Page 25 of THE SOULBOND AND HER BELOVED (Beasts Of Wrath And Madness #4)

Chapter twenty-five

DECEPTION AND THE VOICE

Four months later.

Screams echoed all around him. The dungeon reeked of old blood and scorched flesh.

“I shall ask again,” Vladya snarled, dipping a branding iron into the bed of hot coals until it gleamed red with heat. “What can you tell me about the dark mage who dared to tamper with the mind of Urekai’s ultimate ruler?”

The iron hissed as he raised it, reflecting a glow in the wide, terror-stricken eyes of the male shackled before him.

The prisoner shook his head hard. “I don’t know! I swear it! I don’t know anything!”

“Wrong answer.” Vladya pressed the iron to the mage’s bare chest.

The sizzle of burning flesh came as the prisoner’s screams pierced the air.

Grand King Daemonikai turned away, striding for the dungeon’s arched entrance, leaving Vladya to his work. They'd swept through the city and rounded up every mage in Urai, and it was the same useless answer for over a month now,

Fifty mages they had taken, but only three had been dark mages. All held in dungeons where no light touched and no sound escaped, tortured day and night. Yet, none gave him the answers he needed.

His eyes drifted to one of the cells as he passed. A mage strung upside down, a ruin of welts and open wounds on his body. Blood dripped from his back as the whip cracked against him again. The mage’s roars would last no more than another few hours before his body gave out. Iron collars at his neck, wrists, and ankles rendered his magic useless, as it had for all of them.

Usually, Daemonikai was a ruler of patience. He had no taste for punishing the many in pursuit of the one, but that was before .

He was desperate, furious at the world and himself. He was a male on the verge of yet another madness, and he was running out of time.

The guards pushed the heavy iron gates, and he stepped out, the gates clanging shut behind him. “Keep me informed of any new developments."

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yaz bowed low.

Still nothing new. No news on the dark mage. No evidence that tied any of it to Zaiper. The Oracle was still away from Urai, handling 'loose ends,' as she had put it. All remained stagnant .

The only thing different was the passage of time and his increasingly darkening heart.

His blood boiled. Rage, his new companion, walked alongside him.

***

Everyone stood as Daemonikai entered the arena.

Cheers and applause swelled, hands clapping in unison, voices raised in praise. His people waved banners, flowers scattering through the breeze as he made his way to the high dais.

The Grand Rulers were standing, arrayed in their ceremonial regalia, every color and crest shining in the afternoon sun. Reaching his seat, Daemonikai turned to face his people.

“Greatest citizens of Urai,” his voice rang clear. “We stand before you today to celebrate this momentous occasion. The day your First Ruler,” he gestured briefly toward himself. “And his Third—” His gaze found Vladya, who gave a firm nod before flashing a brief smile to the crowd. “—proudly stand before you to announce we are free of mindlessness.”

The roar of the crowd was ear-splitting. Shouts of victory. Fists raised in triumph.

Daemonikai let them revel in it for a moment before he raised his hand for quiet.

“You asked for this day, and so here it is,” he said smoothly. “Drink, dance, and celebrate, knowing your rulers stand fully restored, minds unclouded. Our focus solely upon you, our people. We will carry this kingdom to its next greatness, without the dark thoughts of madness in the shadows of our minds!”

The lies came easily now. He had practiced them until they became second nature. For a male who had despised deception, he had grown skilled in it.

Skilled at deceiving his people. At deceiving his woman.

“Our lands flourish once more. The famine is long past, our crops grow strong, and the rains come of their own accord.” He lifted his ceremonial goblet high. “To a new chapter in our lives. To the next level!”

The roar shook the grounds. Females crowned with garlands threw petals, showering the arena in a storm of color and sweet scents.

And before we take our seats.” He lowered his goblet. “The Third Ruler and I would like to welcome our females, the very reason we stand here today. Our blessings from Ukrae.”

The gates opened, and both princesses entered the arena.

Emeriel and Aekeira smiled brightly as they made their way toward the dais. At five months pregnant, both glowed with that peculiar light often seen in expectant females. From afar, they might have passed for twins. Dressed in identical gowns, differing only in color, nearly the same height, though Aekeira stood a little taller. Both bellies rounded, though Emeriel’s was slightly more pronounced.

As they reached the dais, Emeriel walked straight into his arms.

Human filth , the Voice snarled in his head . It would be so easy to reach inside her and rip the little one free.

Daemonikai held her tighter for half a second, then forced himself to ease his grip. She smiled up at him, but it didn't reach her eyes.

No, the ever-present sadness she thought she hid so well was right there.

“How do you feel?” he asked gently. “Does your chest still hurt?”

“Just a little. The healer made certain I took the potions, so it has eased.”

“Good.” He took her hand, guiding her to the seat beside him, Vladya doing the same for Aekeira.

“Thank you,” Emeriel sighed softly settling herself, hand resting on the swell of her belly.

Hours passed in a blur of ceremony.

Feasts, oaths, and blessings. And through it all, Daemonikai’s attention never strayed far from her.

Even when he spoke with ministers or acknowledged the nobles who sought his favor, his mind was half-turned to her. He saw every smile she gave every noble who approached to greet her.

Look at Lord Jakal, the Voice said. See the way his eyes linger on her. He is unmated, searches still for his life partner. I wonder what he imagines now...

Daemonikai released his gritted teeth. Across the arena, Lord Jakal had taken Emeriel’s hand, bowing low to press his lips against her knuckles.

Does he think of those thighs? The sweet thighs that have not opened for you in over five months? Does he imagine them wrapped around his waist?

Daemonikai forced his locked jaw to relax. Emeriel glanced his way and beamed.

He returned the smile with a flawless, smooth one. She turned back to Lord Jakal, speaking softly.

Those pretty thighs, the Voice crooned. He will take her, and she will welcome him. His mind is clear... he does not mount his female half to death.

“Shove those thoughts away,” Vladya said suddenly beside him. “Do not let them win. Whatever they are telling you, it’s not true.”

“I know, I know. It is just…” Daemonikai exhaled. His fists ached from how tightly he had clenched them and he forced his fingers to ease, one by one. “Sometimes, it's really, really difficult.”

“I know. I have lived this too,” Vladya said with pity.

“Congratulations, Vladya.” His tone was flat, but the sentiment was genuine.

Unlike himself, Vladya was healed fully. He had not suffered a single feral episode in four months. His mind was clear, his beast calm and engaged, more at peace than it had been in centuries. Everything truly did improve since Vladya started drinking from his Soulbond .

Daemonikai did not feed from Emeriel. It caused her discomfort, as the healers had warned. And even if he could, the shaman said it wouldn't heal him like it once did in the past.

“This one is different; it's unnatural," the shaman had told him. "Unfortunately, only the dark mage who wove those threads can undo it.”

“These too shall pass,” Vladya stated firmly.

Daemonikai did not believe it. He wished his faith was as strong as his old friend’s, but in these past months, his hope had dwindled to nearly nothing.

He had not satisfied sexlust in over four months, yet his female believed he was still bedding his bloodhost. Because of that belief, there was a sadness in Emeriel’s eyes that never quite left, no matter how bright her smile and how much love shone in her blue eyes.

Tonight, as on so many nights, he was expected to visit Sinai first, then return to her chamber, and hold her while she slept. Whenever Emeriel thought he'd fallen asleep, she let her muffled cries spill.

It hurt Daemonikai immensely that she was going through this pregnancy sad, but they had gotten to a point where he had no idea what to do.

She did not know he'd not touched another female. That the feral episodes still came. Only Vladya and Ottai knew, and only they helped with the measures Daemonikai had taken.

When Daemonikai felt the signs, he went willingly to Blackstone’s deepest underground chamber. There, Vladya bound him in chains of reinforced iron laced with toxins, fortified doors locked. He remained there for twenty-four hours until the storm passed.

As far as his people were concerned, their king was whole again. His mind clear as the first light of dawn. As far as Emeriel was concerned, his madness was controlled, because he was satisfying all his basic instincts. Deceptions he wore like a crown of thorns.

While the people feasted, he watched her from his high seat. She added fruit to her basket at the fruit region. A young male hurried forward to take it from her, protective of her as so many had become since the pregnancy and Emeriel smiled at the youngling in gratitude.

Daemonikai’s stomach turned inside out.

Is that smile not supposed to be for you? Why does she bestow it so freely on some random male?

He dug his fingers into the arm of his throne, but his expression did not shift.

Human scum. Perhaps she wants them to hold her down and satisfy those pregnancy-driven cravings she has denied you for all these long, lonely nights. The Voice turned conspiratorial. Why not stop playing the righteous king and take what you want? Hold her down and take. Ignore the screams, forget honor, fuck control, and screw the hell out of her. Just… take. You have done it before.

Daemonikai shot to his feet and walked. Past the tables. Past the highborn guests. Past the celebrating crowds. Ignoring the startled glances following him.

No one stopped him; no one dared. His strides were long, his rage was breathing .

He made his way behind the gardens, where no prying eyes could follow. There, out of sight, he leaned hard against the nearest wall and drove his forehead into it.

Growling and snarling, he breathed noisily as his head fell forward again and again.

The pain dulled the Voice, driving it back into the recesses of his mind.

It rarely got this bad, but when it did, it was always a sign that another feral episode was coming. Soon.

On the fifth strike, a hand caught him, sliding between his head and the wall. “Stop. Stop, Daemon.”

Daemonikai barely heard the words, but he felt them. Even through his fury and the pounding in his skull, he heard the pain in Vladya’s voice.

Daemonikai started laughing. Low, bitter, harsh, blood trickling down from his brow, hot against his skin.

I really hit rock bottom this time.

***

Emeriel looked out the window into the night, willing herself not to tap her foot or pace the length of the chamber as she so often did on nights like this.

She was waiting, when she should not be. She should be asleep. The day's celebration had left her exhausted, but sleep fled from her on nights when her Beloved lay in another female's arms.

I should be used to it by now. It had been four months. Surely, it should not hurt like this anymore.

Yet, it did. Like a burning sword shoved deep into her heart, twisted in, and left there.

It’s all for the best.

"Look on the bright side," she said into the silence. "He's no longer suffering or in pain. Today he was even celebrated. They all cheered for him, for being free of madness.”

A flutter stirred in her belly.

The pain in her chest eased just a little as she pressed a hand to cradle the life growing in her. Recently, she had begun to feel the movements.

Small, gentle kicks, like whispers of wings against her womb. The first time it had happened, she had wept with joy and rushed to tell Aekeira. Her sister had smiled through tears, eager for the moment she would feel the same within herself.

This young one… this beautiful life they had created together brought her comfort, when so little else could. Hope that perhaps, in time, everything might be well again.

Her gaze drifted upward to the sky and its twinkling stars.

Is Mistress Sinai whispering all her love and adoration into his ear right now?

Emeriel expelled a shaky breath and tried not to think of it.

Tried.

She is probably reminding him of all your inadequacies. She has a beast too. She can match his appetites in every way and form, not like you. Look at the broken thing you became when he truly unleashed on you. What kind of lifemate can you possibly be if you cannot take what he gives?

A tear slipped free as she stared unblinking ahead.

What kind of lifemate cannot bear the touch of her Beloved? Here you are, starved for his touch, so hungry for it that it’s driving you insane, yet when he nears you in that way, you shut down.

More tears trailed down her cheeks.

When he tries to enter your body, you freeze. Wither.

So inadequate.

No wonder the mistress smirks at you whenever your paths cross. That look of knowing and triumph she gives you is because you're the punchline of a masterfully delivered jest right now.

“Please stop... I beg you.” Her shoulders trembled as fresh tears fell. “Why do you lie awake when the world is asleep, hurting yourself like this? Stop doing this to yourself.”

Then, there was the failing vision. The colors that came and went with no cause or reason. Another weakness. Another thing she could not control.

Emeriel had no idea how long she stood there in the dead of night, watching stars she did not really see.