The Hidden Luna Queen 2

MAEVE

POV

Eric collided with the marble tile floor with powerful force, the sound ringing so violently, so painfully in my ears that I could not help but flinch with a gasp. Meanwhile, his father towered above him He... he just hit him. In front of everybody...

The commotion between the Alpha King and his reclusive second son brought the bumbling courtyard to a complete standstill, with everyone's eyes glued to the dramatic scene. However enthralled everyone might have been, no one dared to intervene on the young prince's behalf.

Suddenly, I was brought back to Sarah's birthday party... drenched with wine, trembling and humiliated and utterly alone. No one from my own pack thought to come to my rescue.

I wanted to be the one to break that cycle. No one should know loneliness like that.

But it was like I couldn't move. My feet were frozen where I stood.

"What could he have possibly done this time?" Isabelle muttered from behind me.

Chest tightening, I watched as Eric slowly propped himself up, lifting a hand to gingerly touch his cheek. He was turned away, so I couldn't make out the details of his face.

The two royals were a considerable distance away from us, so we could not make out all the words but that did very little to conceal the rage that entwined with the alpha king's foreboding, threatening voice. But I did not need to hear him to feel the pain and the fright that Eric might have felt in that moment.

"What's going on?" one of the women from this morning's circle asked. "Who did the king just hit?"

"He's probably just another incompetent omega," another woman muttered, apparently oblivious to the uncomfortable reactions made by the queen and myself. "They're getting more and more lazy by the day, I swear."

"I'm sure he had it coming, whoever that boy is."

"Alright, everyone, that's enough," Queen Leonora said loudly, rendering the bustling crowd silent. "This is not a spectacle for your entertainment. We thank you all for coming, but I ask that you give the king his privacy and go home." To their credit, their respect for the queen outweighed any interest for gossip, and the crowd began to dissipate.

King Arlan still towered over his son, muttering something to him that I still couldn't quite hear, but once he caught sight of the queen trying to tame the crowd, the anger on his face quickly shifted to that of blatant disgruntlement. And just like that, he spun around on his heel and left.

I watched Queen Leonora's gaze flicker over her son's crippled form before snapping back to that of her husband's retreating figure. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked so helpless, so torn... like no matter what decision she made right there at that moment, it would never be the right one.

But then she took one step back, slowly followed by another.

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered after a long, agonizing moment, tearing away from the two of us to follow the enraged king.

My heart dropped, but now was not the time to mull over such things.

Eric was hurt. He needed help. He needed a friend.

Once the queen had left, Isabelle decided she was done with the scene and left without another word. Not that that impacted me or my decision.

If no one would be there for Eric, I would.

So I ran to him.

"Come on... up you go "I urged, steeling myself to help lift him to his feet. "We need to get you to the palace physician."

He shook his head. "No... no... that's not necessary."

With a grunt, I helped hoist him up. "Yes, it is," I insisted. "Your face is going to swell if you don't."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do," I loudly said, startling him. "One way or another, you're getting help, so either we go together or I'm finding him myself."

Slowly, he nodded and led us through the palace corridors. For a while, there was nothing but silence as we navigated the palace, passing gilded window after window, and different priceless sculptures that decorated the hallways.

"I can't believe he could just strike you out of nowhere just like that." I tried my best to contain the tremble in my voice, stirred by echoes of the past. I could see little snippets of my father in the king, and it was like I was stuck living in the dark depths of his shadow once again.

I heard Eric swallow. And then he mumbled something that I did not quite catch.

Gently, I touched him on his shoulder. "What did you say?

Eric lifted his eyes to meet mine. "It was me," he repeated. The stillness in his voice and face unnerved me. "I provoked him." I couldn't believe my ears. Was it possible he was... defending his father?

"There's not a single excuse in this world," I said, as stern as I could muster, "that could even begin to defend him for doing this to you."

All of a sudden, he let out a short laugh, tinged with bitterness. "The last thing I would ever do is defend that man." The intensity that burned in his eyes slowly morphed into something distant as he again lifted his hand to touch his cheek, still very red and tender. "I... I said something to him. Something that he never expected me to say, and... he did not like what he heard."

"Well, if you insulted him, all the better," I boldly insisted. "I'd consider that well-deserved payback for all the horrible treatment you've endured."

He hummed. For a moment, silence surrounded us once again, until Eric slowly came to a stop.

"You know what... I-I'm sorry, I can't do this. I would rather be alone right now."

I wanted to protest. I didn't feel right leaving him alone, but if this was what he wanted, there wasn't anything I could do to stop him. I certainly did not want to force him or make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. "Please," he begged. The pain in his voice grated at me.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

"Okay..." I ultimately whispered, pulling away.

And then he continued his way down the hall, leaving me with a heavy feeling in my stomach.

I hoped he was going to be okay.

THIRD PERSON POV

Arlan stormed into the privacy of his chambers, closely followed by his queen.

"Leave us," Leonora ordered to the guards standing at the door, "please.”

The two guards exchanged glances. The queen, renowned and loved by all of her subjects for her gentle and caring nature, never gave orders unless it was urgent or a matter of the utmost importance. Whatever was going to happen, it was not going to be good. Once she was finally alone with her mate, she slammed the door shut behind them and whirled around on him. "What on earth has gotten into you?" she demanded, red with anger and humiliation, following him further into their room. I hope you understand how barbaric you came across as-and in front of all those people, too!"

She was met with a frustrating silence as he paced their ornate rug.

She took a step closer. "Well-are you going to say anything?" "He knows."

Leonora huffed impatiently, crossing her arms. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

All of a sudden, Arlan punched the wall, startling her.

“Arlan!" she scolded, dumbfounded as he removed his hand from the newly formed crater in the wall of their foyer. Small pebbles of debris fell from his clenched, white knuckles, but he felt no pain. “What is

"Eric-" he spat, their son's name spewing out of his mouth like the most potent of venoms, "that useless boy-knows." Something frantic swirled in the depths of her mate's green eyes, something haunted and wild that she hadn't seen in a long time. Many things displeased Arlan, but very little could elicit a rage of this caliber in the long time she had been with him. And it was like time stopped at that moment.

Oh, she thought as it dawned on her, her arms falling to her sides. That's what he meant.

It had been years-no, decades since she was last reminded of that. She had long hoped it was something to be left behind in the past, that they could all move on from, but she could still feel the pang in her chest, dull but deep and completely unmistakable. Bandages work wonders at helping wounds heal, but they do not prevent scars.

Her features turned stoic, too difficult to be able to read, even by her husband of nearly thirty years. "It finally happened, then."

"I don't know how he knows." Arlan couldn't stop moving, pacing the length of their bedroom. "I was so careful to ensure he never found out."

She only nodded. She wished she could say she was surprised by this revelation, but she had always known that Eric was too clever for his own good. And, of course, it didn't help that he was forced to live in what was practically solitude, surrounded only by ink and paper and the broad expanse of his mind.

This was inevitable.

"But I am absolutely certain of one thing, Leonora. That boy will never have another moment of freedom ever again.

"If he's telling the truth, this will only make things worse," she murmured, trying to reason with him. "Perhaps it's time to speak with him about this."

"I have nothing," he spat, simmering with loathing, "to say to that boy."

"And why not?" she demanded, her eyes blaring. "It's not like it's his fault."

All of a sudden, Arlan whirled around on her, almost blind in his overwhelming fury, but Leonora stood her ground, meeting his deadly gaze straight on, daring him to make another move.

After a long, tense minute, he rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly heavy with the weight of a million worlds on his shoulders. "You must understand, Leonora," he muttered, "this is for the good of our family. And it is for our family, that I make this decision." Silent tears welled in her eyes for the boy who never asked for any of this.

"From now on," he darkly vowed, "he is to be kept on a tight leash."