Page 43 of THE SOULBOND AND HER BELOVED (Beasts Of Wrath And Madness #4)

Chapter forty-three

THE REBIRTH OF THE ECLIPSE MOON

As the soldiers dragged Zaiper away, Daemonikai turned toward the werewolf king and extended his hand. “Thank you, Azrael.”

The werewolf king clasped it with a firm nod. “Anything for a friend. When I fought those bloodsuckers and you came to my aid, it changed everything. We may be even now—but call on me again, and I will come.”

“You too, my friend. The lands of Urekai are always open to you.”

“As is werewolf soil,” Azrael replied.

Daemonikai watched him walk away into the shadows, armor gleaming under the strange light of the eclipse moon.

His mind pulled back to a few weeks ago—he’d been working in the study with Emeriel when the letter came. He had initially asked for it to be discarded.

“She sent three birds, Beloved,” Emeriel had said softly. “That’s no ordinary message. Let’s at least see the context before we burn it.”

So he had opened it. And in reading it, learned everything. The extent of Zaiper’s past sins. The terrifying intricacy of his current plans. It had been enraging . But it had also given him an edge.

All thanks to his radiant star, who had urged him to call in his favor with the werewolves, even when he had resisted with stubborn defiance. Calm and rational, she had made him see the wisdom in it, drawing his eyes to the hope, to the brighter possibilities of their aid on a night like this. And now, he was glad he had listened. Glad he had made the call.

“Hey, Ancient One,” Vladya’s voice came behind him.

Daemonikai turned. His brow arched at the state of him. “You do remember you weren’t supposed to fight tonight?”

Vladya snorted, blood spattered across his tunic, grin wide. “Says the male who just spent the night hunting. ”

Daemonikai exhaled a faint chuckle.

“I saw our newest prisoner,” Vladya said. “I must say, this night is turning out to be very pretty.”

“It is,” Daemonikai agreed, folding his hands behind his back as they walked side by side. “How are things with the bloodsuckers?”

“They never reached the inner halls. Our people are safe. Well…” he glanced skyward. “Mostly thanks to the werewolves. They tore through the vamps before half of them knew what hit them. The rest ran.”

Daemonikai gave him a side-eye. “You’re awfully chirpy tonight for a Urekai going through the eclipse moon.”

Vladya laughed. “Good things are happening, my friend. My third ritual passed yesterday. Tonight, we captured Zaiper. I beat the fangs out of a few bloodsuckers. What more can a male ask for?”

Hurried footsteps reached Daemonikai before the figure came into view—a young girl sprinting toward them.

The familiar slave girl bowed, eyes wide. “Your Highness… Your Majesties,” she said breathlessly.

Daemonikai stilled as Vladya tensed.

“My name is Amie,” she continued quickly, “and I’ve been sent with a message from the healers.”

“Speak,” Vladya ordered.

“The princesses are in labor,” Amie burst out. “Princess Emeriel was the first to break her water, but she said not to worry you, Your Grace, that you had more important things to handle and she’d be fine— but Princess Aekeira started panicking, and now her water has broken too, and she’s crying for Lord Vladya, so—so the healers finally agreed you should both be informed!” She gasped, panting. “They’re both delivering. Right now.”

Tension rippled down Daemonikai’s back. The moment the words delivering sank in, he and Vladya locked eyes, then bolted into a full-blown run.

***

Daemonikai prowled one corner of the hallway while Vladya paced the other. From behind the heavy doors came the raw, wrenching sounds of labor—the cries, the screams, the urging voices of the healers. Each one sliced through Daemonikai’s composure like knives.

He caught Vladya’s eye across the room. No words needed. They were both hanging on a thread.

The entire fortress of Ravenshadow held its breath. Whispers ran like wind through the stone halls—Both princesses in labor, on the eclipse moon night.

What were the odds? The night that had stolen everything from Daemonikai—his family, his sanity, his soul—would now be the night that gave it all back?

Another scream ripped through the air. “Vladya!”

His friend snarled, already lunging toward the door, fist raised to shatter it for the fifth time.

Daemonikai caught him yet again. “You can’t.”

Vladya’s voice was hoarse, his beast so close to the surface his eyes flickered gold. “They’re in pain, Daemon. Serious pain. I can feel her through the bond, even with her shields.”

“They are,” Daemonikai said softly. “But this… this is their battle, Vladya. The only thing we can do is be here when they come out of it—”

Emeriel screamed and something in him broke.

He swallowed hard and pressed on, voice trembling. “—to hold them. To tell them we’re proud.”

“Princess Emeriel, push!” came the urgent voice of a midwife.

“I can’t…” Emeriel’s voice cracked.

“You must. You’re almost there!”

“I’m so tired…”

“You’re the one who’s growling now,” Vladya said. “So tell me, are we going in or not?”

Daemonikai grabbed the handle, Vladya joined him, and together, they shoved open the doors—ripping them off their hinges, handles clattering to the floor.

A healer rushed toward them. “Your Majesties, you cannot—!”

But they were already inside.

The bedchambers were lit low, awash in firelight. Emeriel and Aekeira lay side by side, legs braced, faces flushed with effort and pain. Sweat ran down their brows. Tears pooled in their lashes. And when their gazes found their males, both women’s expressions cracked open with relief.

Daemonikai moved to Emeriel’s side, dropping to his knees. He caught her outstretched hand in both of his.

“Daemon…” she whispered, her voice shaky and wet.

“Yes, my dearling.” He kissed her fingers, then her temple, brushing the damp hair from her face. “I’m here.”

“It hurts,” she cried.

“I know,” he murmured. “My brightest star, I know.”

“I’m so tired.”

“I know, my Beloved.” He kissed her again. “But you are doing beautifully.”

Aekeira’s voice came beside them, breathless and teary—“They didn’t tell me it would hurt this much—”

“I’m sorry, my dearest,” Vladya whispered, kissing her forehead, then her nose.

Daemonikai looked into Emeriel’s eyes. “Riel,” he said softly, “I wish I could bear the pain for you.”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispered with a faint, exhausted smile.

He smiled back, aching with love. “Of course you don’t. But we must not keep our little one waiting. He’s eager to meet his strong, beautiful mother.”

“And his legendary father,” Emeriel added, breath heaving.

He nodded. “And his legendary father.”

“Hold my hand through it,” Aekeira begged.

“Always,” Vladya vowed.

“It's coming, get ready!” Emeriel’s midwife warned—just as Aekeira’s midwife shouted, “Push!”

Vladya gripped Aekeira’s hand, whispering steady encouragements. Daemonikai held Emeriel’s tighter as she bore down, the effort wracking her body, her cries guttural.

“Good, Princess—again!”

And they did.

Over and over.

Two males—warriors, rulers, predators—turned helpless spectators as the fiercest fight they’d ever witnessed was waged right before them. A battle of life and death. Of blood and breath.

Then… a cry. A piercing, primal cry.

Daemonikai’s head snapped up as the midwife smiled, raising a small blood-slicked bundle. “You have a beautiful boy, Your Grace.”

My child.

Joy exploded in Daemonikai’s chest. He was smiling so wide it hurt, adrenaline still coursing, euphoria drowning every coherent thought.

“Here.” The midwife rose, her own eyes shimmering with tears, and gently placed the child in his arms. She was smiling as if she’d just witnessed a miracle—because she had.

Daemonikai’s hands trembled as he gathered his son close. Emeriel looked too exhausted to speak, but her eyes never left the small life they’d just created. Their boy.

“You did it. You did it, my brightest star. He’s here.”

Then another cry pierced the chamber.

Aekeira’s midwife beamed, holding up a tiny, wailing newborn. “Your Majesty, you have a son!”

Vladya’s jaw went slack for a heartbeat before splitting into a wild grin. His hands shook as he reached for the child. He and Aekeira stared down at the baby as though they were seeing the stars for the first time.

He kissed her damp forehead. “Thank you… for this gift.”

Daemonikai met Vladya’s. Both of them smiling, both blinking hard, emotion passing between them in a look that needed no words.

Emeriel looked at her sister. “We did it Keira.”

“We did,” Aekeira breathed. “We really did.”

But a moment later, Emeriel shifted uneasily. “Daemon… something feels wrong—”

“There’s another!” her midwife gasped. “It’s coming—Princess, push!”

Daemonikai’s mouth dropped open. Another one?

Twins?

Stunned, euphoric, he could barely breathe as he held his son watching his mate bear down again. And then—

Another newborn cry echoed through the air.

“A girl! Your Grace, you have a beautiful baby girl.”

***

In the quiet aftermath, with their mates fast asleep, Daemonikai and Vladya sat beside each other in chairs that had been brought in, each of them cradling a child.

Daemonikai rocked his daughter in his arms while his newborn son slept soundly in the crib beside him. Outside the walls, the celebration had begun—bonfires lit across the city, laughter echoing as the people rejoiced. For the first time on an eclipse moon night, there was no fear. Only joy.

The werewolves remained stationed at the borders, keeping the lands safe. The vampires were scattered or dead. Urekai had endured.

Ottai had visited earlier, holding the babies with reverence before returning to his duties. Morina was unwell tonight, and he was alternating between caring for her and seeing to the night’s cleanup.

“Look at them, Daemonikai,” Vladya murmured, gazing down at his son with eyes that could barely contain the emotion. “Look at our offspring.”

“So small,” Daemonikai said quietly. “So incredible.”

“I’m going to spoil him rotten,” Vladya declared.

A mix between a laugh and a scoff tore from Daemonikai’s throat. “You will not. That’s your heir. You do not spoil heirs.”

Vladya grinned sideways. “But the second one?”

Daemonikai chuckled. “All bets are off.”

“Like you did with Myka and Alvin?” Vladya said absently—then stiffened. The words registered. He stilled. “I… Daemonikai, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright,” Daemonikai said softly, the smile never leaving his face. “They’re not forbidden memories, Vladya. Myka, Alvin, Evie—they were my family. They are gone, yes. But I carry them in my heart every day. I will always remember them. That’s what she” —he looked toward Emeriel— “helped me understand. And I’ll forever be grateful.”

Vladya nodded slowly. “You’re truly in a better place now.”

“I am. And you are too.”

“I feel like my chest can’t contain it all. My heart’s so full it might just burst.”

Daemonikai glanced at him, thoughtful. “Then perhaps… it’s time. Go back to the mountains. Ask the Oracle to attempt the final ritual again. This might be the best time for it.”

“I’ll do just that,” Vladya said. “First thing in the morning. I’m ready now.”

Daemonikai winced, something sharp twisting in his chest, so sudden and deep it felt like an invisible fist had plunged into his ribs and yanked.

He hissed, doubling slightly.

Vladya jolted. “Daemonikai? What is it? What just happened?”

“My blood bond.” Daemonikai rubbed his chest through the prolonged discomfort. “It broke.”

Vladya lowered his gaze to the infant cradled in his arms. “She’s dead, then.” A pause. “I wonder what happened.”

Sinai is gone.

As the ache faded, replaced by an unfamiliar emptiness where the bond once pulsed steadily within him, Daemonikai absorbed the truth.

Too bad. I wanted to do it myself.

Rip the blackened heart from her chest and feed it back to her.

At least, that had been… until she betrayed Zaiper and sent the message that ultimately helped bring about his downfall.

But as he rubbed at his chest, he felt a strange sense of fulfillment. Satisfaction, even. Justice. And yet… an unexpected gloom.

He had shared a blood bond with Sinai for over two thousand years. Drunk from her. Been nourished by her. As much as bitterness and betrayal had torn them apart, they had once been close as a master and bloodhost. And now… she was simply gone. Her chapter closed forever.

“Don’t let the bond fool you into false sentiment,” Vladya said, his tone firm. “She had a hand in some of the most despicable crimes of our time. She got what she deserved.”

“You’re right,” Daemonikai stated.

The door swung open.

Ottai rushed in with such urgency both males rose instinctively.

“Is everything—” Daemonikai began.

Ottai barreled straight into him, throwing his arms around him tightly. He kept his back hunched, careful not to press against the child in Daemonikai’s arms.

“Careful, you oaf!” Vladya snapped, quickly taking the infant from Daemonikai’s arms with all the gentleness of a father.

Daemonikai stood stiff for a moment, unsure what to do with his hands, before placing one on the larger male’s back and the other on his shoulder.

“Ottai?”

He felt the tears soak through his robes in the answering silence.

Daemonikai tried to contain his worry. “Is Morina okay?”

“I had your healers see her on their way out,” Ottai said thickly, pulling back just enough to look at his face. “She’s pregnant.”

A beat of stunned silence.

“Really!? Ukrae —Ottai, truly!?” Daemonikai exclaimed, voice hushed only by necessity.

Vladya’s eyes widened like twin moons.

“Two and a half years of bonding. Losing our only fruit. Trying again for centuries. Giving up. Accepting it would just be us until the end.” His voice fractured. “And now… now, my Rina is with child.”

Daemonikai pulled the distraught male into a proper embrace, clasping his shoulders, before stepping back and grinning wide.

“A hearty congratulations, Tee. This is incredible news!”

Vladya beamed, too, as he returned the child to the crib, then clapped Ottai’s back. “You’re going to be a father again. It’s about damn time.”

The fourth ruler’s smile split his face as tears shimmered in his eyes. “Thank you.”

For a while, they laughed softly. Clasping hands. Slapping backs. Embracing.

Relief that it wasn’t bad news.

Rejoicing that it was finally happening for Ottai.

Overwhelming elation.

Truly, this night—the night that once took everything from them—had returned bearing miracles.

The eclipse moon of nightmares and loss had become a beacon of rebirth.

A night of good news, of happiness, of blessings.