Chapter 219 THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Chapter 219 THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA
Sargis's POV
I sat beside her, watching the auroras fold and unfurl, as if the heavens themselves were alive, their colors spilling like molten ink across the tapestry of stars. The sky burned with hues no mortal painter could capture, violets melting into emerald, gold bleeding into sapphire, yet all of it paled against the quiet wonder sitting next to me. She chewed on her banana with that little half-smile she always tried to hide, thinking I wouldn't notice. But I noticed everything. Always.
And gods help me, I couldn't look away. Not from the sky, or from the rivers of fire winding through the dark. Only from her. Always her.
If she only knew the war I had fought inside myself for this woman.
There had been nights when I thought I would lose her, not to another man, nor to fate, but to the weight of her own scars. Nights when her fear shouted louder than her faith, when she pushed me away with words like daggers, and silence sharper still. She had tested every seam of me, torn me open in places no blade ever could. I had bled for her in ways my enemies never managed. Yet not once did I think of letting her go. Not once.
I remember the night she screamed at me that she wasn't enough, that she was too broken, and tainted by her past. That night, I thought I'd lost her forever. I remember how she curled into herself, trembling with memories I couldn't fight for her, no matter how fiercely I tried to hold her together. I remember the moments her voice cracked under the weight of doubt, when she told me love never lasted, that no one could truly choose her. Each time those words left her lips, it felt like the earth split beneath me, not because I ever doubted her worth, but because she did.
Still, I stayed.
I stayed when she built walls higher and thicker, daring me to leave. I stayed when she clawed at me with her pain, when she tried to convince me I would be better off without her. She never understood, she was never the storm I feared. She was the only peace I had ever known.
And now, here she was. My Luna.
The starlight wrapped itself around her shoulders as if even the heavens wanted to claim her. Her laughter slipped into the night, bright and unshackled, her tears fell not as chains but as proof that she had lived, survived, and risen.
Pride swelled in me so fiercely it almost hurt. She had grown into her skin, into her power, and into the place she was always meant to stand, at my side. She had risen from the ruins of her own despair, from the ashes of the girl who once doubted she could ever be loved. She stood now as a woman carved from resilience and flame. And if I were honest, I had grown because of her too.
She had dragged light into the corners of me I had long since abandoned, places I had walled off with iron and silence, believing nothing good could survive there. She had broken me open, forced me to bleed, to feel, and to hope again.
Every fight. Every sleepless night. Every sharp word and aching silence. Every moment, she left me standing in the wreckage, only to return to me with trembling hands and fierce apologies. All of it was worth it.
Because the end of every storm had always been her.
I tightened my grip on her hand, letting my thumb draw slow, deliberate circles against her palm, small motions, but each one a vow carved into skin.
Never again would she carry her shadows alone. Never again would she face the night with nothing but her fears for company. I would be the arms she fell into when darkness pressed too close, the warmth she reached for when winter clawed at her bones. I would be the fire against her cold, the anchor against her storms. Where the world had once shown her cruelty, I would spend every night showing her beauty. I would give her gardens where she had known only wastelands, skies unbroken by grief, and a home so unshakable she would never again wonder if she belonged.
If it meant she never doubted her worth again, I would place the world at her feet.
But even that wasn't enough. Survival was not enough.
I wanted her laughter, deep and reckless, the kind that rattled through stone halls and shook the bones of the palace itself. I wanted to give her mornings soft as honey, sunlight dripping golden across sheets she refused to leave because my arms were warmer. I wanted to give her futures she could not yet imagine, futures threaded with peace, children's voices, and the kind of love no tragedy could fracture.
If it cost me my crown, my blood, and my last breath, I would give it. I would give everything. For her joy and safety. For the certainty that her tomorrows would burn brighter than every shadow in her past.
I bent my head and pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair. The vows remained unspoken, locked inside my chest, but I let my breath tangle with her strands, let the promises seep into the night itself.
Her laughter.
Her tears.
Her fire.
Her silence.
All of it. I wanted to see it, hold it, guard it until the end of my days, and even beyond, if the gods allowed.
My gaze drifted back to her, to the curve of her cheek catching the aurora's light, to the quiet defiance that glimmered even in her softness. She was contradiction made flesh, gentle and untamed, scarred yet unyielding. And I thought then, with a clarity sharp enough to break me, if the gods demanded I fight every battle again, crawl through every pit of despair I had ever survived... I would. Gladly. If it all led me here, to this moment, to her. A thousand times over, I would.
Narine shifted beside me, her eyes lifting toward the sky. The colors played across her irises, and I felt heat swell in my chest until it ached.
My Luna.
My queen.
My home.
"By the way, do you still want to see my wolf?"
The timing made me almost laugh. Leave it to her to be spontaneous.
I grinned, my heart hammering like a drum against its cage. "I thought you'd never offer."