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

Chapter four

MY GRAND KING.

Emeriel stood before the tall mirror, staring at her reflection as Amie fastened the buttons down the back of her gown.

The fabric was soft against her skin, designed in a simple yet elegant style that prioritized comfort over extravagance.

Behind her, the faint clinking of glass jars echoed as Madam Livia brewed her final potion of the morning.

Four days had passed since she fully woke up and most of Emeriel’s bruises had faded. Her face looked less pale, and the dark shadows under her eyes were fading too.

Though her left arm still ached from time to time, the swelling had gone down, and she could now use it without much trouble. She flexed her fingers absently, with caution.

“You look so beautiful, my princess.” Amie let out a wistful sigh, stepping back to admire her work.

“Thank you, Amie.” Beautiful wasn’t the word she’d use, but at least she looked better than she had in recent weeks. That was enough for now.

“Here.” Madam Livia came to her with a steaming wooden cup. “Drink this while it’s still hot, Princess.”

Emeriel took the cup, its bitter scent wafting up as she brought it to her lips. She drank it quickly, grimacing as the sharp taste hit her tongue and burned her throat.

“Sorry about the taste,” the older woman said with a grimace of her own. “But it’s for your own good. You have made remarkable progress, and I’m glad to see you doing better.”

Emeriel managed a small smile. “Thanks, Madam Livia.”

“It’s just Livia now,” the headmaid reminded her for what felt like the hundredth time.

“That will take some getting used to, so until I do, you’re still Madam Livia.”

The older woman sighed, shaking her head with faint exasperation.

“Amie, you may leave us now,” Livia instructed, and the young girl bowed before slipping out of the chamber, the door closing softly behind her.

Emeriel adjusted the hem of her gown, smoothing it over her hips.

Through the mirror, she noticed Livia shifting uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with her apron.

“Is anything the matter?” Emeriel met her gaze through the mirror.

Livia wavered. “It’s just… I know what he did was brutal and unforgivable. But I hope you will keep an open heart. He is not that kind of male. Lord Zaiper is more likely to—”

“Madam Livia—”

“—and I know,” Livia pressed on in a rush. “I know he hasn’t come to see you again after that first day, but he—”

“We will be alright,” Emeriel cut in firmly, turning fully to face the head maid. “There’s no need to worry. He is my destined mate. Dormant bond or not, severed or not, I’m not letting him go.”

Relief spread across the head maid's face, and her shoulders slumped. “He will likely push you away,” she mumbled in defeat. “He won’t even see Lord Vladya.”

“He can try.”

The head maid regarded her for a long moment. At last, she nodded.

“Very well, Princess. I will leave you to finish getting ready.” Livia inclined her head before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

Left alone, Emeriel turned back to the mirror. She adjusted the sleeve of her gown, smoothing the fabric over her shoulder.

It’s alright, my Beloved. I will come to you.

***

Emeriel approached the corner leading to the Royal Residence. She moved slower than usual, her body still weak from recovery, but she carried herself with grace, refusing to let her exhaustion show.

“You may go back, whoever you are,” Wegai’s firm voice came from around the corner. “The Grand King is not receiving visitors at the—”

Emeriel turned the corner, and Wegai stopped instantly.

His sharp gaze softened as he quickly straightened, bowing low. “Princess.”

“Is His Majesty inside?”

The head soldier faltered, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

The pause told her everything she needed to know. Without waiting for his answer, Emeriel stepped past him.

Entering through the grand entrance, the familiar corridors felt eerily still. The servants paused in their work to greet her hastily, their eyes lingering on her curiously before they hurried on.

At the door of his bedchamber, Emeriel raised her hand to knock. Pausing, she decided against it and reached for the handle.

She half-expected it to be locked, but to her surprise, the handle turned easily.

The chamber was dark.

Stepping inside, Emeriel stopped just past the threshold, her gaze adjusting to the dim light. All the curtains were drawn tightly, blocking out the sun.

The scent of stale ale and unventilated space assaulted her nose. Scanning the room, she searched for him.

His once-immaculate bedchamber was a mess. Clothes were strewn carelessly across the furniture, empty bottles of ale littering the floor.

But... he doesn’t drink. Emeriel’s heart lurched; ale upset his stomach and made his beast restless.

Then, she heard a faint groan.

Following the sound, she walked around to the other side of the bed…

Grand King Daemonikai lay sprawled on the floor, his large frame partially hidden by the shadow of the bed. Head rested against the side of the mattress, eyes closed.

“Your Grace?” she called, tentatively.

Nothing.

Emeriel bent down, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Your Highness...?”

His eyes snapped open, the sudden movement startling her.

Gaze unfocused, darting around the room as if trying to piece together where he was. Then his nostrils flared... and then his eyes locked onto her.

They watched each other without any reaction from him. Then, without warning, images of him, unhinged and merciless, tore through her mind.

The memories of that night.

Emeriel squeezed her eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt, trying to banish them with sheer will, fighting to steady her breathing.

Then, he sighed. “It’s nice to know you can still visit my dreams.”

Pulling herself out of there , she cleared her throat. “It’s not a dream..."

Daemonikai blinked.

For someone surrounded by gallons of ale, he didn’t look drunk, but he also didn’t look entirely present.

“You know, I think I prefer this dream," he said. "It’s better, compared to…”

“Please, get up.” She tried to pull him upright, but it was like trying to lift a slab of solid rock.

“I need you to help me here,” she said in a strained voice, bracing herself as she slid both hands under his arms to support him.

Another heavy sigh. But, he moved, pushing himself off the floor. As he stood to his full height, he leaned heavily against her, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“For someone who’s only a dream,” he murmured in a muffled voice against her skin. “You smell incredible.”

Then, he pulled back, the haze in his eyes clearing. “Emeriel? What are you doing here? You should be in bed.”

“I’m fine right where I am.” Her eyes swept the room again, taking in the disorder. “What are you doing, Daemon? This isn’t you.”

He looked away. “Well, it seems I do not know myself anymore.”

“Come, let’s get out of here. We can wait in the study while the servants clean up.”

Battle warred in his face as he looked at her with pain and hesitation as though he couldn’t decide whether to accept the hand she was offering or retreat further into the darkness.

“Emeriel…”

“Please,” she urged, taking his hand in hers. “Do it for me.”

After a long, tense pause, he let her guide him toward the door. But just as they reached it, he stopped.

“Why don’t you wait in my study?” he said, his tone quieter now. More careful. “I could… also use a bath.”

Emeriel wanted to argue.

Every instinct screamed at her not to let him out of her sight, not in the state he was in. But the pleading look in his eyes gave her pause.

He was asking for space, asking for some measure of control over himself.

“Okay.” She released his hand. “But I’ll be waiting for you.”

***

Busying herself with a historical book on his shelf, Emeriel waited in the dim study, the soft light from the fireplace flickering across the room.

The creak of the door snapped her head up and Daemonikai stepped into the study, closing the door quietly behind him.

He looked like himself again.

Gone were the filthy, wrinkled nightrobes, replaced with one of his heavy black garments embroidered with white designs along the hem and cuffs. His long hair was neatly combed and tied back at his nape, cascading like silk down his back. He stood straight and composed.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting.” His deep voice was soft as he walked toward her.

“I didn’t notice.” Emeriel held up the book briefly before setting it down. Letting her worry show as she studied him. “How do you feel? You did have a lot to drink.”

“You are worried about me?” He stopped just in front of her, those emerald eyes locking onto hers. “I should be asking you that question, not the other way around.”

His gaze dropped, voice carrying shame. "There are no words to describe how I feel for what I did. None that could articulate how deeply sorry I am.”

Emeriel didn’t wait for him to say more, closing the remaining distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He stiffened instantly. Taut like a bowstring drawn too tightly.

“Please hold me,” she whispered.

For the longest moment, he didn’t react.

Then, at last, his arms wrapped around her.

Slowly at first, then tightly. Desperately . Drawing her closer, clutching her in a way that made her gasp. Clinging to her like a drowning man who finally found something solid to hold on to.

“I am so sorry from the depths of my heart ,” he breathed, burying his face into the curve of her neck. “I know those words are inadequate. A feeble attempt to make up for—”

“Give yourself a break,” she interrupted in a small voice as she nuzzled against his neck, ravenously breathing in his familiar scent. “Do me one favor. Stop hating yourself. Stop the guilt, the anger. We have been through far worse. We’ll get through this… together.”

“No, there is nothing worse than this. There is..." a shaky breath. "I have prepared a special carriage and entourage to see you home safely."

Emeriel bit her lips.

"For so long, I wanted to hold onto you," Daemonikai said, lowly. "You were the one bright star in a sky so dark it swallowed everything else. I wanted to keep you for myself. But my mind is unstable again, Emeriel. What I did to you… I cannot bear the thought of it happening again.”

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, cupping his face. Her palms were warm against his cool skin as she tilted his head so he couldn’t look away.

“I am going to say this once. Just once. And I want you to listen to me, Daemon. Truly listen.”

His conflicted eyes searched hers.

“First of all, I knew exactly what I was getting into when I fell in love with you," she stated firmly. "For the Light-gods’ sake, I loved your mad beast first. Do you hear me?” She searched his eyes.

“Your mindless, raging, mad beast—was my first love. Do you know what that means?” She let the words settle. “It means I never expected this to be all bed and roses. Our love has thorns, and that’s okay. I love you, Grand King Daemonikai, and we will fight this—whatever it is.”

Her eyes bore into his, letting him see all the fight and determination in her tattered soul. “So, that carriage you have prepared? Use it to ship your guilt, sadness, and anger to the human lands, because I am not going anywhere. I will be right here… By. Your. Side.”

“You do not understand, Emeriel.” Her male shook his head in sheer misery. “This is not a one-time occurrence. It will not just pass.”

She stopped breathing. “ What ?”

A heavy sigh of defeat met her. “A few days ago, I began to feel strange again. I had Wegai bring me the strongest chains we have to restrain me in my chambers. When I regained awareness… I was in my beast form again.”

The thought of him losing himself that way again was completely terrifying. For one tiny moment, a small, uncertain voice—the voice of the girl whose body was put through the unimaginable—whispered... Run .

Take his offer and run far away.

"I see the fear in your eyes," his agonized voice was rough. "Oh, Emeriel… where do we go from here, when I’ve put you right back in a place where you have to fear me again?"

Her throat worked tightly. Do not waver. Do not falter.

"We will get through this," she said firmly. Spoken as much for herself as for him. "I am not running like a coward."

"Running does not make you a coward. It makes you a survivor." With self-loathing, he added, "Run, Emeriel. Run far away, beyond where these cursed hands can ever touch you again. If I have to resort to binding myself in chains laced with dragonblood and scented leaves from the Forest of Abadin, then you’ll know things have truly spiraled beyond my control."

Emeriel took his hands in hers, bringing them to her lips, pressing a kiss to every finger. "Why would you use chains laced with the deadliest toxins to restrain yourself?"

“You’re missing the point.” He looked, exasperated. “I may truly be going feral again—or perhaps I never fully healed from it in the first place. There will be episodes of mindlessness in my future. Times when I won’t be aware of what I’m doing. Driven only to satisfy the base instincts of my kind, even if it means hurting the ones dearest to me. Not recognizing friend from foe .”

“You said you started to feel strange?” Emeriel’s mind was working. “That means you can recognize the signs. That’s good. It means it won’t always be like last time.”

“Emeriel—”

She stepped closer again. “How about this? The next time you feel it coming on, you tell me. Or you tell Lord Vladya, Ottai, Wegai—anyone who cares about you. We’ll find a way to help you, Daemon.”

Her Beloved was clearly frustrated. “Do you not understand what I’m saying?”

“I do, my king,” she replied calmly, folding her arms. “I’m simply choosing not to listen to your perspective.”

“Emeriel… I have the power and strength to protect you from everything. But who will protect you from me ?” He turned away, squaring his shoulder. "Take the carriage and leave. I beg of you ."

The look on King Daemonikai’s face as he turned away from her… the pain, the great raw pain, made Emeriel’s bravado falter.

I may truly lose him.

“I’m not going back, and I'm not letting go.” she stated firmly.

"Listen to me—"

"You waste your time if you really think I will." Emeriel moved to his front, letting her misery show, her voice small. “Instead of thinking it to death, why not hold me?”

His eyes squeezed close, as though he were mentally restraining himself.

"Hold me, please?" Emeriel sounded needy even to her own ears, but she didn’t care.

After over a week without him, after the horrors, all she wanted was to feel his arms around her again. “Please?”

“Hell’s balls.” King Daemonikai lifted her off her feet with one arm around her knees and the other on her back. Holding her so close as if she were a lifeline he needed.

A needy moan slipped from her as she melted into him. Yes, yes .

He carried her across the study, lowering them onto the plush cushions, keeping her cradled in his lap. His hands were trembling. “You never need to ask. It’s just…”

“I waited for you to come, but you didn’t.” Emeriel’s voice shook.

“How could I, after what I did to you?" He groaned. "I wanted to bury myself in my chambers and never step to the light again. I have so many regrets..."

His heart beat unsteadily against her palm.

"I should have ended the hunger strike long ago." Daemonikai continued, his voice cracking. "If I had fed from my bloodhost… I wouldn’t have almost drained you.”

She pulled back slightly to look up at him. “Don’t do that. Please, I beg of you.”

“If you decide to leave, I want you to know that I will always protect you as long as I live. I will ensure your safety from harm, make sure the human king keeps you safe. You will have the freedom to live your life as you choose, without the fear of being preyed upon. I swear to you.”

“While that is reassuring to hear, it is unnecessary. I’m not leaving.

Daemonikai’s eyes searched hers, a storm of guilt and disbelief swirling in them. “How are you still here, Emeriel? How are you real?”

Emeriel kissed his smooth cheek. "I am exactly where I wish to be."

"How could you wish to be in this hell, with this devil?"

Her eyes bored into his. "Hell may be here, but this devil is my angel."

His strong body shuddered, as his eyes drifted to her lips.

Staring at his smooth cheeks, a question came to mind. “Now that I think about it, I hardly ever see Urekai with big beards."

Daemonikai stopped. His mouth opened… closed… opened again.

"You know those wild, unruly forests, thick enough to lose a dagger in."

“How could you think about that at a time like this?” he asked incredulously.

“Sorry,” she said with a slight smile. “My mind tends to wander when the topic no longer interests me.”

He inhaled deeply. “You really aren’t going to get into that carriage, are you?"

She grinned. “I wonder what gave me away."

King Daemonikai swore. “You are a very stubborn and unusual female, you know that?”

Even with the exasperation, she heard it… hope. A frail hope.

He was terrified she would leave.

Oh, Daemon. You truly don’t understand the depth of what I feel for you, do you?

Every moment apart from you creates a hole in my heart, stuffed full with chilly pepper. I can’t breathe, I can’t function. How do you expect me to leave?

His throat worked tightly. “You are truly going to stay?”

“Yes, my grand king.” She brushed her fingers along the line of his jaw. “Yes, I will stay.”

“Thank you, Emeriel.” He buried his face against her throat, inhaling deeply. “I am deeply sorry. I will spend the rest of my existence making it up to you.”

Emeriel closed her eyes, biting back a soft sound, her body relaxing into him.

For the first time in days, she felt at peace.

Home, again.