Emeriel was glad Daemonikai had returned to his senses. Whatever had overtaken him that night had been terrifying. Uncontrollable.She could still see the wild, vacant look in his eyes. She could still feel what had happened afterward.Shoving those vile, disturbing memories down, Emeriel thought of something else. The days before that horrible night. Their days together at the cottage.She thought of the male who was her soulmate. Who had never given up on her, even when she had given up on herself.Daemonikai had chased her tirelessly. Relentlessly. He had been determined to prove their bond deserved another chance.Her grand king had stood proudly in court and fought for her. Before an audience filled with those who hated her kind, he declared her his Soulbond. His Woman.And Emeriel wouldn’t lose him over this. Never.“I know that look.”Emeriel blinked, looking at her sister, whose head had lifted again to watch her. How long had she been observing her?Aekeira's brow lifted. “Y
PRINCESS AEKEIRAAt midnight, long after Emeriel had fallen asleep, Aekeira lay awake, staring at the ceiling.Her thoughts were restless, circling back to him.The bruises she had noticed days ago. The tension in his posture. The pain in his eyes.Sleep was impossible.Giving up, she rose quietly from the bed and slipped into the dark hallway. Taking the long, silent walk through the corridors, she made her way to the other side of the royal residence.She hesitated for a moment before knocking. Her nerves was suddenly all over the place.“Go away,” a growly voice barked from within.She knocked again.“Yaz, I swear I will have you beheaded if you don’t send whoever’s out there on their way!” He snapped dangerously.“It’s me, Your Highness,” she faltered, her voice quieter than she’d intended. “Aekeir—”The door swung open so fast she stumbled back.Grand Lord Vladya filled the doorway. His usually well-styled black hair was disheveled. The wild, unfocused look in his gray eyes told
She wiped his arms and hands, her thumbs brushing over the calluses on his palms. Reaching for a small vial of soap, she poured a modest amount into her hands, lathering it before spreading it across his shoulders and back.At some point, he must have fallen asleep again. Because when he opened his eyes, the bath was over, and she was urging him out of the tub.She helped him dress, and now he stood in his nightclothes, her hands guiding him back to the bed.“Here,” she held up a small bottle of potion, bringing it to his lips. “Drink this.”When had Yaz brought the potion? He didn’t remember hearing the door, but it didn’t matter. The liquid slid down his throat with a faintly bitter aftertaste. He was so sleepy his eyes were barely open.“This will sting a bit,” she pressed a damp cloth to the cut on his cheek, just beside his scar. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she dabbed at his wounds. Beside his mouth. Near his shoulder blade.Her scent was like an elixir of some sort.
PRINCESS EMERIELEmeriel stood before the tall mirror, staring at her reflection as Amie fastened the buttons down the back of her gown.The fabric felt soft against her skin, designed in a simple yet elegant style that prioritized comfort over extravagance.Behind her, the faint clinking of glass jars echoed as Madam Livia brewed her final portion of the morning.It’s been four days since she fully woke up. Most of Emeriel’s bruises had faded. Her face looked less pale, and the dark shadows under her eyes were fading too.Though her left arm still ached from time to time, the swelling had gone down, and she could now use it without much trouble. She flexed her fingers absently, with caution.“You look so beautiful, my princess,” Amie let out a wistful sigh, stepping back to admire her work.“Thank you, Amie.” Beautiful wasn’t the word she’d use, but at least she looked better than she had in recent weeks. That was enough for now.“Here,” Madam Livia came to her with a steaming wooden
“Please, get up.” She tried to pull him upright, but it was like trying to lift a slab of solid rock.“I need you to help me here,” she said in a strained voice, bracing herself as she slid both hands under his arms to support him.Another heavy sigh. But, he moved, pushing himself off the floor. As he stood to his full height, he leaned heavily against her, burying his face into the crook of her neck.“For someone who’s only a dream,” he murmured in a muffled voice against her skin, “you smell incredible.”Then, he pulled back, the haze in his eyes clearing. “Emeriel? What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”“I’m fine right where I am.” Her eyes swept the room again, taking in the disorder. “What are you doing, Daemon? This isn’t you.”He looked away. “Well, it seems I do not know myself anymore, anyway.”“Come, let’s get out of here. We can wait in the study while the servants clean up.”Battle warred in his face. He looked at her with pain and hesitation as though he couldn’
The thought of him losing himself that way again was completely terrifying. For one tiny moment, a small, uncertain voice—the voice of the girl whose body was put through the unimaginable—whispered... Run.Take his offer, and run far away."I see the fear in your eyes," his agonized voice was rough. "Oh, Emeriel… where do we go from here, when I’ve put you right back in a place where you have to fear me again?"Her throat worked tightly. Do not waver. Do not falter. "We will get through this," she said firmly. Spoken as much for herself as for him. "I am not running like a coward.""Running does not make you a coward. It makes you a survivor." With self-loath, he added. "Run, Emeriel. Run far away, beyond where these cursed hands can ever touch you again. If I have to resort to binding myself in chains laced with dragonblood and scented leaves from the Forest of Abadin, then you’ll know things have truly spiraled beyond my control."Emeriel took his hands in hers, bringing them to he
UREKAI:In the days of old, the Urekai stood out as the strongest and most powerful beings in the world. The ancient tongue called them ‘fearsome beasts’ for:Like werewolves, they could transform into beasts. Like vampires, they consumed blood.And walked among humans with no one the wiser.The ageless, peaceful, selfless beings preferred to keep to themselves. Despite being feared and distrusted, they never responded with aggression. They granted passage to any species wishing to enter their lands beyond the great mountain and welcomed everyone. But five centuries ago, an unexpected species attacked the Urekais during their one night of weakness. The humans.While protecting his people, Grand King Daemonikai lost control of his mind, going feral. Becoming a danger to the same people whom he had given everything to protect. Although it seemed impossible, the Urekais managed to capture their king’s beast form, imprisoning him in a secure cage, ensuring he could never escape.But
Twenty-one Years LaterPRINCE EMERIEL. “He’s so pretty,” a voice murmured. “It’s the feminine prince,” another one said. The third man had lust in his eyes. “No man should have hair that gorgeous.” Prince Emeriel ignored them all as he moved from the palace grounds into the building, head held high. Just because he was used to the unwanted attention, didn’t mean it didn’t make his skin crawl. He might have lived as a boy all his life, but it didn’t exactly keep him all that safe. Men of Navia would stick their phallus in anything with a hole, especially if it looked remotely feminine. But Emeriel’s senses were always on high alert. Which is why he was probably the only twenty-one-year-old virgin in Navia.That, and his sister, Princess Aekeira, always did everything in her power to protect him. To make sure his secrets remained tightly hidden. A carriage accident had taken their parents fifteen years ago, and King Orestus had adopted them. That tyrant made life a living
The thought of him losing himself that way again was completely terrifying. For one tiny moment, a small, uncertain voice—the voice of the girl whose body was put through the unimaginable—whispered... Run.Take his offer, and run far away."I see the fear in your eyes," his agonized voice was rough. "Oh, Emeriel… where do we go from here, when I’ve put you right back in a place where you have to fear me again?"Her throat worked tightly. Do not waver. Do not falter. "We will get through this," she said firmly. Spoken as much for herself as for him. "I am not running like a coward.""Running does not make you a coward. It makes you a survivor." With self-loath, he added. "Run, Emeriel. Run far away, beyond where these cursed hands can ever touch you again. If I have to resort to binding myself in chains laced with dragonblood and scented leaves from the Forest of Abadin, then you’ll know things have truly spiraled beyond my control."Emeriel took his hands in hers, bringing them to he
“Please, get up.” She tried to pull him upright, but it was like trying to lift a slab of solid rock.“I need you to help me here,” she said in a strained voice, bracing herself as she slid both hands under his arms to support him.Another heavy sigh. But, he moved, pushing himself off the floor. As he stood to his full height, he leaned heavily against her, burying his face into the crook of her neck.“For someone who’s only a dream,” he murmured in a muffled voice against her skin, “you smell incredible.”Then, he pulled back, the haze in his eyes clearing. “Emeriel? What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”“I’m fine right where I am.” Her eyes swept the room again, taking in the disorder. “What are you doing, Daemon? This isn’t you.”He looked away. “Well, it seems I do not know myself anymore, anyway.”“Come, let’s get out of here. We can wait in the study while the servants clean up.”Battle warred in his face. He looked at her with pain and hesitation as though he couldn’
PRINCESS EMERIELEmeriel stood before the tall mirror, staring at her reflection as Amie fastened the buttons down the back of her gown.The fabric felt soft against her skin, designed in a simple yet elegant style that prioritized comfort over extravagance.Behind her, the faint clinking of glass jars echoed as Madam Livia brewed her final portion of the morning.It’s been four days since she fully woke up. Most of Emeriel’s bruises had faded. Her face looked less pale, and the dark shadows under her eyes were fading too.Though her left arm still ached from time to time, the swelling had gone down, and she could now use it without much trouble. She flexed her fingers absently, with caution.“You look so beautiful, my princess,” Amie let out a wistful sigh, stepping back to admire her work.“Thank you, Amie.” Beautiful wasn’t the word she’d use, but at least she looked better than she had in recent weeks. That was enough for now.“Here,” Madam Livia came to her with a steaming wooden
She wiped his arms and hands, her thumbs brushing over the calluses on his palms. Reaching for a small vial of soap, she poured a modest amount into her hands, lathering it before spreading it across his shoulders and back.At some point, he must have fallen asleep again. Because when he opened his eyes, the bath was over, and she was urging him out of the tub.She helped him dress, and now he stood in his nightclothes, her hands guiding him back to the bed.“Here,” she held up a small bottle of potion, bringing it to his lips. “Drink this.”When had Yaz brought the potion? He didn’t remember hearing the door, but it didn’t matter. The liquid slid down his throat with a faintly bitter aftertaste. He was so sleepy his eyes were barely open.“This will sting a bit,” she pressed a damp cloth to the cut on his cheek, just beside his scar. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she dabbed at his wounds. Beside his mouth. Near his shoulder blade.Her scent was like an elixir of some sort.
PRINCESS AEKEIRAAt midnight, long after Emeriel had fallen asleep, Aekeira lay awake, staring at the ceiling.Her thoughts were restless, circling back to him.The bruises she had noticed days ago. The tension in his posture. The pain in his eyes.Sleep was impossible.Giving up, she rose quietly from the bed and slipped into the dark hallway. Taking the long, silent walk through the corridors, she made her way to the other side of the royal residence.She hesitated for a moment before knocking. Her nerves was suddenly all over the place.“Go away,” a growly voice barked from within.She knocked again.“Yaz, I swear I will have you beheaded if you don’t send whoever’s out there on their way!” He snapped dangerously.“It’s me, Your Highness,” she faltered, her voice quieter than she’d intended. “Aekeir—”The door swung open so fast she stumbled back.Grand Lord Vladya filled the doorway. His usually well-styled black hair was disheveled. The wild, unfocused look in his gray eyes told
Emeriel was glad Daemonikai had returned to his senses. Whatever had overtaken him that night had been terrifying. Uncontrollable.She could still see the wild, vacant look in his eyes. She could still feel what had happened afterward.Shoving those vile, disturbing memories down, Emeriel thought of something else. The days before that horrible night. Their days together at the cottage.She thought of the male who was her soulmate. Who had never given up on her, even when she had given up on herself.Daemonikai had chased her tirelessly. Relentlessly. He had been determined to prove their bond deserved another chance.Her grand king had stood proudly in court and fought for her. Before an audience filled with those who hated her kind, he declared her his Soulbond. His Woman.And Emeriel wouldn’t lose him over this. Never.“I know that look.”Emeriel blinked, looking at her sister, whose head had lifted again to watch her. How long had she been observing her?Aekeira's brow lifted. “Y
After them, Lord Ottai's bondmate came, breezing into the room with an elegance that belied her concern. She carried a bundle of fresh roses, their scent filling the room as she arranged them in a vase on the bedside table.“These should brighten your day, dear,” she said with a soft smile. “It’s so good to see you recovering.”Emeriel’s heart warmed by the gesture. “Thank you, my lady,”***As evening fell, the visitors trickled out one by one, leaving the room quiet once more.Emeriel lay propped up against a mound of pillows, her body sore but her mind finally at ease.Aekeira sat beside her on the edge of the bed, cradling a small bowl of steaming broth in her hands.“I told you, I’ve had enough,” Emeriel sighed.“You have not eaten properly in days,” Aekeira dipped the wooden spoon into the chicken broth and brought it to her lips. “Try to eat some more.”“Aekeira…” Emeriel groaned, sinking back into her pillows. “At this rate, I will be fat.”“You should. You have lost weight.”
Hours later, Grand Lord Vladya returned to Blackstone. As he approached the royal residence’s hallway, he came to an abrupt halt.She was there.Aekeira stood leaning against the wall outside her sister’s chamber, eyes closed. She didn’t notice him. Vladya allowed himself to look at her. Really look at her.His chest ached at the sight, and for once, the pain had nothing to do with his bruises or the swollen eye from earlier.She wasn’t talking to him. Hadn’t spoken a word to him in three days.And she avoided him like he carried the plague.Vladya could not blame her, but still it stung.Then her eyes fluttered open, and landed on him. Jerking upright, her back straightened, and she looked away immediately. But just as quickly, her eyes flicked back to his face, her expression shifting into one of shock.“What happened to you!?” Aekeira hurried toward him. Her brows furrowed deeply as she took him in. “Look at your face. Look at…” Her breath caught.Even now, she worried about him.
The murmurs grew louder. “And if his state of mind isn’t troubling enough, let’s examine his actions. Look at what he did to his own Soulbond! The one person in the entire world he is fated to protect above all else." Zaiper shook his head, looking disgusted. "If he can harm her—the woman who is supposedly the other half of his soul—what chance do we have? What chance do you have, any of you, against his declining mind?”“Grand Lord Zaiper, mind your tongue!” Ottai growled.Ottai who was usually the level-headed one, had spent the past few days on edge. Losing his temper easily.Today was no different.He vibrated with anger.Vladya too, was gripping his chair so tightly his claws extended, digging into the wood.The effort it was taking him to restrain himself, to not leap across the room and punch Zaiper square in the face, was so great a stabbing headache split his skull.“We cannot keep deceiving the people, Lord Ottai,” Zaiper turned briefly to address him before pivoting back t