Chapter Text
The war room was silent at last. The last few human commanders bowed and took their leave.
Maps sprawled across the table, marked with the slow but steady retreat of demonic forces. Reports from liberated territories piled in the corner—settlements rebuilding, children laughing in streets that had known only bloodshed for a decade. The air smelled of candle wax and ink, of late nights and hard-won victories.
Elliot leaned against the edge of the table, his arms crossed, watching Luna as she traced a finger along the border of what had once been North Korea. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line, but there was something softer in her eyes now. Something that hadn’t been there a year ago.
Hope.
"You’ve done it, you know," he said.
Luna glanced up. "Done what?"
Elliot gestured to the reports. "Saved the world."
She let out a breath, half-laugh, half-sigh, and shook her head. "I haven't even saved Korea yet!"
"Close enough."
Just then, his phone lit up. Elliot's heart leapt.
"Speaking of which..." He held up his phone to Luna. "They just restored another comm satellite. Half of USA has internet now. President Bernard says: 'Thank you, Elliot. I know what you and the Queen are doing for us, and we're truly grateful.' "
Luna chuckled. "Guess you're on first name basis with the president of the United States now."
"No. The effort was all yours. Did you see the way he worded his message? He wasn't even trying to hide it. He knows you are making things better."
"He knows we are making things better. Don't undersell yourself," Luna said.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of everything they had endured—the lies, the blood, the impossible choices—hung between them, not as a burden, but as a testament. A shared truth.
Then, Elliot felt the weight of the cross in his pocket again. Father Aldric's cross. Still as heavy as ever even after two weeks.
He turned around to leave, but Luna held on to his hand.
"Elliot..."
"Don't. It's not your fault."
Her fingers tightened. Elliot could have—should have pulled away.
But he didn't.
"Tell me about him," Luna said. "Please."
They ended up on the balcony outside Luna's private chambers, the night air cool against their skin. The city below was dark, but not the oppressive darkness of Lilith’s reign—the quiet dark of a world learning to breathe again.
Elliot shared everything with Luna.
Of his rough childhood.
Of how he found himself outside a Catholic church, starving and half-dead.
Of how Father Aldric had taken him in, fed him, clothed him, and gave him a reason to live.
Of how the church nearly lost all hope the day Lilith massacred most of the warrior priests.
Of how Elliot had volunteered to have his memories altered, so he might work his way into becoming Lilith's consort.
Of how, no matter how dark things got, Elliot would always remember the kindly face of Father Aldric.
Luna wasn't sure if she could offer any words that could help. She reached out for Elliot.
As soon as her fingers brushed his cheek, he collapsed to his knees, his body trembling.
“I killed him,” he whispered. “God, I killed him. I looked into his eyes as he died. And you know what he saw? A monster.”
Luna simply knelt beside him, her gown pooling around them. Her hand hovered for a moment—then rested gently on his shoulder.
“You saved me,” she said, voice low. “You saved us.”
Elliot’s hands clenched. “He was the only father I ever knew.”
She closed her eyes. “And we are here trying to undo all of Lilith's damage. Just as he would have wanted.”
The words struck him hard. He buried his face in his palms, shoulders shaking. Luna shifted closer, pulling him in—not like a queen offering comfort, but as a kindred spirit, as someone who understands that no one else will ever see them as they are—bloodied, broken, still holding on.
Their foreheads touched, and for a long moment, they breathed in sync.
"You are not a monster, Elliot. You were the only one who ever saw the real me. Not Lilith. Not the demon queen. Just... me.
"You gave me hope. If not for you, I'd have given up already. Lilith would've erased me for good."
Elliot’s thumb traced the back of her hand. "Because you gave me hope. You showed me there could be light in the darkness. That we could fight back."
Luna looked down at their intertwined fingers, at the unseen scars that marked them both as...
Warriors? Survivors?
Lovers? The thought sent a flutter through her chest.
"I couldn’t have done any of this without you," she whispered.
Elliot lifted her chin, smiling. "Yes, you could have. But I’m glad you didn’t have to."
Their eyes met. Once, Luna had found his crimson gaze unsettling.
Now, she thought there was nothing in the world more beautiful.
She kissed him first. Not soft. Not innocent. But desperate. Honest. His breath hitched, then he returned the kiss with equal fire.
Luna answered by closing the distance, her hands sliding into Elliot’s hair, pulling him closer.
They stumbled back into the chamber, their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in sync.
This wasn’t like the countless times Lilith had taken pleasure in her body.
This was different.
Elliot’s hands were gentle as they undressed her, his lips tracing every inch of her skin, as if memorizing her. Worshiping her. Loving her.
Luna arched into his touch, her fingers trembling where they gripped his shoulders. "Elliot—"
"I’ve got you," he murmured against her skin. "Always."
And she believed him.
Their joining was slow, tender, a dance of two souls who had been drowning and finally found air in each other. Luna gasped as Elliot filled her, her nails digging into his back, not in pain, but in wonder. This was what it meant to be cherished. To be loved.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Lilith hissed, her voice a venomous whisper.
Pathetic. Weak. You disgrace my body with this—
Luna laughed, breathless, and kissed Elliot harder.
Lilith’s fury faded into silence.
Later, tangled in the sheets, their bodies still humming with the echoes of pleasure, Luna rested her head on Elliot’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
His fingers traced idle patterns along her spine. "What are you thinking?"
She smiled. "That we’re going to win."
Elliot pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I know."
And for the first time since she woke up, Luna believed it.
Not because of armies or strategies or luck.
But because they were together.