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

Chapter 320: "Time to sleep, princess." He lifted her with care and gently laid her on the bed, then sat beside her, stroking her hair. "You're a very strong girl, Emeriel. No wonder fate chose you to be a grand queen. You fought this battle and won. I am proud of you."

Wouldn't it be easier if this male were her Soulbond?

Wouldn't her life be less complicated if he were the one her heart longed for, the one her soul was tied to?

Emeriel drifted off to sleep. Life was so unfair. GRAND KING DAEMONIKAI

Grand King Daemonikai bolted upright, his chest heaving as he fought for breath.

The remnants of watching his son take his last breath clung to him as he staggered to the window. He gasped for air, watching the first rays of dawn paint the sky.

His chest ached, and his heart burned.

But the suffocating discomfort that woke him was something else. Someone else's pain. So vivid and real, as if it were his own.

A long draught of water did little to soothe his parched throat. He returned to the window, his gaze sweeping over the fields below, painted in hues of gold and amber.

The misery that pulled Daemonikai from the dark hands of his nightmare, dragging him back to his fractured reality, was beginning to fade, leaving him with questions. Questions he could no longer ignore. His family was gone.

There was no one else with such a profound, personal connection to him. So, whose pain had he just felt?

Dressing in his robe, Daemonikai strode out of his chambers.

Time to get answers.

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And he knew exactly where to get them.

His guards snapped to attention, and Wegai approached, awaiting his command.

"Blackstone," Daemonikai ordered, marching forward. It was time to confront Vladya.

GRAND LORD VLADYA

"You know you want to. Go to her."

Grand Lord Vladya squeezed his eyes shut, but the insistent voice refused to be silenced.

"Spread her out on the bed, and fuck her with your cock. Hard, rough, make it hurt. Make her scream. Make her bleed."

Was it his soullessness, the feral madness, or simply the darkness festering inside him? Vladya couldn't say. The thoughts in his head grew more twisted each day. He fought them tooth and nail, knowing he could never do that to Aekeira again.

He wouldn't take her by force. Not anymore. She didn't deserve the dark desires he harbored.

Fine, forget her. Go hunting. Kill some humans. Ten? Fifty? What difference does it make?

His fingers dug into his arms, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

Tie her up here, in your territory. She can never get away. She'll look good wearing the mark of your whip. Red stripes marring such perfect skin. Your marks, all of them. Because she's yours. No one else.

What he needed was a good run. Rising abruptly, he donned his robes and headed for the door. "Do not follow me," he barked over his shoulder.

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