Page 31 of The Slave in A Princess Disguise

"Fine, the one whonearlyquenched your thirst," Daemonikai amended with a wry grin.

Vladya rolled his eyes. "She is okay, I guess. She got a bit... high, so I had Yaz take her to her room to sleep it off."

Daemonikai paused, his interest piqued. "How high?"

High as a belfry,Vladya thought, remembering the intoxicating scent of her blood, the way her body responded to his touch.If I had not stopped, I could have brought her to multiple orgasms with just my fangs.

"Really high," was all he said aloud.

"Hmm. Interesting," the grand king mused. "I haven't seen that in a while. Sleepy, aroused, but not fully intoxicated."

I have.Emeriel got high when you drank from her the night before your return.

"Daemon?" Vladya called.

"Mmm?"

"Hypothetically speaking, if yourSoulbondwere to suddenly appear, how would you feel?"

Few seconds passed.

Daemonikai scoffed. "Soulbondsare practically extinct. It is pointless to ponder the impossible."

"Humor me," Vladya persisted. "If she were to appear before you right now, what would your reaction be?"

Daemonikai's eyes lifted towards the stars glittering above.

"I hope it never happens," he finally said. "I do not have the capacity for another bond right now, not even with mySoulbond. I am grateful such a female does not exist because then I would not have to choose to let thepersongo.”

Vladya nodded, a flicker of sadness crossing his face.

He had suspected as much, but hearing it voiced aloud was a stark reminder of how deep Daemonikai's grief ran. How raw his pain was.

Daemonikai looked at the sky as if the vastness mirrored the emptiness inside him. Then he stood to leave.

When they reached the fortress, Vladya paused at the intersection where their paths diverged.

"Feed, Daemon," he urged. "Two months is a long time not to feed during recovery. It is better to nourish yourself with your bloodhost than to drain countless others and remain unfulfilled. Even if her touch is unbearable, do it anyway. For your own well-being. Pretend she is Evielyn, if you must. Just call your bloodhost and feed."

Daemonikai stared into the distance, his silence hung in the air, stretching taut. Finally, he gave a single, sharp nod.

Relief softened Vladya’s features. "Thank you, Your Grace," he murmured, smiling a little.

“Cheeky bastard,” Daemonikai said with a good-natured snort, before he turned and strode away towards the Southern Wing.

Emeriel hurried towards the kitchen, anxiety twisting her stomach.

Madam Livia had summoned her, and it was her first time venturing to this part of the fortress. If not for the helpful kitchen hand guiding her, she would still be lost in the maze-like corridors.

Her mind dwelled on Lord Herod's words about the impending full heat. She had tried to distract herself all day, but the worry gnawed at her. Aekeira would have offered comfort, but her elder sister was asleep when Emeriel checked and she couldn't bring herself to disturb her.

The kitchen doors swung open, revealing a whirlwind of controlled chaos. Urekai maids rushed about with buckets of water, male servants lugged piles of firewood, all dodging the stern-faced kitchen mistress who barked orders like a seasoned general.

A sweating cook labored over a roaring fire, turning a spit-roasted boar. Another pounded herbs in a worn stone mortar, the fragrant scent of rosemary and thyme cutting through the smoky air. Pots bubbled on the hearth, their contents a mystery.

A wave of nerves washed over Emeriel as she navigated the bustling kitchen. But then she spotted Madam Livia, meticulously arranging silver platters on a long wooden table, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips.

"Emeriel," Madam Livia called, her voice cutting through the din.

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