Page 38 of THE SOULBOND AND HER BELOVED (Beasts Of Wrath And Madness #4)

Chapter thirty-eight

MY FAILING VISION

“I see nothing wrong with your eyes, Princess.”

Emeriel stared at the eye healer, shaking her head slowly. “No, you don’t understand. I see colors. And they’re even more vivid now. Eyes in proper condition shouldn’t see colors, Healer.”

The Urekai woman packing her materials, paused. She turned to face Emeriel fully, expression unreadable. “Tell me more about these colors you see.”

“There’s not much to tell. I can’t name the colors; they’re not ones I recognize, and they’re not always there. They come and go. Sometimes I see them when I’m looking at someone. I—” She exhaled, frustration bleeding into her voice. “I don’t know how to put it into words.”

The healer folded her arms thoughtfully. “My opinion? It may be connected to your pregnancy. Everyone experiences it differently. This may be your body’s unique reaction. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Emeriel almost told her that Aekeira, who was also with child, hadn’t mentioned any such symptoms. But then again, her belly was already larger than Aekeira’s, despite them having conceived the same night. Perhaps the healer was right. No two pregnancies were ever truly the same, and symptoms vary wildly, even between sisters.

Still, doubt lingered. Could this truly be some strange symptom of pregnancy?

The question stayed with her as she stepped out of the healer’s dwelling, making her way toward the main fortress. She still found herself surprised by how vast Ravenshadow truly was—new corridors and hidden lanes seemed to reveal themselves each day, each one filled with lives and lifestyles so different from what she had known.

Back in Frostfall, she approached the Royal Residence when a soldier intercepted her path with a crisp bow.

“A letter has arrived addressed to the Grand King.”

“I’ll take it. Thank you,” Emeriel replied, accepting the parchment.

She carried it directly into Daemonikai’s study, intending to leave it on his desk. But as she leaned to place it down, the parchment slipped from her fingers, unfurling as it struck the floor.

Bending to retrieve it, her eyes caught a few lines of its contents—and paused.

From Herodis?

Heart quickening, she stood and carefully unfolded the letter for a proper read.

You were right, Your Grace. It is never too late to follow a new path, never too late to change our course.

For so long, I have denounced the name Dragaxlov, forgetting that a name itself is neither ugly nor honorable— it is the people who shape its meaning. Only they can stain it, and only they can restore its glory.

Dragaxlov is my birthright, my heritage, and I am ready to claim it. I will walk this new path. I, Gustazlion Herodis Duonavaar Dragaxlov, accept your benevolent offer.

I will pay a proper visit to Ravenshadow Citadel during court this evening. I am ready—eager to learn from you and the other Grand Rulers, to absorb all the teachings and partake in all the trainings. To follow in your footsteps, hoping that in time, I will prove myself worthy of the Grand Crown.

From the hands of Herodis Dragaxlov.

Emeriel sniffled, smiling as she wiped the tears gathering in her eyes. “I love this so much for you, my dear friend.”

Folding the letter with care, she placed it on the desk. She wanted to be there to welcome Herodis when he arrived, so she needed to finish all her evening errands early to make that possible.

“Oh! I need to get Amie. Let’s go shop for the new garden tools while we still have the light.” With that, she hurried from the study, sending word ahead for her Amie to be called.

***

Emeriel emerged from the Royal Residence, dressed in full formal attire—her regal silks draping elegantly, her bodyguards close behind as she made her way toward the slave quarters. The maids she’d sent to Amie had returned empty-handed. Amie wasn’t in her chambers, nor was she present at any of her assigned posts.

Even the woman dispatched to question Madam Livia returned with little information. According to the head maid, she and Amie had parted ways that morning after collecting herbs together.

Concern growing, Emeriel searched through Frostfall herself, her steps quickening with every unanswered question.

“Where could she be?” she muttered, worry creasing her brow as she rounded a corner.

A young slave girl approached hesitantly, her cheeks stained with dried tears, eyes swollen and red.

“Good day, Your Highness. I—”

Emeriel stopped, her expression softening with concern. “What is your name?”

“Beliah, Your Highness.”

“What’s the matter, Beliah?”

“My friend... Amie. She—” the girl sniffled, voice breaking.

“Amie?” Emeriel asked quickly. “You know where she is?”

“She told me not to tell anyone but…”

“Do you have any idea where she might be?” Emeriel’s voice took on an edge. “Tell me everything. Now. ”

Beliah swallowed hard. “After you gave the order placing her under your protection, everyone left her alone. But... there’s a slave master. His name is Kenta. He—he says he likes her. He brings her flowers sometimes, but then he grabs her, touches her roughly, even when she says no. Amie hated it. She finally worked up the courage to reject him two nights ago.”

Beliah wiped her face with both hands, choking back more tears. “A few hours ago, while we were out running errands, he sent two Urekai to come and get her.”

“Why did you keep this to yourself?” Emeriel demanded furiously. “Why tell no one?”

“She begged me not to. I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t know what to do.”

Emeriel turned to her guards. “Who can take me to this slavemaster’s quarters?”

One stepped forward without hesitation and led her through the lower courtyards, down the narrow paths that wound toward the worker domains—the section of Ravenshadow Emeriel preferred to avoid.

The closer they got, the louder the sounds of barking orders and cracking whips. It stirred old memories—unwanted ones. Memories of three years past, when she too had walked these paths in bare feet, carrying buckets, shouted at by these same men.

Some of their faces she recognized. Slavemasters who had once ordered her about now dropped their gazes and bowed low as she passed, storming through with fire in her eyes. No one dared speak.

They reached Kenta’s quarters—a modest structure of stone and old wood. One of her guards moved to knock, but Emeriel didn’t wait. She shoved the door open and stepped inside.

Two Urekai males sat playing cards in the cramped sitting room. At the sound of the door slamming, they leaped to their feet, expressions turning to scowls—until they saw who it was.

“Your Highness!” they chorused, heads lowering in a rushed bow. “Forgive us, what brings you here?”

A muffled sound came from the back room… a door behind them, barely closed.

Anger steaming in her, Emeriel strode past them without a word, flinging the wooden door open.

There, on the floor, was Amie.

She was naked on her knees, hands bound behind her back. Tears streamed from her eyes as the slavemaster forced his manhood down her throat. Choked noises filled the room.

The male jolted backward, yanking himself away in horror as he saw who stood there. “Princess Emeriel...!”

“ My Princess! ” Amie cried, scrambling toward her. She hid behind Emeriel’s back, trying to cover herself with trembling hands.

“Princess, to what do I owe—”

Emeriel slapped him, hard. His head snapped to the side, the sound heard through the walls.

“But Princess—” he began.

She struck him again, backhanded this time, snapping his head in the opposite direction.

A low growl came from the slavemaster’s throat, his eyes flaring yellow as he glared at her.

Emeriel stepped in close, face inches from his. “Do something, I dare you.”

Behind her, the sound of swords being drawn filled the room as her three bodyguards closed in.

The slavemaster blinked, his beast receding, the yellow draining from his eyes.

“No, go on. Summon your beast,” she said angrily. “Oh, mighty predator who likes to prey on powerless girls.” Then she turned to Amie, who stood trembling, tears streaking her face. “Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?” She was not just angry but hurt.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Amie sobbed. “He warned me. Said if I spoke, he’d punish me worse—”

“Seize him,” Emeriel snapped to her guards. “Take him to the dungeons.”

She turned to the slavemaster. “Good luck writing enough petitions to earn the court’s interest. Maybe in a few months, they’ll even read one. Until then, you’ll rot in there.”

The slavemaster’s eyes widened in disbelief as the two Urekai males stood motionless at the door, stunned, but wisely kept their heads down.

“But I’ve done nothing wrong!” Kenta bellowed, guards dragging him toward the door. “I haven’t even mounted her yet!”

That earned him another backhanded blow from one of the soldiers before they marched him out, leaving Emeriel with her remaining guard and Amie.

Emeriel crossed the room, gathering the discarded clothes from the bed. With a softer voice, she handed them to her. “Put these on. Let’s get out of here.”

***

Back at Frostfall, Madam Livia tended to the bruises on Amie’s wrists and cheeks. Thankfully, the slavemaster hadn’t taken things any further. For that, at least, Emeriel was grateful.

Amie wouldn’t stop thanking her. Over and over, she repeated her gratitude like a rhyme on replay, and when it came time to rest, she refused.

“No, I really want to go shopping with you, Princess.” Amie smiled brightly, wincing from the ache in her cheeks. “I’ve been looking forward to it. I don’t want to rest. I’m fine. Truly. Please, don’t make me stay behind.”

Emeriel didn’t know what made her feel worse—how easily Amie had brushed aside what had just happened, or the realization that this wasn’t the worst she’d endured.

In the end, Emeriel relented with a defeated sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The shopping took longer than expected, and the sky had already begun to warm with the golden tones of evening by the time they returned. It wouldn’t be long before Lord Herod arrived—if he wasn’t already within the fortress walls.

“Has the former Lord of Agriculture arrived?” she asked one of the stationed guards.

“Yes, Princess. He passed through not long ago, on his way to the Court of Duty.”

Emeriel quickened her steps, Amie right behind her, hoping she might catch him before he entered the grand chamber. She hurried through the west corridor toward the great hall. As they rounded the final bend, she caught sight of him, cloaked in formal attire, walking toward the court doors.

“Lord Herod!” she called.

He turned at the sound of her voice and smiled, lifting a hand in greeting. “My young friend!”

She smiled in return, took a step forward—then stopped.

The strange colors were back. Only this time… they floated beside him.

A sharp intake of breath sounded behind her. Emeriel turned.

Amie stood rigid, her eyes wide, locked on Lord Herod.

The same impossible swirl of unnamable shades sparkled around her, too—five distinct colors, twisting and merging in the air. The exact same blend surrounded both of them.

Emeriel blinked. She looked between them, then back again. Something heavy and charged was going on here. Lord Herod was staring at Amie, curious and transfixed. And Amie too, couldn’t seem to look away.

Emeriel’s voice was quiet. “Amie… are you alright?”

The girl startled, catching herself, her cheeks flushed. “Y-yes, Princess.”

Lord Herod closed the distance, finally tearing his eyes away from Amie to look at Emeriel. His warm smile returned as he embraced her. “There’s my dear friend. How are you doing today?”

“I’m well,” Emeriel returned the hug before pulling back. “I’m glad to see you in the Citadel. You made the right choice.”

Lord Herod nodded. “Thank you, Princess.” His gaze shifted down to her belly. “And how is the little one faring?”

“Fine…” she said distractedly. Because now, the colors were changing. The two sets had floated closer—interwoven into a single, larger hue. As one.

Compatible.

The thought startled her. Where had that come from?

“Are you alright, young Princess?” Lord Herod asked, brow creased with concern.

“Yes. Don’t mind me,” Emeriel said softly, blinking a few times to clear the haze—yet the colors remained. She kept her smile warm. “I still can’t believe you’re a Dragaxlov . ”

“Yeah… no one does.” He chuckled self-consciously, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry I never told you. It’s just… a part of my life I never thought would see the light of day again.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said. “I understand completely. And more than anything, I’m so glad you chose to step into your legacy. To take on the throne.”

He smiled back at her “I never thought I would. But… your male helped me see a lot more clearly. Now, I’m actually looking forward to this new phase. I want to give it my best shot.”

“I know you will,” Emeriel stated matter-of-factly. “You’re incredibly determined. I have no doubt you’ll pass every test they put in front of you. You’ll finish your training, earn your coronation—and you’ll rule with wisdom.” She reached out and touched his arm. “I have faith in you, my dear friend.”

His eyes took on a soft light. “Thank you, Emeriel. That means more than I can say.”

She smiled, waving him off, motioning toward Amie. “Have you met my servant?”

Lord Herod’s attention returned to Amie.

“Amie.” Emeriel stepped aside to give him a clear view. “You haven’t seen her before, have you?”

“No.” His soft eyes remained locked on the girl. “I would have remembered.”

Amie dipped low into a bow, trying to hide her face, cheeks already a deep scarlet. “My Lord.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Amie.” He stepped forward and offered his hand. “You are a beautiful flower.”

The girl hesitated, staring at his hand. Then, carefully, she placed hers in his. “Thank you for the generous compliment, my Lord.”

Huh.

Emeriel still was not sure she understood all that was happening—but she was beginning to get the idea.

***

Emeriel found her beloved in Blackstone, in Lord Vladya’s study.

She heard the laughter before she reached the door—deep chuckles and the easy camaraderie of longtime friends. She entered as Daemonikai was rising to meet her, already on his feet as though he scented her. He crossed the room in long strides, pulling her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly.

His public displays of affection never failed to leave her flustered. It was something she was still getting used to. Yet, deep inside, she loved it. Loved how unapologetically he claimed her, how naturally he made her feel wanted. How he never hesitated to put his hands on her, even in the presence of others.

The way his lips devoured hers now, one might have thought they’d been apart for weeks.

“Hell,” Lord Vladya groaned. “Give the girl a breath, Daemon.”

Emeriel broke the kiss with a gasp, heat rising to her face. Her Daemon took his time letting go, his hands lasting on her waist before finally stepping back. She was feeling warm, her belly fluttering.

“You came to see Aekeira?” Daemonikai asked, still watching her with that smoldering intensity. “I believe she’s sleeping.”

“No.” She caught her breath. “I’m actually here to see you. I need to tell you something.”

She recounted everything—what she saw with the colors, how they had reacted when Lord Herod and Amie were near each other. How they merged.

There was a pause.

“A bond seer…?” Lord Vladya spoke as he walked forward, looking stunned and bewildered.

“You’ve just said exactly what crossed my mind,” Daemonikai said, glancing at the Grand Lord.

“Are you certain about everything you described?” Lord Vladya asked. “It happened exactly that way?”

“Yes.” Emeriel nodded, worry settling in her stomach. “Is it… is that bad? What does bond seer mean?”

“The Oracle did say you were born with a dormant power.” Daemonikai shook his head slowly, something dawning in his eyes. “You’re a bond seer, Emeriel.”

“I’m not sure,” she said, bewildered. “I only started seeing colors—”

Her beloved pulled her into his arms with such urgency she nearly gasped.

“Oh, the heavens…” he breathed, holding her close.

Still confused, Emeriel wrapped her arms around him on instinct. When he pulled back, his face had softened, his voice awed.

“A bond seer is a blessing among our kind. Rare. Incredibly rare,” he said. “For a species bound by a rigid mating system like the bonding ritual, bond seers are the ones who guide fate. Why do you think there are as many successful bonds as there are, despite how rare they are meant to be?”

She shook her head slowly.

“It’s because of seers like you,” he said. “You were born with supernatural sight. The ability to perceive the compatibility between souls. You see it through color. The more overlapping hues a pair shares, the higher the chance their bond will hold. That their ritual will succeed.”

Emeriel opened her mouth, but no words came. She wanted to refute him, to question how something so significant—so valuable —could happen to her .

But the more she thought about it, the more it all made sense.

Every color she had ever seen hovering near people was always different. Unique. Separate. Except with Amie and Lord Herod.

“If what you’re saying is true… does that mean Lord Herod and Amie are—” She hesitated. “That they are compatible? But Amie is human.”

“For the swirling colors to intertwine so completely,” Lord Vladya answered, “she must have Syren traits. Ones that haven’t manifested yet but will in time.” He paused, thoughtful. “Only Soulbonds go into heat at first contact with their destined mate, not bondmates. And you said all the colors merged— not some , but every hue—intertwined into one?”

Emeriel nodded slowly.

“That is full compatibility,” Vladya said with certainty. “When she becomes Syren and they attempt the bonding ritual, it will succeed.”

Emeriel tried to absorb it all. “But if this kind of ability exists, how come…” She didn’t know how to say it delicately.

“You’re asking why bond seers haven’t been used to guide mating, to help Urekai avoid failed bonds and prevent heartbreak?” Lord Vladya finished.

Emeriel gave a small nod.

“You may have already noticed—bond colors don’t appear for everyone,” Daemonikai explained. “That alone makes it impossible to force it. You can’t ask a bond seer to match you with someone if your colors don’t appear at all.”

That was true.

“I was one of those people the colors never appeared for,” Vladya said with a shrug. “Ottai’s grandmother—our last known bond seer—was revered across Urai. I hoped, prayed, that one day she’d see colors for me. But she never did, until the day she died.” His smile had a tinge of sadness. “Some people are just unlucky. Or as I used to think… cursed.”

Emeriel understood, reeling.

Beside her, Daemonikai looked at her like she was some kind of miracle. A rare, sacred wonder. She didn’t understand how this could be her.

“But… why me ?” she wondered aloud. “I’m just… Emeriel.”

“You’ve never been just anything,” Vladya snorted. “You were handmade for the Grand King of the Urekai. Touched by the gods while still in the womb. You’ve never been ordinary.”

Emeriel’s throat tightened.

“Do you know what this means?” Daemonikai ran a hand through his hair, clearly overwhelmed. “Our people will rejoice. There’s hope again for those who are scared of the bonding ritual because of the risk of failure. You’re the key to guiding them.”

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Vladya said, shaking his head, looking at her with new eyes.

The more she processed it, the more a slow, powerful wave of joy began to rise in her chest.

Relief.

Her vision wasn’t failing, it wasn’t some strange pregnancy symptom. It was something good. Something amazing .

The idea that she could help people find their true companions through bonding in the future was humbling. Knowing that no one would have to endure the suffering Lord Vladya experienced, nor become what he once was, shaped by loss and bitterness... filled her with a joy beyond words.