Page 32 of THE SOULBOND AND HER BELOVED (Beasts Of Wrath And Madness #4)

Chapter thirty-two

DRAGAXLOV

“Huh?”

Herod was still smiling. How could he not? He had not heard that name in so long, he was not even certain he’d heard it correctly now.

“Process it,” the Grand King said mildly, folding his arms across his chest. “I will wait.”

“Process what? I do not understa—” And then it struck him. He called me Gustazlion. Dragaxlov.

Herod went pale. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re speaking of Your Grace.”

“Oh, you do.” King Daemonikai’s voice was quiet, but implacable. “The Oracle told me of a youngling who buried his heritage beneath another name. Who wore a new life simply to survive.”

Herod’s back went ramrod straight. “I do not go by that name. In fact, I have not been addressed by it in over two millennia. It does not exist to me.”

“Perhaps it’s time it starts meaning something to you again.” The Grand King walked to the nearest couch, lowering himself onto it. Crossing his legs, he added, “The Northern Throne needs its ruler.”

“With all due respect, my Grace, I must decline,” Herod said flatly.

He felt no anger in him as he said it. No pain, no bitterness.

The old resentments had faded long ago—lost somewhere a thousand years past, when he had stopped caring about his ancestors’ crimes or their legacy.

Time did, in the end, heal certain things.

“I expected as much,” King Daemonikai said, nodding slowly. “You buried that part of your life so deep you never once tried to resurrect it. Not even when the Dragaxlov elders died.”

“Never once did it cross my mind,” Herod answered truthfully. “Were it not for the Oracle, it would have remained a faded past. One that feels as if it never belonged to me at all.”

He crossed to the couch opposite the King, lowering himself onto the cushions with a sigh. “The name Duonavaar is a worthy one. I strove for millennia to ensure it stood on its own merit and all that effort was not wasted. After my mother died, after the long years and harder work, I finally found the courage to return to the heart of Urai. I built a life here. A home.”

Without pride, merely stating facts, he continued. “I started as a reputable farmer, then became a crop overseer, then the village agriculturist, and finally the High Steward of Harvest. I rose, rank by rank, until I single-handedly became High Lord of Agriculture. I did this without the Dragaxlov name and power, and I have no intention of claiming either.”

King Daemonikai regarded him for a long moment in silence. Then he inclined his head. “All I ask is that you consider it. That is the reason for my visit. If, in the end, you refuse, I will understand. We will follow the sacred traditions and select another bloodline worthy of the Northern Throne.” With that, the Grand King rose. “I have other engagements to attend.”

Herod stood and gave a respectful bow. “Thank you for your visit.”

King Daemonikai had nearly reached the door when he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

“There is one question I have long wished to ask,” he said. “Why did your mother leave the Citadel? Why would a good female like Naila abandon her bondmate—who fought on the frontlines for the good of the kingdom—over gold?”

“Contrary to the rumors, my mother did not steal the family wealth. Those were lies, begun and spread by our own clan,” Herod stated in a cool voice. “She was pregnant with me when she fled in the middle of the night because her life was in danger. She was poisoned repeatedly, and had she not been skilled with herbs and plants, recognizing the scent of those poisons in her food, she would have died long before she had the chance to run.”

The grand king remained attentive.

“But one time, she mistakenly ate one of those poisons that had no scent,” Herod's voice was quieter. “Only realizing it only after the first swallow, she was quick in finding an antidote. But after that narrow escape, she made the choice and ran to protect me.” He inhaled deeply. “With father away at war, he could not shield us—so she did it herself, for her life and for mine.”

Herod blinked, clearing the cloud of memory. “But their bond… it severed. She never meant for that to happen. At first, it only went dormant, but through grief—and the way she fled, making certain never to be found—it eventually broke.” Sadness was clear in his voice. “I suppose my father must have been heartbroken. Felt betrayed. That’s likely why he never came for her, not even after he returned from the war.”

There was only the hush.

King Daemonikai nodded slowly. “Thank you for sharing that.” He turned to the door but then paused. Again.

“I will say this now—not as a Grand King, but as someone who holds your best interests at heart. As one whose female has told him the kind of male you are. How deserving.”

Herod looked up, meeting the king’s softened gaze.

“I understand your hesitation, but I ask that you truly consider this,” he said. “I imagine you feel as though your life is behind you. Your bondmate is gone. Your son is grown, accomplished, living a life of his own. And so you ask yourself—what is left? Why take on the weight of the Northern Throne? Why endure the politics, the endless teachings, the burden of leaving behind everything you have known to reclaim an old name?" the grand king's eyes bored into him. "Why move into the fortress, re-learn the ways of governance, train again in the arts of war two thousand years too late, memorize the sacred texts that guide our rulers, and submit to the rituals required before you are crowned?”

Herod swallowed hard. How did the male know exactly what was in his mind?

The training of a Grand Ruler was arduous beyond imagining. The most demanding and unforgiving known to their people. Training began at birth and never ended. He was too old for this.

“I know you may feel your life has reached its twilight. That there is no more strength left in you to start again. But I ask you to reconsider. It may seem that the grief, the long loneliness, have drained you… yet two thousand years is not old. There may yet be another female for you out there. One who is truly compatible, who may walk beside you as you begin again.”

Oh, how I wish for that. The ache in his chest deepened.

To have someone again to care for. To love and be loved. Someone who would color his world and keep the cold away.

“I know it is not easy. Believe me, I know this personally. But look at me, Herodis.” The grand king moved toward him, his expression open in a way Herod had rarely seen. “I am living proof that life does not end when we think it has, certain we’re too old. I, Daemonikai, am five thousand and two hundred years old, yet I have once more found a female I will not trade for anything in this world. She came at the most unexpected time and brought light back into my life. She filled it with color again.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Today, I feel younger than I have in an age. And I’m about to become a father again.”

Herod’s throat constricted, his heart too loaded to speak. Unable to meet the grand king’s eyes.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to remove you from your position as Lord of Agriculture,” King Daemonikai revealed. “I believed if Zaiper discovered your true identity, it would place you in danger. It troubled me for centuries… but you were too perfect at the post, giving me no cause to dismiss you, until two years ago.”

“Wait.” Herodis’s eyes boggled. “What happened with your female… that wasn’t the real reason my title was taken away?”

King Daemonikai snorted. “You protected my female, cared for her, helped her survive. Your deception angered me, yes, but even then, I was thankful to you.”

“Oh,” he… did not know what to think of that.

“Think deeply on everything I have said. The life you believed had come to its end may, in truth, be only just be beginning. It’s never too late to begin living again, Gustazlion Herodis Dragaxlov.”

With those final words, the grand king turned and walked away, the door closing behind him.

Herod stood unmoving, staring at nothing.

“Your Grace! It’s an honor to have you in our home,” he heard his son’s shout, his tone nervous and overly earnest. “Please, forgive my father all his transgressions, and do not take his life away. He truly doesn’t know any better. Wake him any day to speak of crops and farming, and you’ve found the right male—but when it comes to friendships, bonds, and boundaries… my father is still terribly naive. He doesn’t always realize when he crosses territories he should not.”

This boy… Herod grunted, shaking his head. He really does have a poor opinion of his old male.

He heard Daemonikai’s chuckle, low but not unkind. “Worry not, young Dale. I value your father’s friendship with my treasure. But you may teach him still—there is no shame in a son instructing his father.”

Herod heard the firm clap of a hand against his son’s back, followed by the retreat of the King’s footsteps.

Moments later, the door burst open, Dale striding in with a flushed face. “You really will get yourself killed one of these days, Father,” he hissed. “But never mind. The Grand King has given me permission to train you into a better version of yourself.” He jabbed a thumb toward his own chest. “So now, you listen to my instructions.”

Herod quirked a brow. “I will, wouldn’t I?”

Together, they stared at the door Daemonikai had passed through.

“Damn,” Dale muttered finally, awed. “He’s even cooler in person.”

Herod chuckled under his breath. “That, son, is something we can agree on.”

***

There was laughter.

A serene lake.

Gentle breeze stirred the grass along the shore.

A male lay beside the water, a female at his side, their faces veiled in shadow. Voices drifted on the air, soft and indistinct at first. Then it cleared a little.

“My dearest lord,” the female said in a beautiful voice, soft as the breeze itself and full of affection.

The male drew her close. “My dearest lady,”

They held each other for a long moment.

“I wish to ask a favor,” she said. “But promise me you won’t be angry.”

“I can’t promise that. I must first hear what it is.”

The female sighed, a sound woven with both bliss and regret. “Very well. You know I love you.”

He sat up, facing her. “Now you have me worried. Yes, I know that. Now ask.”

She hesitated. “Promise me that if our bonding ritual fails… you will not fall apart.”

He shook his head slowly. “I cannot promise that Tiara.”

Aekeira’s eyes flew open. Breathing loudly, heaving, she could not catch her breath.

The door opened a second later. “Aekeira?” Lord Vladya filled the doorway with his broad shoulders and sharp, concerned eyes. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine.” She dragged in another breath, forcing herself upright. “It’s nothing… just a dream.” Rubbing at her face, she drew a shaky hand through her hair. “You were awake again, weren’t you? That’s why you’re tuned in on me.”

A faint shrug was his only reply. She could see the exhaustion shadowing his eyes, and it hurt her.

He was worn thin. Ever since the truth had come out about Lord Zaiper—about what he had done—Vladya’s nights had blended into his days.

He rarely slept. He rarely rested. His entire focus had narrowed to one goal: finding and bringing Lord Zaiper to justice.

Aekeira gravely worried about the toil it was taking on him.

“Here.” She patted the space beside her. “Come lie with me. Please.”

“I still have work to finish in the study. You need your sleep.”

“You can finish tomorrow.” Her other hand moved to rest lightly on her stomach, where their unborn child stirred. “Tonight, come lie with me. With us. Our little one is restless, and he needs his father.”

Vladya’s fierce protectiveness flared in his eyes. She saw his resistance crumble, and without another word, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

How attentive he was about their child did things to her, and while Aekeira felt guilt for using it to coax him into bed, her male needed rest.

Since Zaiper had taken her hostage to escape, Vladya had become downright suffocating. There were bodyguards at her side every moment of the day. He denied her leave of the fortress grounds outright. His beast was closer to the surface than ever before, always attuned to her, always scenting her.

The bed dipped under his weight as he climbed in and she shifted, giving him space, but he gathered her into his arms, tucking her against him.

A soft contented sigh slipped from her lips, her body easing into the warmth of his.

“What was your dream about?” Vladya’s voice was a low murmur against her ear.

Aekeira hesitated. She didn’t know how to explain it.

“I’m not sure,” she said quietly.

She could not understand—could not even begin to interpret—what she had seen. Yet it had felt too real. Like a distant memory that simply should not have existed.

Her grand lord’s hand rested protectively over the curve of her swollen belly. In the quiet, his fingers traced slow, soothing circles over the curve of her womb. The last of the tension holding his body rigid slowly melted away.

“Do you know why I call you a bird?” he asked softly.

“No.” She turned her face slightly toward him. “But I’ve always wondered.”

“When a Urekai is well and truly happy, they describe it as gaining wings and soaring the skies. I never understood those words until you came into my life.” He nuzzled into the hollow of her neck. “You gave me wings. Because of you, this old male takes his first flight toward everything he ever wished for. There were many great birds in my past… yet it was one small, special bird who helped me soar .”

“Oh, Vladya…” she breathed, her heart aching with tenderness as she nestled back against him, closing her eyes.

“She turned out to be the greatest bird. A gentle dove who opened her wings wide and let this staggering, ragged creature find refuge. In her shelter, he held on, grew new wings, and learned to soar .”

She had never realized how deep that endearment ran. And now, she longed to hear more of it. “Say it again,” she whispered.

“My bird,” his tone was soft. “My special soaring dove, with the strong wings of an albatross.”

Aekeira’s heart swelled so large it felt too big for her body. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Aekeira’s eyes snapped open. She tried to turn in his arms, to see his face, but his hand stilled her gently, holding her where she lay.

“Rest, my princess,” he murmured.

She stilled, but her eyes stung. Her heart was bursting. It was the first time he had ever returned those words.

“I apologize it took me so long to say it.” Vladya pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “But I have always felt it. Right here, in the dead shell you brought back to life. I love you, Aekeira Maranthine Evenstone.”

She sniffled and smiled. “I love you too.”

“Now I have distressed you,” he sounded worried.

She gave a choked laugh, shaking her head. “It’s a good distress.”

He chuckled, tightening his hold around her.

They stayed like that for a long time, Aekeira listening to the rhythm of his breathing, letting the silence wrap around them like a second blanket.

I love you too, echoed in her mind, over and over.

When sleep finally came for her, she was still smiling. “Please, do not leave while I sleep.”

She thought she might have already slipped into dreaming when his voice came. “I’m not going anywhere, my little, great bird."