Fancy seeing you here, my Prince

Anger. Happiness. Rage. Joy. Despair. Relief.

These were the contrasting emotions Daegal would have let himself get swept in if Naomi woke up from the spell-induced slumber she was in.

However, they were all quickly replaced with crippling worry as he held her cold hands. Her face was as pale as death but her chest moved up and down with each shuddering breath she took.

It had been almost three hours since he plunged that blade into her chest. Three hours since he fully saw those honeyed eyes again. Three hours since he took Nerina's life just as she had taken his father's.

Beneath his anxiety for Naomi, the urge to find a way to bring Nerina back and kill her in the slowest possible way bubbled and writhed but he had to keep a hold on his temper and rage.

At least, till he was sure that Naomi wasn't gone as well. That there hadn't been a mistake with the spells he invested into the ornate, bronze dagger.

"Naomi, can you hear me, my love...? My queen," Daegal murmured into the back