Page 50 of The Slave in A Princess Disguise

She was weak. She wanted this male. Needed him, like the very air she breathed. How could something so right be wrong?

With a sob, Emeriel turned and ran after him. Her feet pounding the forest path, her lungs burning with each desperate breath.

She spotted him ahead. His black robes blending with the shadows, the streak of bold white on either side of his hair shimmering in the moonlight.

Emeriel sprinted towards him, and without hesitation, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

He did not flinch, nor stumble, as if he had sensed her. His voice, when it came, was a growl that did things to her insides. "Galilea."

The way he said her name, the way it rolled off his tongue, was pure magic. How does one resistthat?

"I... I want to walk with you, Your Grace," she cried softly, against his back.

A guttural sound, somewhere between a sigh and a growl, escaped his lips. King Daemonikai turned, and their eyes met.

His was a deep, swirling emerald, while hers was a bright blue, brimming with unshed tears. The pain in her chest eased, replaced by calm.

Who needed to worry about the future when the present was so addictive?

"I really,reallywish to walk with you," she repeated, her voice gaining strength. "I wish to walk these dark woods with you. Please, take me with you."

A deep growl escaped his lips, and in a blink, he moved, pressing her against a towering oak tree, his body a wall of heat against hers.

Then, King Daemonikai's lips crashed onto hers.

Chapter fifteen

A BEAST’S TENDER LOVER

Thefiguredidnotmove. Nothing happened.

"Forget him. He's not bothering us, is he?" the leader snarled, turning his attention back to Aekeira. "Now, my fair one, where were we?"

"Leave me alone!" Aekeira shook with rage and fear. She had been so sure it was the grand lord, yet the figure's inaction filled her with doubt.

Had she been mistaken?

But her body only turned traitor for one male. And right now, it was pulsing with familiar warmth. It must be him.

Hands groped at her, lifting her garment higher, as a calloused hand clamped onto her jaw. "Hope you remain this feisty by the time we are done with you.”

"Friends," a voice laced with unease broke in. "I am not at ease with this. That is definitely a Urekai. The robes are a dead giveaway."

The others faltered, bravado waning as their eyes shifted toward the shadowed figure.

"So what? They do not care what we do in our free time, and tonight, we're off-duty. Let it go, you idiot." The leader smiled, smacking the nervous man on the back of his head.

Their hesitation vanished, their focus returning to their prey. Aekeira fought with renewed desperation, trying to keep her garment down even as they cruelly forced it up, their foul breath hot on her skin.

But she was no match for their strength. She closed her eyes. A hand reached for her undergarments and—

A blood-curdling scream pierced the night.

Aekeira's eyes flew open, just in time to witness one of her assailants being violently torn away from her. His hands was ripped off and discarded like puppet dolls.

The figure stood a few paces away, bathed in the eerie moonlight.

Another attacker was seized and flung into the trees, his agonizing screams reverberating through the forest. One by one, the men were killed, each in a more gruesome way than the last. Their cries of terror mingled with the nauseating sounds of flesh tearing and bones snapping.

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