Page 152 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

Oh gods...!Emeriel's eyelids squeezed shut, every muscle in her face clenched in a fierce battle against her instincts.

She felt cradled in the beast's arms. Protected.

The beast adjusted its thrust, driving deeper, and Emeriel sobbed through the pain. Would a day come when he would take her in male form? Would the day come were being in its arms would be purely pleasurable?

Mere pipe dreams, all of them. The beast would be killed soon. Any day now.

Tears filled her eyes. "It's okay. Don't stop."

This time, the beast didn't go searching for her cervix, much to her relief. Something in her encouragement seemed to soothehis agitation. As if it, too, could sense her surrender, her genuine eagerness to please. Something shifted – the tense lines of its body softened.

And when her second orgasm hit, a primal wail ripped from her throat. Her body, already a trembling wreck, finally gave out. Arms limp, she crumpled forward.

Let him drink! Feed him!A voice screamed inside her.

But you could die, Emeriel.Another voice cautioned.Your body will not replenish the blood; You're not a bloodhost. It'll drain you dry, and you will die.

Feed him anyway. You know you want to. You crave it.The compelling voice countered.

Emeriel whined, her knuckles whitened. A war raged within her. To give in or resist?

But you know you want to,a new voice, softer, whispered.

With a choked sob, Emeriel surrendered. Muscles straining, she heaved her upper body up, bracing her back against his knee for support. With trembling hands, she gathered her tangled hair, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. Her bare throat pulsed in the dim light, a silent plea.

"I offer my blood to you, My King," she breathed, her voice barely louder than the rustle of her own breath. "Take it."

The beast's roar filled the air, a guttural sound vibrating through Emeriel's bones. Its massive form trembled, whether in anticipation of the feed or a primal struggle against its own nature, she couldn't tell. Its head drew closer from behind, breath caressing her ear.

A searing pain began in her neck as a single, razor-sharp fang scraped her flesh, leaving a burning welt in its wake. Then, it sank in deeper.

A jagged scream tore from Emeriel's throat as blinding pain ripped through her. She gasped for air. Fought to breathe. Her nails dug into her palms.

The beast didn't attempt to penetrate her with the rest of its fang—just that one tooth. It drew her blood in with small, measured sips.

Emeriel felt more than heard when he came. Spurts of warm sperm coated her insides and trickled out of her.

A wave of pleasure suddenly consumed her, triggering yet another release. She didn't make a sound. She couldn't.

The overwhelming sensation held her captive. Her eyes squeezed into slits, a chaotic blur of motion, while her body convulsed repeatedly, as if she were having a seizure. Maybe she was.

It was too much. Simply too much.

Finally, she slumped forward. Her vision swam, shapes and colors melting into one another. Sound lost meaning. Her body, sluggish and heavy, felt like a stranger to her.

Aftershocks rippled through her, her vision going dark around the edges.

And just as her senses faded into darkness, she felt the fang withdraw from her neck.

That night, the news of the beast's escape and killings spread throughout Urai, plunging the people into terror. The savage way the feral creature tore through one of their own without reason intensified their fear.

Chaos descended. Males shifted, assuming their beastly forms, standing guard outside their homes to protect their families. Slavemasters, their faces etched with a fear they'd rarely shown, scurried back to their dwellings, their hearts filled with wariness after witnessing the fate that befell their colleague.

The high lords of Urai convened an emergency meeting at the grand high court, led by the grand Lord, to discuss the situation.

Meanwhile, Aekeira rushed to Madam Livia, begging the older woman to go with her to the fourth wing to check on Emeriel.

Madam Livia agreed without hesitation and accompanied Aekeira. Upon arrival, they found Emeriel unconscious, carefully laid out in the corridors, just as before.

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