Page 17 of THE SOULBOND AND HER BELOVED (Beasts Of Wrath And Madness #4)

Chapter seventeen

OSMANTHUS AND LILY

High Lord Herod had spent the entire day catching up with his dear friend.

He told Emeriel about his agricultural ventures, the farmlands he managed across the kingdom, and the quiet life he had built for himself in the years since she left.

In turn, Emeriel confided in him—about everything that had happened both in the human world and since her return.

But what floored him most? Hearing her confirm the rumors that the Grand King’s mind failing again, were true.

The pain in her voice when she spoke of it touched him deeply. And the fact that she trusted him enough to speak so openly about it? Humbled him more than anything.

Now, they walked through the courtyard, heading toward the gardens. The afternoon sun slipped away, making way for the soft hues of evening dusk.

Herod had been pondering her words all day, and no matter how he turned them over in his mind, something did not make sense.

"May I ask you something?"

Emeriel glanced at him, then nodded. "Of course. Go ahead."

"What does the Oracle say about his feral tendencies?"

Emeriel’s gaze drifted over the landscape, the setting sun casting soft shadows across her face. "She remains silent."

Herod was expecting that, still he did not like hearing it.

"Daemon says when she does that, it is either because she does not see that side of things... or she does not want to interfere." Emeriel exhaled. "Anyway, I still find it disturbing."

"But something seems strange. Feral sickness is the deadliest affliction of our kind, but it does not appear without reason," Herod mused. "Our grand king’s mind healed. The whole kingdom speaks of how happy he is these days. This does not make sense."

"Exactly. I have scoured the library, gone through every book I could find, yet none answers my questions or offers further insight into what should be done."

“I am truly sorry you are going through this all over again."

Emeriel’s beautiful face softened into a smile. "It is alright. We will get through this."

Herod studied her carefully. She had changed .

Physically, she remained the same—still radiantly beautiful, poised, elegant as ever. But the Emeriel standing before him now was not the same young woman who had once doubted everything. There was a confidence in her now, a conviction that had not been there before.

There was no bond at all, yet she stood firm. Fighting for what they had, speaking with certainty . Stronger, yet softer. Braver, yet more at peace.

A future Grand Queen, indeed. Herod smiled, feeling a swell of pride.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She slanted her head, bewildered.

"No reason." Herod blinked, shaking off his thoughts. "Forgive me."

Herod caught yet another worker stealing glances at her before hurrying off. "My workers are intrigued. They find it difficult to believe the Galilea they once knew... is now the grand king’s female.”

"I see the way they look at me. And then there is your son." She looked over her shoulder. “He seems determined to follow us for the rest of the day.”

Herod, already knowing what he would see, breathed deeply before he looked.

Sure enough, Dale leaned casually against a tree, arms folded, nudging a small stone with the toe of his boot. When their gazes met, his son immediately feigned deep interest in the sky, as if that had been his focus all along.

Herod pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ignore him."

Emeriel chuckled. "He looks out for you. He is a good male." Then, teasingly, she added, "How do I convince him no harm will come to his father for being friends with his ruler’s female?"

“Do not bother. I have tried— repeatedly . It does not work.” Herod shook his head. "Dale was born when the grand king was still feral, so he grew up on stories and legends. Tales of Daemonikai the Cruel, Daemonikai the Heartless, the Berserker King. Dale has never met him, only knows him by reputation."

The smile lingered on Emeriel’s face as she looked again. “I can only imagine what's going through his mind right now.”

They stepped into the garden, the scent of fresh flowers drifting through the evening air, and Emeriel halted.

"It is still the same," she murmured, staring at the rows of roses and vines woven into the trellises. "I miss this place."

"I knew you would."

Herod remained where he stood, simply watching her, content to observe as she moved from one flower bed to another. Grazing the petals, caressing them with reverence, whispering quiet words to them he could not quite catch.

“So, tell me, my lord.” The words sudden, her tone light as she spared him a glance. “Is there any new female in your life?”

Herod arched a brow.

“I will admit, I worry about you.” Emeriel plucked a rose, bringing it to her nose, inhaling deeply. “I wish you had someone new in your life, a companion to share your days with.”

I am fine. I am not lonely. Had it been anyone else, Herod would have given them that standard answer. But Emeriel was not just anyone.

“That would be nice," he confessed. "A companion would be a good thing... it does get rather lonely behind these walls. But the idea of courting for our kind, is rather terrifying.”

She quirked a brow.

“There is a lot at stake ,” he explained. “You must first develop genuine feelings for someone before even standing a chance at a successful bonding ritual. And more often than not, the ritual fails. Then you are left to deal with the heartache of loving someone who can never be yours."

Emeriel sighed, staring at beds of vibrant blooms. "A true vicious cycle."

***

Grand King Daemonikai had been in his study since morning, buried amidst ledgers, missives from foreign kingdoms, and matters of trade.

Yet, the petitions stood out. The pleas of his people, begging for Sinai’s release.

He had no doubt she had sent word to them, rousing their sympathy, imploring them to speak on her behalf. And they had answered.

Over the past days, the petitions had multiplied, each one urging him to grant her freedom. Soon, he would have to address them. Either stand firm or yield to their demands.

Wearied by the long hours, he pushed back his chair and rose, stretching the stiffness from his limbs. The study had begun to feel stifling, he needed air.

He was to run the woods with Vladya and Ottai later in the evening. Zaiper was expected to join them, but of late, the second ruler had been scarce—so much so that Daemonikai rarely saw him at all.

Zaiper, who seldom missed a hunt or gathering, had withdrawn from court, neglecting his duties and avoiding matters concerning his clan. Instead, he was often seen going in and out of Ravenshadow.

Whatever he busied himself with was of little concern to Daemonikai. His mind was occupied with graver matters.

Like the disappearances.

Females had been disappearing, taken during their heat and never seen again. What had first seemed like an isolated crime revealed itself to have been happening for months. Not a single one of the missing had ever returned.

The crisis bothered Daemonikai as he made his way toward the living quarters. Voices reached his ears, filled with lightness, and untroubled. Emeriel and her sister.

Pausing at the threshold, he folded his arms, observing them.

Emeriel was swaying to the rhythm of music playing in her mind, while Aekeira reclined in a chair, her fingers working a crochet hook through loops of thread.

"Arms move like this," Emeriel said, lifting her hands in the air and twisting them with a playful flourish. "And the hips—like this." She swayed, her skirt flaring as she spun in a graceful arc.

Ah . She was practicing, or perhaps teaching Aekeira the steps for the upcoming Lantern Festival. Her sister, though silent, watched attentively, never pausing in her work.

"Now, a quick turn left, then a dip. Like this." Emeriel spun, her body flowing gracefully.

Something in Daemonikai eased . Smiling as he watched, the exhaustion of his day, the weight of responsibility, all faded to nothing.

How his life has changed, all because of this woman.

Ironic, truly. Daemonikai hated humans. A part of him still did—likely always would . And yet, the brightest color in his world right now was this fearless human woman. His human woman, who painted his life in hues he had never known.

The feral incident should have torn them apart. Shattered whatever fragile thread managed to tether them together. By all logic, she should have fled from him, far from this place. Yet here she was.

Still in his territory. Still leaving traces of her intoxicating scent in every corner of his halls. Twirling in his living room. Smiling, glowing, so fucking radiant , as though she had not endured more horrors and pain in her young life than most would in a thousand years.

A girl who had set his long-dead heart racing . Who now filled the soul he had once thought empty with life .

“Listening is not enough, Keira. You must—” Emeriel’s words faltered as her gaze landed on him. “Your Grace!” she gasped, her face coloring with surprise at being caught. “I had no idea you were finished with your work.”

Daemonikai straightened, stepping further into the room. Aekeira, flustered as well, rose swiftly and curtsied.

“I have only just finished.” He moved to take a seat opposite Aekeira. “Now, I await Vladya’s return so we may join the others for the run.”

“Vlad—I mean, Grand Lord Vladya is returning early?” Interest flickered in Aekeira’s voice.

“He is,” Daemonikai confirmed. Then, without shifting his gaze from Aekeira, he spoke to Emeriel. “Come here.”

A flush deepened the color in Emeriel’s cheeks, but she approached him almost timidly.

“Sit.”

She made to settle beside him, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. She squealed, startled as she landed against his thighs.

Then, averted her eyes, staring down at her lap. "Oh…"

Daemonikai bit back a smile. He did not know whether it was her sister’s presence that made her so shy, but he relished every moment of riling her up.

Her scent washed into his nostrils. Unable to resist, he leaned in, pressing his nose to her neck, breathing more of it in. Holding the slow, deep, loud inhale, letting her settle deep inside him before he released the breath with in a satisfied purr. “You smell heavenly.”

“Dae—Daemon…” she whispered, voice hushed, mortified. Her eyes flickered toward Aekeira, who had suddenly taken a great interest in the paintings along the wall.

His prim and proper little princess. Always mindful, always restrained. It was precisely why he enjoyed making her squirm.

But when she looked at him with pleading eyes, he relented, letting her be.

A voice rang from the hall, announcing Vladya’s arrival. A moment later, the doors swung open, and he entered.

Aekeira’s entire face lit up as she rose hurriedly to her feet.

Seeing her, Vladya’s hard, stoic features visibly softened and he opened his arms.

The girl wasted no time practically flying to him and barreling into his arms.

“Hello, little bird,” he drawled.

She beamed up at him, glowing in a way that was impossible to miss. Daemonikai did not fail to notice the resemblance—the way Emeriel had mirrored that very expression when he had first walked in.

At last, Vladya turned his attention to him, inclining his head in acknowledgment. “Ancient One.”

“You little shit,” Daemonikai remarked dryly, noting the exhaustion on the man’s face. “How did the rituals go?”

“As always, we will not know until the next few days.” Vladya strode toward him.

Aekeira gripped Vladya’s arm as she swayed.

Vladya’s arm tightened around her waist as he looked down at her. “Are you well?”

“Yes, it is just…” She blinked rapidly. “Just a moment. Everything is spinning.”

Emeriel’s attention focused on her. “You lied. You have not recovered, have you?”

“Of course I have.” Aekeira drew in a breath, steadying herself. “There, see? I am fine now.” Her pinched expression eased into a smile. “I told you, it is something minor.”

But as Vladya led her closer, Daemonikai caught her scent.

And went still.

“Your Grace?” Emeriel had noticed his sudden tension.

He lifted her gently, setting her aside, and rose to his feet. Moving deliberately past her, settling his eyes fully on her sister.

“May I scent her?” Daemonikai asked Vladya, calmly.

Vladya’s brow furrowed. “Is everything all right? I—”

“Vladya,” he snapped, adding command to his voice. “I, the grand king, am formally requesting permission to scent one of my subject’s females. Unless you are prepared to defy me, you will obey.”

The room tensed.

Vladya’s spine went ramrod straight, the playfulness vanishing from his demeanor.

A breath hitched nearby. “Daemon?” Emeriel’s voice was soft with concern.

But he did not look away from Vladya, nor did he waver. “Shall I proceed, or will you deny me?”

A long silence stretched between them.

Vladya gave a slow nod at last. “You may go ahead.”

Aekeira, however, pressed herself deeper into Vladya, trying to disappear into his body.

The poor girl. Perhaps she feared Daemonikai had lost his mind again.

Sighing inwardly, he gave the command. “Come to me, Aekeira Maranthine Evenstone.”

Wide, uncertain eyes lifted to Vladya, seeking guidance.

Daemonikai saw the tightness in his friend’s jaw as he ground his teeth together, but in the end, Vladya gave a curt nod.

Aekeira made a small, despairing sound in her throat.

The girl had always been afraid of him, but now was not the time to dispel that fear. In fact, Daemonikai needed it. The sharper her distress, the stronger her scent would emerge.

She crossed the space between them, walking with heavy hesitant steps.

Beside him, Emeriel was taut as a bowstring, but she did not interfere.

“Bare your neck to me.”

A shudder rippled through Aekeira, her fear scent growing stronger, mingling with her natural fragrance. But she obeyed.

Tilting her head, she closed her eyes, breathing quick and shallow.

Daemonikai reached forward, drawing her closer. Lowering his head, he pressed his face to her throat and took a long, deep sniff.

There it was. Osmanthus and lily.

Faint, but undisputable.

“Most times, her male is the last to know, for his senses have long been conditioned to his female’s scent and no longer perceive when something has changed,” Daemonikai recited from memory. “ Book of Fertility and Younglings , page twenty-four.”

“What is going on?” Vladya pulled Aekeira back to his chest, still wound with tension. “Why are you reciting random quotes?”

Daemonikai arched a brow. “Fear not, my mind is intact. For now,” he said casually, stepping back. “And it is hardly a random passage, given that your female is with child. You may want to summon a healer soon.”