“I thought Urekai had self-healing abilities for physical wounds,” the question slipped out before Emeriel could stop himself.
He quickly bit his lip, worried that he had overstepped his bounds.
“We do, and we don’t. It’s complicated,” Vladya replied curtly. “One has to blood-feed first for natural healing to begin. And for injuries like this, a healer is also needed.”
As they neared Blackstone, the impressive outline of the estate loomed against the last rays of the dying sun. A group of soldiers stood waiting.
Their eyes widened with alarm as they saw their ruler, but a sharp shake of the grand lord’s head cut off any offers of assistance they were about to make.
“I am fine,” Vladya insisted, and they reluctantly respected his wishes.
They followed behind the grand lord, all the way to the grand entrance of his home.
With a deep bow, Emeriel offered his heartfelt gratitude.
“My Lord Vladya, I am forever in your debt for saving my life.”
“Stay out of trouble,” Grand Lord Vladya’s tone was cool and dismissive. “Return to your quarters. Your duties are concluded for today.”
Emeriel obeyed, but worry gnawed at him as he left. Lord Vladya’s injuries had looked severe, even if he’d treated them as mere nuisances.
“I still can’t believe he saved my life,” Emeriel whispered, a mix of gratitude and confusion swirling within him.
He flung open the door to his quarters, took one step inside-and went very still.
A shadowy figure lurked against the far wall, its hand darting for a weapon sheathed at its hip. Another assassin.
Fear jolted through Emeriel. They were inside.
How many more were hiding in there?
He slammed the door shut with a frantic bang, quickly pivoting into a run. The crash of wood splintering echoed behind him, followed by the thunderous footsteps of his pursuers.
He could barely force his exhausted legs to keep up the desperate pace.
The good news was, this group didn’t seem to have the poisonous arrows. But the bad news?
They were closing in on him. Fast.
Emeriel had a single destination in mind.
Grand Lord Vladya’s quarters would have been a shorter journey, but his instincts drove him in one direction. His beast.
GRAND LORD VLADYA
Grand Lord Vladya slumped in his study chair, his gaze fixed blankly on the weathered stone wall. He had sent a soldier to summon Merrilyn.
The soldier’s report resounded in his skull: Lady Merrilyn had been in labor for hours and thus unable to make the journey.
The next thing to do was clear. He needed to hurry to his bloodhost before the poison reached his heart, while some strength remained, and get the much-needed blood himself. Even if it meant a sip from a goblet, just to sustain him until the healer arrived. Any other male in his position would have done it.
Not him.
His eyes fell to the ravaged flesh on his shoulder. The wound throbbed, swollen, black veins pulsing outward, tracing a macabre path toward his heart.
While hunting in the woods with his soldiers, he had spotted an assassin. He’d sent Yaz and the others ahead, then gave chase. He wasn’t surprised to learn they were targeting Emeriel. He had known yesterday’s events would put the boy in greater danger. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Was it Zaiper? Or were there others?
The door creaked open, and Yaz entered, his scent thick with concern. “I shall hurry to Lady Merrilyn’s dwelling and inform them of your poisoning, my Lord. She would bleed herself dry to save you, even amidst labor’s agony. She is unaware of the severity of your need.”
“There’s no need. Send for the healer,” Vladya dismissed with a wave of his hand.
Yaz remained rooted in place, his eyes filled with stormy determination. “The poison will reach your heart before the healer arrives.”
“Just do as I said, Yaz.” Vladya leaned back, his eyelids fluttering closed. He was so tired.
“But-” Yaz’s protest hung heavy in the silence.
In the end, however, the scrape of wood on stone marked Yaz’s reluctant departure.
AEKIEIRA
Aekeira tended her garden, the watering can a gentle weight in her hand. Sunlight dappled her skin as she moved with practiced grace, allowing a delicate stream of water to nourish the plants below. She tended to the vibrant array of flowers and vegetables. The sound of water meeting the soil brought her a sense of comfort, immersing her in the moment.
Then, the sharp crack of a footstep approaching shattered her tranquility. Startled, Aekeira whirled around.
Lord Vladya’s head soldier stood rigid, his familiar face hard.
“Lord Vladya summons you,” he stated, his voice clipped.
Aekeira’s heart skipped a beat. “He does?” It had been two days since that disastrous night, and she hadn’t seen him since.
The soldier clenched his jaw, flicking his gaze away. “Yes,” he confirmed, the word edged with a strange finality. “Make haste.”
“Is everything alright?” she asked tentatively, sensing there was more to the soldier’s behavior.
“Everything is fine,” he retorted, the words as sharp as a blade. “Now, come.”
“Just a moment to-“
“No, come at once,” the soldier snapped, a hint of urgency coloring his tone.
Dropping the watering can with a clatter, she removed her apron and hurried after him. Her pulse a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. What was going on?
They strode towards the grand entrance, and inside the vast residence. The soldier halted before an imposing set of doors.
“I will leave you here. He awaits within. Enter,” he commanded, his voice devoid of warmth. Then, with a brisk turn, he was gone.
Aekeira watched Yaz retreat, his stiff posture mirroring his master’s. Too serious, too rigid. Like master, like soldier.
Her knuckles turned white as she rapped hesitantly on the wood, the sound echoing in the strained silence. With a groan of ancient hinges, the door swung inward, revealing a sliver of shadowed space.
She ventured into the study, her steps hesitant as she crossed the threshold, the scent of old parchment filling her nostrils.
“Your Highness?” Aekeira’s voice shook despite her attempt at composure. “You called for me?”
GRAND LORD VLADYA
Vladya’s eyes opened, twin pools of darkness. Her scent hit him like a wave. It had always been alluring, but now, mixed with the fragrance of roses, Aekeira smelled unimaginably appealing.
“No,” he rasped through clenched teeth, the word a jagged shard of sound.
“No? But your head soldier… he said Yaz? He had brought Aekeira here?”
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply