He clutched her face again. "I love you so much."
Luna leaned into his chest, and he folded her into his arms, resting his chin on her head.
"Morvakar says there's a 75% chance our child will be a Trueblood," Luna said quietly.
"I don't care. I don't care, my moonlight. We're going to have a child—that's all that matters." He cupped her face and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, as if sealing his promise with the gentlest part of himself. "Boy or girl, fangs or fur, it'll be perfect."
Before either of them could speak again, a sudden knock interrupted the moment.
"Are you decent?" Morvakar's voice echoed through the thick door.
"Come in," Damien replied with a resigned sigh.
Morvakar entered. He gave the couple a once-over, noting the way Luna clung to Damien, and the subtle shine in Damien's eyes that hadn't been there an hour ago.
"Well, look at that," Damien said dryly. "We managed to teach you some manners."
"Idiot," Morvakar muttered affectionately.
