"You didn't tell her… why?"
Damien exhaled, long and low. "I don't want her pity," he said finally. "I don't want her to be with me out of obligation. I want her to love me. To see me. Me. I hoped that if she did… if she really saw me and still chose me… it would make dying worth it."
His throat worked around the knot forming there. "I've done all I can for her," he added. "Now I just have to do what I can for my people."
He bowed stiffly and turned to leave.
Lucivar watched him go, a hundred thoughts scrambling through his mind but none with enough strength to stop his son's retreat. The great double doors closed behind Damien with a dull thud
If Damien died without an heir… there would be chaos. The Blood City, already fragile from centuries of political fractures, would fall into uncertainty. Civil unrest, power struggles, rebellion.
And even if—if—Luna bore his child, the realm would oppose a hybrid heir?
And then, there was Gabriel.
