That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 184: But the relentless onslaught was too much; Emeriel braced himself for the searing pain of an arrowhead.

Then, Lord Vladya's large form enveloped him. His bigger body folded over Emeriel's smaller frame like a shield, protecting him completely.

Finally, they sought cover behind a massive tree. Only then did Emeriel see it-two arrows jutted from Lord Vladya's left shoulder.

"You've been hit, Your Highness!" Emeriel choked. Vladya studied the arrows with detached annoyance, as though they were mere nuisances.

With casual ease, he snapped them free, blood oozing from the wounds, then paused to sniff their broken shafts.

"Dragonblood," he murmured, calmly.

"What does that mean?" Emeriel asked, his worry for the grand lord unexpectedly outweighing his own terror.

"Poison," Vladya's response was curt, almost bored. He tossed the arrows aside, then glanced at Emeriel. "Wait here."

And in a flash, he was gone.

The forest erupted in a sound of horror. Screams rose into the air, followed by the snap of bones breaking.

The wetness of flesh tearing, desperate cries of agony cut short, and something crunching beneath a devastating force.

When Lord Vladya returned, Emeriel noticed his white robe was splattered with crimson, the blood vivid against the stark white.

More spattered his scarred face, and his eyes… there was a gleam in them that made Emeriel's stomach twist with fear.

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He looked as unbothered as ever, as if killing all those assassins was a mere inconvenience. He lifted Emeriel and began to sprint again.

"We have to be fast before the poison takes effect. It is lethal to our kind," Lord Vladya spoke in the same casual tone one might use in discussing the weather.

But, by the time they arrived at Ravenshadow, Emeriel could see how true his words were.

Lord Vladya's inhuman speed had slowed, his once-effortless strides now strained, his breathing harsh.

Emeriel was placed back on his feet, instinctively taking a step back to create some distance between himself and Lord Vladya.

He was fortunate that the grand lord maintained a professional demeanor, keeping his arms firmly around Emeriel's abdomen without venturing any further.

Emeriel's gaze stayed on the grand lord who had just saved his life, and within him, a storm of conflicting emotions battled. Blood from his wound flowed in endless streams. A sheen of sweat beaded on Lord Vladya's brow.

"I thought Urekai had self-healing abilities for physical wounds," the question slipped out before Emeriel could stop himself.

He quickly bit his lip, worried that he had overstepped his bounds.

"We do, and we don't. It's complicated," Vladya replied curtly. "One has to blood-feed first for natural healing to begin. And for injuries like this, a healer is also needed."

As they neared Blackstone, the impressive outline of the estate loomed against the last rays of the dying sun. A group of soldiers stood waiting.

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