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

Chapter 843 Chapter 843: A scream rang out from deep within the forest. A second cry came, closer this time. The sound of men howling in agony. Bones snapping. The wet crunch of flesh. "Emeriel!?" Daemonikai's voice, deafening and furious, shook the forest. She tried to scream, but her voice was gone. Her throat was crushed, her lungs emptied. "Emeriel!" Another roar, closer now-savage, murderous. "I'm heading north!" "Leave her to me," came Lord Vladya's voice, more beast than man.

"If you make a single sound, I'll drive my hand into your belly and tear the little one out myself," the masked soldier growled in her ear. He ripped his hand from her throat and clamped it over her mouth. He dragged her backward, pressing her against him as he pulled her down from the tree. Emeriel struggled, but her limbs failed her. She wanted to scream, to call out to her beloved, to tell him she was there. But her lungs burned, her vision blurred. I can't... I can't... Heavens, not now... please, not now... Darkness closed in. She fainted.

Daemonikai had been introducing Herodis to Ravenshadow and his people when Emeriel's call reached him, forcing him to react instantly. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findnøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Vladya had insisted on joining him, already taking his beast form as Daemonikai partially transformed, both entrusting their duties to Ottai before launching into the forest. The rage coursing through Daemonikai's veins was indescribable. His feet pounded the earth as he surrendered fully to his instincts, letting them guide him to his beloved.

He was half-transformed when he called her name, his claws tearing through enemies, necks snapping beneath his fury as he searched for her. "'Emeriel!'" No response. ⱠⒶⵜẸŞ₸ ₡Ḥ₳₱₸ɆⱤŞ ⱻ glnovєl.ᴏm His anxiety worsened. "Answer me! Just one word, my dear. One word is all I need!" But he got nothing. There was only one thing left to trust: his sense of smell. He needed to follow her scent. After a branch that shielded a quieter area, he stifled the whirlwind of emotions long enough to channel his senses. His nostrils flared, his mind focused on the moment. Focusing. Tracking.

Then, he caught her most distinct scent. And her fear. She had been so frightened. Growling, he moved quickly. The soldiers tried to intercept him, but he dodged them. . . .