Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POVText content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“This is completely unacceptable! We have a guest on the way,” Monsieur exclaimed in a fit of anger.

“Please, Monsieur, pardon my daughter. She is still grieving, her thoughts are not rational,” Mamà pleaded, sinking to her knees in front of Monsieur. My heart ached, witnessing her beg on my behalf.

“Mamà, please don’t,” I attempted to intervene, but she brushed my hand away.

“Yeah, go ahead and beg, you bloody fool,” Vienna sneered.

I rose to confront her once again, but my mother restrained me. I struggled to break free from Mamà’s grasp.

“Vienna!” Monsieur’s voice grew even more furious.

“What?! Am I mistaken, Father?!” Vienna shouted, her eyes brimming with intense anger as she stared at him.

“I overheard you that night, I witnessed it. How could you do that to Mum, to me?!” Her eyes welled up with tears as she pointed at herself. Monsieur could only gaze at her with bloodshot eyes.

“And you, you desperate home-wrecking harlot…” She advanced towards my mother and struck her, but before her hand could make contact with my mother’s face, Monsieur intervened, halting her. Vienna stared at her father in disbelief.

“Enough, Vienna!” Monsieur thundered as he grasped his daughter’s arm. Vienna wrested her arm from his grip, shaking her head while glaring at her father, feeling offended and wounded.

“Both of you, leave this room at once,” commanded Monsieur, and my mother immediately guided me out of the room.

“We have a guest arriving, and you’re causing a scene!” I heard Monsieur’s voice as we retreated.

“I didn’t initiate it!” Vienna yelled back.

My mother tugged on my arm more forcefully when noticing my lingering gaze towards Vienna’s room.

“Let’s go now, Cercei,” she forcefully dragged me.

We made our way back to the cabin. I settled onto the bed while she rummaged through the cupboard, searching for the emergency kit. I glanced at my arm, the cut wasn’t excessively deep, but it spanned a significant area, which explained the excessive bleeding.

My mother retrieved a chair and positioned herself in front of me. In silence, she tenderly tended to my wound, pouring alcohol onto the cotton pad and gently dabbing it against the wound.

I winced in pain, yet she carried on as if unaffected by my discomfort.

“I’m sorry, Mamà,” I finally broke the silence.

“What on earth were you thinking?!” She erupted, her anger unleashed.

“I know, I shouldn’t have acted that way. I allowed myself to be carried away.”

“But you did! You’re familiar with Vienna’s provocative behavior, why didn’t you simply brush it off as you always do?”

“She called you a slut!” I sobbed, causing her to pause. She set the cotton aside.

“She called you a slut,” I repeated, tears streaming down my face like a river.

“Cercei,” she cupped my face and wiped away my tears. Her own eyes welled up with moisture.

“I asked her about that night,” fear flickered in her eyes.

“What did she say?” Her voice quivered with nervousness.

I swallowed hard, reluctant to repeat Vienna’s horrendous words to her.

“She confessed certain things about you,” I gazed into her eyes, so similar to mine, yet harbouring a multitude of secrets.

“And Monsieur,” I could sense the weight of my revelation as she drew in a deep breath. She withdrew her hand from my face and returned to attend to my wounds.

“Vienna doesn’t understand the whole thing; disregard what she ever told you,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Everything? So there’s more?” I scoffed in disbelief.

“Cercei, what did I tell you?”

“But I am your daughter, Mamà! When I come home and find my father lying on the floor like that, of course, I would seek answers!” I erupted, wrenching my arm free from her grasp and standing up.

“No one seemed willing to provide me with any answers, so I turned to her. I know it’s desperate, but so am I,” I pressed on while she remained seated, head bowed, tears streaming down her face. I felt a pang of guilt for raising my voice at my mother, never before had I done so. But the weight of these secrets was becoming unbearable.

“Is it true?” I demanded an answer from her, locking eyes with her as she pleaded silently for me to stop asking her.

“Cercei, please, I…” she began, her voice choking with emotion.

“Is it true?!” I shouted, my anger erupting into a piercing scream.

She wept harder, unable to provide me with an answer. Frustration consumed me, and I grabbed my hair in despair.

“Answer me, Mamà!” I bellowed, my fury reverberating through the air.

She started to breathe rapidly, struggling to catch her breath. Clutching her chest, she gasped for air. Fear gripped me as I witnessed her complexion grow paler before my eyes. Panic seized me, and I rushed to her side, my heart pounding with terror.

“W-Water,” she gasped.

I swiftly fetched some water and handed it to her. Assisting her in taking sips, I quickly created a makeshift fan using a scrap of paper to provide her with additional air. Tears streamed down my face as I watched her struggle.

“I’m so sorry, Mamà,” I whispered, overwhelmed with remorse. I embraced her tightly, burying my face in her shoulders, pleading for forgiveness. She gently stroked my head, attempting to soothe me.

“Hush,” she murmured weakly, and I cried even harder.

“I want you to make me a promise,” I looked into her eyes.

“Do not inquire any further about your father’s death,” she pleaded. I remained silent.

“But-”

“Promise me!” she interrupted, leaving me no choice. Reluctantly, I nodded.

A faint smile flocked her weary face.

“You deserve the truth more than anyone,” she whispered, her hand tenderly caressing my face. I closed my eyes, savouring the touch.

“But I am doing all of this for you, always remember that. Everything I do, I do it for your sake,” she whispered, gently kissing my forehead.

I place my best trust in my mother more than anyone else in this world. Despite our difficult state in this wretched place, she ensured that something good remained in my heart. She taught me to find the glimmer of light during the darkest depths, to find beauty in all things, and to always choose goodness.

A part of me will forever carry an emptiness, a void left by my father’s untimely death. He was the one who instilled toughness and strength inside my heart. However, I can’t continue digging out into the truth, for in doing that, I am trampling on others. I crossed a line earlier with Vienna, causing harm to my own mother.

The truth is meant to set us free, not to shatter us. If this is what my mother desires, then so be it. I have already lost my Papà, and I can’t bear to lose her too. Vienna’s words gnaw at me, stirring a deep need for answers. Yet, I made a promise to my mother, and I trust her above all. I believe she has her reasons, a purpose behind all of this. All I can do is hope that whatever she is protecting is worth it.

For now, my primary concern must be the consequences I will face. I have harmed Vienna, Monsieur Remus’ heir and the future Alpha of our pack. This will not be taken lightly. I can only pray that I will be the only recipient of their punishment.