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

Chapter 363: "I know." He brushed his lips across her forehead. "I love you."

Evie smiled, radiant even in the face of danger. She squeezed his hand tightly before letting go. "I love you too, my dearest beloved."

Daemonikai's eyes sprang open, his own breath choking him. There was an iron cage in his chest, squeezing tighter with each shallow breath he took, determined to kill him.

Palming his forehead, sweat slicked from Daemonikai's skin as he fought to steady himself. He felt like he was underwater… drowning and drowning. Control it. Breathe. But it was impossible. The vividness of the dream-no, dreams-still stuck with him.

Two nightmares colliding. One, an erotic recall of Galilea, her touch lingering like fire on his skin, leaving him painfully hard. The other, a memory… the last moments of Myka and Evie. The last time he'd seen them alive.

His arousal wilted, and a roar built inside him, trapped in his chest with no outlet. Daemonikai's body trembled with the force of it, the need to release this anguish, but he could not make a sound. He could not breathe.

Forcing himself upright, Daemonikai stumbled out of bed, struggling to find his footing. Even gravity, too, had conspired against him.

His fingers scraped the walls for support as he staggered out of his room, his chest heaving with the effort of each breath. Wegai had the night off, but his second stood silently at the door.

"Do not follow," Daemonikai rasped in warning before he pushed past, nearly falling through the doorway.

The cool night air hit him, crisp and biting against his fevered skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he dragged in a breath that did not choke him.

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He kept walking, mind blank, steps aimless. No destination, just the all-powerful need to escape the crushing memories.

By the time he became aware of his surroundings, he was standing by the small lake in the Southern Wings' courtyard, his hands clenched at his sides, knuckles pale. Tension coiled tightly on his shoulder blades.

The water's surface rippled gently in the moonlight, sparkling as though in mockery of the torrent inside him. Daemonikai stood there, eyes locked on the water as it danced and simmered in tranquil beauty. He lost track of time. Minutes? Hours? It didn't matter.

The night stretched around him, the sound of night owls blending with the distant howls of Urekai beasts prowling in the distance. He listened to them, letting their wild calls ground him.

When the first pale streak of dawn bled into the sky, he stirred at last, feeling… not calm, but better. The iron bands had loosened enough for him to breathe properly, to think.

Daemonikai turned, walking back toward the fortress. Yet, instead of his chambers in Frostfall, he found himself standing in Blackstone, before her door.

For days, this urge had gnawed at him like blizzards on a carcass, but he had fought it with everything in him. Yet, it seemed, no matter how hard he resisted, he would always be pulled back here… back to her.

What was he doing here?

Daemonikai took a step back. But that was all the moving away he could do. Standing there, rooted to the spot, he fought himself. His fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he hovered outside her door, torn between instinct and reason.

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