The Missing Luna

Chapter 9: Caelan's POV

Two years later...

——————————————————————————

My mate is weak. She doesn't deserve to be paired up with someone like me. I am one of the princes of hell—the younger one, if I may add—but if I show my father such a weak mate like her, I will not stand a chance to get my throne.

I thought I would never find her, I never did for two hundred years, and then I decided to go to one of my cousin's torture sessions, and I had to feel the connection with her.

She looked so… weak, pathetic, and dirty. I also realized she was still a child; how can my mate and I have such an age difference? It was unheard of.

It didn’t matter; I didn’t want her, but of course, I would not let her go. I wanted to see how much she could stand, but she was a disappointment. She gave up after I made her decide who to save.

My mate couldn’t be so weak; she sobbed and cried for two lowly vampires.

Pathetic.

After that, I tried to continue with my torture, but it was as if she wasn’t there. She was… gone. It didn’t matter how much pain I inflicted on her; she stood silent and didn’t beg anymore.

I loved it when she begged; it made me feel powerful, but so far, I haven’t had that reaction for her again.

Maybe I should try something else, something that might break her again, but what can I do?

I sent another vampire to befriend her, but she didn’t utter a word to her. Then I sent one of my demons in disguise to make her believe that her family was close, but she still didn’t fall for it.

I had to win the throne. My father would soon choose his heir, and I needed him to pick me instead of my brother. I had trained hard for that position but knew he wouldn’t consider me. All he wants is for Draven to take his place.

My older brother has always been the star of the family; my Dad only has eyes for him. He hasn't found his mate, which is why my Dad hasn't given him the throne; otherwise, he would already be King. Draven looked exactly like my Dad; he had jet-black hair and grey eyes, as we both did, but his face was like a copy of my Dad's. He was taller and broader than me and could control his power from a young age while I had to work for it.

A prodigee.

On the other hand, my Mom looked like a ray of sunshine. She had light blonde hair and hazel eyes, and we looked pretty similar, with the same facial structures, smile, and even her dimples.

I hated it. I looked silly, and because of her, I looked younger than I was. Draven was manlier, bigger, stronger, and I blamed my mother for giving me her defects.

I bet that is why I was given such a worthless mate, and I could bet that Draven would be given something better, which is why I had to get the throne soon.

But my Dad had to decide to set stupid standards for the throne.

It was a stupid rule my Dad put in when he found Mom, and Satan gave him his place. I couldn’t believe it; why was he making such a ridiculous rule?

I understand he is in love with my mother, so he also lets vampires roam the place, but it was ridiculous of him to decide that having a mate was necessary to be King. It wasn't. If anything, a mate was a weak spot, something your enemies could use against you.

My mom was a vampire princess, and my Dad met her when he went to control one of his demons who had escaped the realm.

According to them, it was love at first sight.

Of course, it f*****g was; they were mates, they were destined to be with each other, and I find that stupid. I wanted to meet my future partner and see if she was powerful enough for me. I didn't want to be with a mate because of love; it was stupid and didn't give you what you needed.

I had to admit that Hope had become prettier as time passed. Even though we don't feed her much, she still has curves that I could bet would only improve. I still couldn't see her as a woman; she was only fourteen, but I don't think I ever will be. The women I like are different; they don't look like dolls that could break at any moment, are strong and curvy, and comply with every order I give them.

I like rough s*x, and I could bet Hope wasn't into that stuff. She looked like a princess, so soft and sweet. But I couldn’t let her go. She was mine, even if she was a failure of a mate. I needed her for the throne. And yet, how could I present this to my father? The great Prince of Hell, parading a weakling mate before him? He would laugh, and Draven—my perfect brother, who can do no wrong—would take my place as heir.

I could already hear my father’s voice. “Draven is the rightful heir. Look at him, Caelan—strong, capable, and without a mate. He’s already surpassed you.”

I sneered at the thought. Draven. He wasn’t any better than me, but he played the part of the dutiful son. Our father adored him and groomed him for the throne. But the rule was clear—you must have a mate before you take the throne. That was the only thing keeping me in the running, the only reason I wasn’t cast aside entirely.

Well, my other brother and I, but he wasn't interested in the throne; he made that clear to our Dad. He wants to find his mate, so he dedicates his time to traveling around the realms to find her. So far, he hasn't been lucky.

But Hope wasn’t helping my case. I had to make her strong to prove that she was worthy.

Two years of this... and nothing.

I gripped the edge of the stone table, feeling the cool surface dig into my fingers as I stared down at the floor. The weight of failure pressed on my chest. If I didn’t do something soon, Draven would win. And my father would finally cast me aside like I was nothing.

She’s your mate. Break her. Fix her. Make her what she needs to be, the voice in my head urged. It wasn’t mine, but it had been there for a long time. Dark, demanding, constantly feeding my rage.

I could hear my father’s footsteps echoing in my mind, always watching, always judging. He never thought I was good enough, not like Draven.

I slammed my fist down onto the table, the sound of the impact reverberating through the empty room.

I needed a new plan. Torture had failed. Manipulation had failed. Perhaps… perhaps it was time to take a different approach. Something more... permanent. I didn’t need her to love me, but I needed her broken, loyal to me in every way.

I needed to remind her who held her life in his hands.

As I thought about it, a smile curled at the edges of my lips. She had lost everyone she cared about but hadn’t lost me. I was the one constant. Her tormentor. Her mate. Her salvation, whether she knew it or not.

And I would make sure she understood that—whether she liked it or not.

I knew what I had to do next. And I had the perfect person for that.

I summon one of my lesser demons with a snap of my fingers. The creature appears instantly, bowing low before me, its grotesque form trembling in anticipation of my orders.

"Prepare suitable quarters for the princess," I command, relishing the confusion that flashes across the demon's distorted features. "Something befitting her... status."

"Yes, my lord," it rasps before scurrying away to fulfill my bidding.

It's time to meet my little princess and begin this new game.

The corridor leading to Hope's cell is as grim as ever, the air thick with despair and lingering agony. Guards bow and step aside as I approach, their fear palpable. I feed off it and let it bolster my confidence as I reach the heavy iron door that has kept my mate confined for far too long.

With a wave of my hand, the locks disengage, and the door swings open with a groan. The stench of mildew and neglect assaults my senses, but I keep my composure as I step inside.

She is huddled in the corner on a filthy pile of straw, her once vibrant white hair now dull and matted, her emerald eyes vacant as they stare blankly at the wall.

A pang of irritation flashes through me at the sorry sight. This is supposed to be my equal? My queen?

Not for long, I remind myself. This is just the beginning.

"Hello, Hope," I say, injecting a note of warmth into my voice that feels foreign and unnatural. She doesn't react, doesn't even acknowledge my presence.

I suppress a scowl and take a few steps closer, ensuring my movements are slow and non-threatening. "I've come to offer you a chance," I continue, steadying my tone. "A way out of this darkness."

Still nothing. Her gaze remains fixed on the wall, her body motionless except for the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Frustration simmers beneath my calm facade, but I push it down. This will take time.

"I've had your new quarters prepared," I say, undeterred. "A room with a soft bed, clean clothes, and proper food. All you have to do is come with me."

Silence.

I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to lash out. Instead, I take another step forward and kneel before her, bringing myself down to her level. Up close, I can see the hollowed cheeks, the bruises fading but still present on her pale skin. She looks fragile, breakable.

But there's still a spark somewhere deep within her. I know it. I just have to find a way to ignite it.

Gently, I reach out and place a hand under her chin, tilting her face toward me. Her skin is cold to the touch, and for a moment, her eyes flicker, meeting mine with a glimmer of recognition before dulling again.

"Hope," I say softly, almost a whisper. "This isn't how things have to be. You and I, we're bonded. We can help each other."

Her lips parted slightly, and for a second, I think she might speak. But then she closes her eyes, pulling away from my touch and retreating back into herself.

Annoyance flares hotter this time, but I force myself to remain composed. I rise to my feet and take a step back, observing her curled form.

"I'll leave the choice to you," I say, my voice cooling just a fraction. "The guards will be outside to escort you whenever you're ready. The door will remain unlocked."

Turning on my heel, I leave the cell, pausing at the doorway to glance back at her one last time.

"I hope you make the right decision, princess."

As I exit, I signal the guards to stay alert but not force her. This must be her choice—or at least, she must believe it is.

Hope doesn't know what is coming for her; I have something special prepared, and after this, she will either become what I want or end her.

Either way, I win, and that is all that matters.