Page 154 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

Eventually, they would submit. They had no choice; he would be their undisputed ruler, his word their unbreakable law.

Rounding a corner, the rhythmic clash of the training grounds abruptly ceased.

They were his finest warriors—his trusted hidden soldiers—specially trained for countless centuries. They stood at attention, their stances as rigid as the ancient stone of the fortress itself.

Their commander, Razarr, broke formation and stepped forward.

Zaiper gestured, leading him away from the others. When they were well beyond earshot, he turned. "Mobilize a select few of them. Tonight, we hunt to kill."

"Your command, Majesty. The target?" Razarr's voice was steady.

"The boy, Emeriel." Zaiper said. That wretched boy must die. The beast's rampage last night... the way it protected the boy... fueled him withunease. Something was just not right.

The beast had torn the slavemaster to pieces for molesting the boy? For his scent lingering on the boy's body? Zaiper had tortured the information out of one of the southern wing’s slaves.

"Forgive me for prying, but won't the beast be killed tomorrow? Is there still a need to eliminate the boy?" Razarr asked cautiously.

Zaiper's eyes narrowed. "My instincts are rarely wrong, Razarr. There's something going on with the feral, something inexplicable, and it’s all connected to that boy. It makes me uneasy. Before whatever that is goes any further, that boy needsto die." He took a step closer, his voice dropping low. "I need him gone."

"Very well, Your Highness. I will assemble a squad for tonight." Razarr inclined his head.

Zaiper nodded, and smirked. "Choose our finest, commander. The best of the elite."

Confusion flickered on Razarr's features. "For a mere human boy?"

"Not exactly. The slaves convene at the square outside Ravenshadow, this evening. Strike after, when he makes for home. The forest offers perfect cover. If all goes according to plan, he should not be difficult to eliminate. However, have the elite soldiers on standby in case complications arise…as they did last time."

"You mean Lord Vladya? Even if we combine the prowess of all our men, they would still be no match for him," Razarr stated bluntly.

"I am aware. That is why the arrows will be coated with dragonblood." Zaiper smirked. "It may not kill that stubborn beast outright, but it will weaken him significantly. If he is struck by more than a few, it will surely be fatal. Hence, I require the elites for this task. I am not willing to take any chances. One of those arrows aimed at the boy will undoubtedly end his life."

The evening painted the sky in streaks of molten gold and fiery rose as the sun slipped behind the gnarled trees.

Lost in thought, Emeriel trudged along the familiar path back to the fortress, his footsteps soft on the packed earth.

That bloodfeeding... it had seared itself into his very being. Now he understood the mistress's reaction to it. Her desperate, insatiable thirst.

Emeriel doubted he could survive a real feeding – those tiny, little sips from the beast had been so overwhelming it created a wildfire of sensation inside him.

Even now, he could scarcely believe he had fed King Daemonikai, although the beast had taken barely a sip.

But that hunger... Emeriel had practically felt its strength when the beast's body began to shake, yet it restrained itself.

As if being careful not to drain him.

A sharp sting snapped him back to the present. His foot had caught on a root, sending his body stumbling forward with a surprised cry.

Damn!

His muscles screamed in protest, still tender from the previous night. Emeriel pressed on, each step sending a fresh jolt of pain through Emeriel's sore body.

He longed to sink back into the comfort of his bed, but such luxury was not an option for a slave like him.

"There he is," a voice echoed up ahead.

Emeriel stopped in his tracks. Two Urekai came out of nowhere, clad in the outfit of assassins.

Hoods masked their faces, arrows nocked and aimed. His heart pounded like a drumroll before battle.

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