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

Chapter 490: Holding the force a little longer while ignoring the searing pain in his belly, Daemonikai watched with cold satisfaction as Zaiper's resistance melted into more pitiful whimpers.

"Please… Your Grace," Zaiper's eyes watered.

Defiance crumbling to dust, he bared his throat to Daemonikai. "Please… Alpha."

"Kneel." Zaiper's knees hit the ground so fast, so hard, Daemonikai thought he heard a crack.

Bending down, he looked into the second ruler's teary eyes. "How dare you try to raise a challenge against me?"

"I'm… truly… sorry," Zaiper's voice choked.

Daemonikai punched him hard in the face. The sound echoed around them. Blood poured from Zaiper's mouth. Daemonikai wiped it with his fingers and smeared it on Zaiper's forehead.

"Where did you get the nerve?" he growled. "Tell me."

"Please, forgive me," Zaiper begged, barely breathing. Daemonikai's pheromones were making him sick.

Daemonikai gripped his jaw. "I'm sick and weakened by poison, maybe that's where your audacity came from, but make no mistake, Dragaxlov, you are still no match for me."

Zaiper grunted as more blood pooled in his mouth.

"You never will be, not now, not a thousand years from now. So save that wounded pride and arrogance for the crowd," Daemonikai growled, grabbing his hair and yanking it hard, forcing his head back. "The next time you defy me, I will drag you into the public square and discipline you in front of everyone. Do I make myself clear?"

Find your adventure at gαℓησν????????s․çоm (uso de "ç" y "о" cirílica)

Zaiper's face flushed with humiliation. "Yes, yes, Your Grace…"

"If I uncover any evidence you had a hand in what happened to Emeriel, I will return," Daemonikai said, his voice cutting like a blade. "And believe me, that is something you do not want."

To deliver the final blow to his pride, Daemonikai buried his face in the crook of his neck, scenting him.

Zaiper whimpered, the sound layered with horror, shame, and self-loathing.

Daemonikai could almost feel his beast shrinking back, retreating into the depths of his mind, cowering like a scolded child, its tail tucked between its legs.

Completely satisfied, Daemonikai released him, both physically and from the weight of his alpha command, striding out of Greyrock. Behind him, Zaiper slumped forward, his head bowed in submission and defeat.

The mix of scents made Daemonikai's investigation a maddening task. Incompetent fools.

If he'd known they'd only muddle the scene, he wouldn't have sent them to investigate in the first place. Their footprints and scents cluttered every corner, making it harder than ever to sift out what truly mattered. But this wouldn't deter him. Three hours later, he was still at the crime scene, retracing the steps Emeriel had taken.

He combed through the garden, over and over, with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Yet still, he found nothing.

Irritation gnawed at him as he prepared to repeat the search again. This time, he shifted partially into his beast form to heighten his senses, focusing his nose to distinguish Emeriel's scent from the web of others clinging to the air. But still… nothing. Very soon, dawn would break. It was time to return.

.

.

.