met my green eyes. Though they were different colours, there was a shared intensity and shape that linked them.

Surprise appeared in her eyes, a feeling mirrored by the slight movement at the corner of her mouth as she tried to speak, only to be hindered by the tube.

“I’m not here to fight,” I spoke softly, sensing her attempt to speak. Carefully, I removed the tube from her mouth, giving her the ability to talk again.

“Why the heck did you come?” Her voice was infused with anger once I removed the tube from her mouth.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” I answered calmly, maintaining a steady eyes locked on hers.

“Talk about what? How sorry are you? You’re not forgiven,” she declared firmly. Even in her condition, she’s still hostile.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness either,” I retorted, emphasising my intention.

“Then leave,” she glared at me, despite her struggle to move.

“Don’t act like you’re the one suffering, Vienna. You put me through years of hardship,” I had lived in a situation similar to hers for most of my life, though without the tubes and the bed. She and Remus forced my family to live in a rundown cabin; however, I never complained.

“So this is your revenge?” She countered, her voice still filled with resentment. I took a deep breath, trying to control my own anger. It’s a challenge to remain patient when dealing with someone like her.

“No…” I raised an eyebrow.

“Or did you suddenly gain some courage when you found out you’re also my father’s child?” She sounded annoyed as she spoke.

“Can you just let me fucking speak?” My voice raised, losing my patience. She shot me a sharp look, but she fell silent. I inhaled sharply.

“I’m just… I mean, you…” I found it difficult to put together a clear sentence. I was uncertain about what to say or inquire. My confusion was overwhelming, and even though I had come here looking for answers, I felt disoriented at the moment.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, signaling for me to continue.

“Are you sure about what you said?” I posed my initial question, struggling to find a way forward. She responded with a faint scoff.

“Really?” She mocked my question.

“We both know the answer to that, Cercei. Whether you believe it or not, that’s your problem,” she retorted defiantly. I clamped my mouth shut. Of course, I was well aware of the truth after hearing my mother’s explanation, just that I was still in denial.

“You could be wrong,” I pretended to doubt. She chuckled, but it turned into a cough due to her weakened state.

“You’re really something,” she spoke with irritation, yet a smile tugged at her lips as she shook her head.

“Even after all these years of escaping and running, you’re still the same naive, in denial, and stupid girl I remember,” she added, and her words felt like a slap across my face. She was right, so damn right that all I could do was give her a seething glare.

“I’m not wrong. Look at us. We’re so damn alike,” She trailed off and coughed, a hint of disgust in her voice.

“Excuse the word, ‘sisters,’ but no way, I can’t accept it,” She said the word like it was torture for her.

“Is that why you went here, for me to tell you I was lying?” She asked, but I remained silent. It wasn’t entirely untrue, but not completely accurate either. Part of me wished that was the case.

I wished this was merely a bad dream. I despised how Vienna lied; I struggled to determine the truth. However, this time, I longed for her to lie or for my mom to be mistaken.

I wished she was lying, yet I knew she wasn’t. I could feel it from her reaction.