Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

Today marked the arrival of the respected Lucian Red at the magnificent MoonStone mansion. The atmosphere buzzed with activity as the diligent servants worked tirelessly to polish every corner, their hushed conversations filled with admiration for the breathtakingly handsome Alpha of the renowned Blood Moon Pack.

At the same time, I was engrossed in arranging many flowers into numerous vases. I let out a deep breath as I looked at the empty vases still needing to be filled. When I stared at my hands, which were marked with several cuts and blisters from rose thorns, I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. Despite the discomfort, I carried on without being bothered, thankful that Maria hadn’t been given the duty of arranging flowers due to her severe allergies, which would have made the task very difficult for her.

“Moved quickly, everyone! Lord Lucian will bless us with his presence in just an hour,” urged Madàm Cecè, her demeanour reflecting both the weight of responsibility and her eagerness to fulfil Monsieur’s explicit instructions of extending a heartfelt welcome to the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack.

“Only in an hour?” one of the young servant girls exclaimed, her excitement was obvious and infectious as the others giggled with anticipation.

Not affected by their cheerful conversation and apparent eagerness, I continued with my duties. Still, I found myself intrigued by this mysterious man who was held in such excellent affection, almost like a respected god. The way in which people spoke about him with deep admiration conveyed the idea that his presence held immense significance.

Even Monsieur Remus himself desired to gain his favour by inviting him here. How exceptionally perfect must Lucian Red be?

Unintentionally pricking myself on the thorn of a rose, a sharp cry escaped my lips. I observed as a single droplet of crimson blood trickled down my finger, the wound appearing more deep than I had initially anticipated. Swiftly, I tore a piece of cloth from my neat white apron, a mandatory uniform for all servants, and created a makeshift bandage. I quickly applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

“Cercei, Miss Vienna needs you in her room,” Madàm Cecè called to me while I was tending to my injured finger.

Freed from my flower-arranging tasks by another servant, I climbed the impressive staircase to respond to Vienna’s call. I gently knocked on her door twice and waited for her to give me permission to come in.

Inside, Vienna sat poised at her elegant vanity mirror, meticulously tending to her gorgeous hair.

“Miss Vienna, you requested my presence?” I spoke to her with respect, my tone carrying a touch of deference.

She turned her gaze towards me, peering at me through the reflection in the mirror. Setting down her brush, she swivelled around to face me fully. Draped in a figure-hugging blue bodycon dress that accentuated her curves, her meticulously straightened hair exuded an air of sophistication, and her expertly applied makeup flawlessly enhanced her features. She was truly a vision of beauty.

“Let’s enjoy a game of hide and never seek,” she declared, rising from her seat and approaching me with each step resonating in the click of her heels. Her smile appeared vicious as I stared at her.

“I want you to conceal yourself today, to remain unseen by people, particularly our respected guests. Do you understand?” she enquired, her eyes locking with mine. I nodded in affirmation, and she leaned closer, her voice a hushed whisper in my ear.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“It would be wise for you to disappear into facelessness. I won’t be the one searching for you but mark my words; if I happen to come across you, you’ll regret the consequences,” she warned, her voice carrying an unsettling undertone.

“Yes, Miss,” I replied, lowering my head. I had grown accustomed to Vienna’s instructions to hide myself whenever important figures were around in this exquisite mansion.

Thoughts of my father’s untimely death flashed in my mind, making me wonder if I should bring up the topic with Vienna. If I could gather the courage to inquire, maybe she would share the answers that my mother had kept from me.

“May I ask a question, if I may?” I gathered my courage, tapping into my inner strength. If my mother wouldn’t provide me with answers, maybe someone else would give it.

“What happened on that fateful night?” I inquired, my voice filled with a mix of trepidation.

As the gravity of my question hung in the air, there was a noticeable change in Vienna’s expression. Her formerly intimidating gaze now held a hint of fear, and she quickly turned away, hiding her face from my sight.

“You shouldn’t even think about asking me that,” she retorted, her voice trembling slightly, yet she attempted to mask her vulnerability with a façade of strength that I noticed.

“But I deserve to know the truth. I want to understand what happened that night,” I persisted, unable to see her reaction as she stubbornly kept her back turned to me.

“Why don’t you direct your questions to your wretched mother?” she hissed with venom, each word dripping with disgust and anger.

My eyebrows knitted together as I heard the demeaning word she used. Anger welled up inside me, driven by the realisation that she could insult me all she wanted, but she couldn’t speak ill against my mother.

“Do not use such language when talking about my mother,” I said through gritted teeth, my jaw clenched tightly.

“Oh,” she whirled around to face me, her expression a blend of indignation and fury, her words failing to match the intensity of her gaze.

“I can use whatever damn word I choose. Your mother is nothing but a conniving seductress who can’t keep her hands to herself,” she retorted sharply, her words seething with anger.

Driven by a sudden impulse, I acted without considering the consequences, and my hand struck Vienna’s cheek with a sharp slap. The sound echoed in her room. I took heavy, gasping breaths, my eyes bloodshot as I took in the aftermath of my actions. I stood there, my fist still clenched and trembling, shocked by my own audacity.

Throughout the years of enduring her bullying and torment, I had never once dared to defy her, let alone raise a hand against her. I, too, was taken aback by my own behaviour, yet an overwhelming anger had consumed me, clouding my thoughts and judgement.

Vienna let out a scoff, a sound filled with disdain and disbelief. Her fiery gaze was locked onto me as she faced the repercussions of my rebellion. Her hands twisted into unnatural shapes, resembling grotesque claws, and her eyes turned a menacing shade of yellow. Her whole presence emanated with intense anger and fury. Instantly, I was thrown to the ground, caught off guard, and startled. Instinctively, my own hands contorted into sharp claws, ready to defend myself.

Vienna’s assault persisted with unrelenting intensity, her claws cutting through the air like razor-sharp blades and her fangs gleaming menacingly. Struggling to protect myself, I summoned all my strength and delivered a powerful kick to her stomach, causing her to crash into the wall and further fueling her rage.

Growling with intensity, she pounced at me, quickly pinning me down as I fought to protect myself from her razor-sharp claws. Recalling her words, addressing my mother with foul language, and hurling insults, stoked a wave of blazing anger inside my mind. My eyes took on a crimson hue, a visible sign of my rising fury. Surprisingly, this rage seemed to grant me a growing strength, allowing me to rapidly shift our positions.

“You do not have the right to speak of my mother in such a manner, you, entitled wretch!!” I declared, delivering a powerful punch to Vienna’s face. A surge of shock hit me as I saw blood trickling from her mouth and staining her face. Frozen momentarily by the outcome of my actions, I inadvertently provided Vienna with an opening to strike back. She seized the chance, swiftly kicking my vulnerable body, causing me to tumble.

In that instant, memories of my father’s lifeless body flooded my mind, and I shut my eyes, covering my ears in a desperate attempt to block out the echoes of violence that had stolen him from us. And yet, here I was, unknowingly perpetuating that very same cycle.

Without my knowledge, Vienna had stood up, towering over me. My eyes widened in alarm as her razor-sharp claws inched closer to my face. Instinctively, I lifted my arms in a feeble attempt to shield myself from the impending attack; however, she quickly moved and grabbed my hair.

“You certainly possess audacity, don’t you?” she hissed, gripping my hair tightly, eliciting a sharp cry of pain from my lips. Blood trickled from the scratches on my arms, and a faint sting accompanied the wounds on my face, likely inflicted by Vienna’s vicious assault.

“I am going to end you and your wretched mother!” she screamed in a frenzied rage while I screamed in agony.

However, the piercing sound of Monsieur Remus’ commanding voice reverberated through the room, shattering the tense atmosphere.

“What is the meaning of this, Vienna?!” he thundered, his presence commanding attention. Vienna’s eyes darted towards her father, still gripping my hair tightly.

“Release her, Vienna,” he ordered, his voice brooking no defiance. Reluctantly, Vienna loosened her hold on my hair, causing me to crumple to the floor, battered and bruised.

“She raised her fucking hand at me, Dad.” She yelled at him.

Monsieur’s attention quickly turned to me. My mother emerged by his side, shocked at the scene unfolding. Seeing me sprawled on the ground, she hurried towards me.

“Oh my goodness, Cercei, what happened?” Her voice was tinged with fear and panic, her hand shaking as she looked at the crimson stains on my limbs. Her gaze then moved to Vienna’s claws, which were coated with my blood.