Claiming His Luna

Cercei’s POV

“Shut up!” I retorted, rolling my eyes. Kneeling beside Maria, I gently brushed the hair strands away from her face.

I untied one of the bracelets we had made together back at the mansion, a string of beads carrying memories. I placed it in her hand and whispered softly, “I hope for understanding, but not at the cost of hatred.” I lingered, my stares fixed on her peaceful form, before reluctantly turning away, with Vienna trailing behind me.

The basement surrounded us, a domain of temporary safety. Our time for escape had shrunk to a mere twenty minutes; however, we were hidden inside the mansion’s inner part. Where were Lucian’s guards? Are they at the barracks? A strange absence of their presence carried a burden in my thoughts. Were they occupied elsewhere? How was Lucian reacting to the silent cameras and the missing security team? Maria’s skills were truly remarkable, making me amazed.

Vienna followed in my footsteps, and our roles now reversed as I led the way for our escape. The mansion’s layout was shrouded in uncertainty. Had Maria managed to anticipate the intricate layout? And if so, how?

“Where are the guards?” Vienna queried, her voice a mixture of bewilderment and confusion. Her eyes darted around, searching for a reason behind their noticeable absence.

“Maria took care of them earlier,” my reply held a touch of simplicity.

“How?” Her curiosity prompted her inquiry.

“I have no idea.”

“It’s rather impressive,” Vienna admitted, even managing a hint of admiration.

Surveying our surroundings, I ensured no obstructions hindered our path. We walked toward Lucian’s garage, aiming to find a hidden car. The gate posed a challenge; nestled in a forest, getting through it would cost us valuable time, a gamble we couldn’t afford to try.

“Damn it, we don’t have a key,” my frustration punctuated the air.

The sound of breaking glass, with Vienna’s heels transformed into an improvised weapon, jolted me. She effortlessly accessed the car’s interior and unlocked it from inside. Even though Lucian has lavish car collections, this car appeared ordinary, lacking bulletproof enhancements or extravagant features.

“What are you waiting for? Get in! I’m not in the mood to hold the door for you,” her rudeness was as transparent as her defiance.

I complied, fastening my seatbelt as her skillful fingers tried to ignite two different wires.

Abruptly, the car roared to life. My astonishment almost changed into applause. She had, seemingly, hotwired the car. I stared at her, stunned.

“What?” she inquired, her gaze meeting mine.

“I used to steal Dad’s cars, so stop giving me that look,” she boasted with an odd sense of pride, even though I hadn’t made any such inquiry.

“Buckle up!” she commanded before slamming her foot on the accelerator. I had previously considered Vienna as the perfection of a wicked troublemaker, but I had underestimated her. There was something more terrifying than her affinity for being obnoxious, her driving skills. It felt like my very soul was struggling to keep up with the speed. I gripped my seatbelt as if it were a lifeline, hoping it would be enough to save me if disaster struck.

“Vienna, slow down!” My fear echoed through the car’s interior, my voice barely audible above the engine’s noise and the rush of wind. I swear I was about to pee. She ignored me and laughed. My grip tightened as if clinging to the seat could save me.

God, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I could only ask for your help right now. I didn’t do all those terrible things just to die in a car crash. I repeatedly uttered inside my head.

“We’re racing against the clock! Our time is almost up!” she shouted over the noise. Our conversation was a mere murmur between the hurricane of loud engine roar, the world around us rendered blur by the speed.

“Do you have a death wish?!” I yelled, a mixture of terror and frustration gripping my voice. She responded with laughter, a devilish cackle that sent shivers down my spine.

“To some extent, yes!” her grin grew wider, chilling me to the bone. I gaped at her in disbelief, the gravity of her words sinking in.

Eventually, we reached the gates, leaving Lucian’s estate behind. To my immense relief, Vienna slowed down the car, and I exhaled a shaky breath. While the threat may have lessened, the burden of uncertainty still hung in the air. What now? We had managed to escape the mansion, but the North remained a bleak territory, every local fiercely loyal to Lucian. It wouldn’t be long before he hunted us down.

“What’s our next move?” she queried, glancing at me briefly before refocusing on the road.

“I honestly have no plan,” I confessed, and my hesitation was clear.

“What?!” Her gaze flicked to me momentarily before returning to the road again.

“You kidnapped me, put my life in this dangerous situation, and yet you have no plan?” Her tone carried a touch of drama, a mock display of disbelief.

“Kidnapped? You were the one who invaded that place, and I’m not the one risking your life, your reckless driving skills do! Your actions nearly rendered me immobile,” I retorted, my glare sharp.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“You should be grateful,” she snapped back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Grateful? Oh yes, thank you for turning my existence into a nightmare. My childhood was filled with horrible memories,” I replied with bitter irony.

The car came to an abrupt stop, jolting me forward. Thank goodness for my seatbelt; without it, my face might have ended up parting ways with my body.

“Why the hell did you stop? They might catch us soon, drive!” My voice reeled on the edge of panic as I scanned the rearview mirror for any sign of Lucian’s men trailing behind us.

“We need a plan, a destination,” she blurted out.

“You don’t have any plan?” Panic tightened its grip around my chest as my eyes darted around, searching for potential threats.

“I thought you were supposed to have one,” she retorted, her agitation noticeable.

“I did! I got us out of the mansion!” I shot back, the urgency of our situation driving my words.

“Correction, it was me who drove us out,” she rectified, her focus on her grip around the steering wheel.

“Fine, but it was my plan!” I countered quickly, and our argument feeling increasingly foolish.

“Then draft a new plan, now!” she demanded.

“I assumed you had one,” I pointed toward her.

“Why in hell would I have a plan? I didn’t even know we were escaping until an hour ago!” Frustration wrapped around her words as she swayed between driving and venting her temper.

“So you don’t have an escape plan?” My disbelief mingled with a tinge of distress. She shook her head fervently. I pressed my eyes shut in annoyance. This was maddening beyond words.

“Why don’t you have a plan at all? What was your intention after revealing the truth? Did you plan to stay beside Lucian forever?” I voiced the obvious, frustration and disbelief welling up in my mind. Her plan appeared to revolve around exposing the truth, a concept that overlooked the potential consequences.

“Well, I was just as furious as you when I found out the truth. This wasn’t even a choice I wanted. I hadn’t mapped out anything beyond that,” she admitted with brutal honesty.

“And now, what are we going to do?” My fingers instinctively raised to my head, tugging at it in a gesture of sheer frustration.

Under pressure, I had always taken pride in maintaining my composure. However, at this moment, I felt like I was on the brink of an emotional outburst.