After centuries of existence, filled with so many experiences both wondrous and horrific, very little could genuinely surprise him anymore.
He had borne witness to the full spectrum of the world’s nature-the beautiful heights of goodness and the abyssal depths of evil. Yet, even with a past scarred by darkness, he had never, in all his extensive life, envisioned a sight such as this.
Daemonikai had broken free to answer the boy’s call. The boy’s strange call.
Vladya’s voice caught in his throat, a strange knot of emotions twisting in his chest.
“Your Highness, did the feral beast of the grand king just… communicate with that boy?” Yaz’s voice, though hushed, held a tremor that betrayed his normally unflappable demeanor.
Even in the low murmur, Vladya could detect the disbelief edging into his trusted soldier’s tone.
Daemon had just saved Emeriel. Again.
His untamed, bestial friend had shown someone remarkable gentleness.
The boy was bloodfeeding a feral. Willingly.
Overwhelmed by the scene unfolding before him, Vladya struggled to process the sheer improbability of it all. His mind raced, each thought tripping over the last. His eyes were wide with astonishment, jaw slack in awe.
A lifetime of carefully cultivated composure faltered as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to form words. He was a master of self-control, nothing truly got to him anymore, yet this…
The beast clung to the boy as it drank from him.
Its paw did not dig into the boy’s skin. Instead, it delicately used a fang to draw blood from the boy’s pale neck.
He knew. Somehow, the feral knew that using fewer fangs while bloodfeeding in beast form would reduce the risk of harming the feeder.
Soft moans of pleasure emanated from the boy, his body writhing restlessly as the beast’s elixir coursed through his veins. But if the feral did not stop soon, it would drain the boy completely.
The boy came with a throaty whimper. Shudders rippled through his small frame. He squirmed even closer to the beast, burrowing deeper, as if he wanted to disappear into that fur.
And the feral placed a hand on his back, caressing the boy.
SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER FOR PART 1.
“Ukrae,” Yaz’s voice broke the silence once more, filled with astonishment. “Your Highness, if the grand king continues, he will drain the boy.”
It was true. Finally, Vladya managed to overcome his shock, forcing his stiff limbs to move. Yet his steps faltered after a single stride.
He watched, transfixed, as Daemonikai’s beast withdrew its fang from the boy’s neck, all on its own, sealing the wound with a gentle swipe of its tongue.
“They will kill you,” the boy’s voice was a fragile whisper against the beast’s fur, barely audible even to Vladya’s heightened senses. “I don’t want you to die.”
But Vladya had heard it. Every word, every tremor of despair.
He had heard Emeriel’s plea for help, the beast’s answering roar, the raw exchange of trust and need, and now, this.
“I wish for you to get better,” Emeriel’s words were starting to slur now. “Oh… I feel drowsy.”
The boy was high as the heavens. Blood-drunk, just like his sister.
The lingering scent of Aekeira still clung to him, intertwined with the warmth of her moisture on his inner robe.
Vladya needed to leave before the beast sensed his presence and considered him a threat. He retreated, his steps quick and silent, with Yaz following behind him.
His head spun with a whirlwind of thoughts, his mind racing to make sense of it all.
There were missing pieces, gaps that needed to be filled. Vladya needed time to think and connect the dots. He was overlooking something- that tiny, elusive detail that would finally make everything come together and make sense.
What in the world just happened back there? What had he just witnessed? He would find out.
AEKEIRA
That night, Aekeira sat beside Emeriel’s bed. Her fingers gently combing through her sleeping sister’s jet-black hair, her gaze fixed on the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.
“My brave, brave little sister,” she whispered.
To think she’d been blissfully unaware while Em had fought for her life today-not once, but twice-filled Aekeira with a shame she couldn’t shake.
Guilt gnawed at her. Aekeira should protect her little sister, not the other way around. She was the elder, after all.
Aekeira was the weak one, always hiding behind Em’s courage. Em was the one who worked extra hard, not only to keep up with the boys but to shield her sister in the process.
Their lives had always been harsh, yet they had found happiness in each other. Even amidst sorrow, they had shared smiles.
“Once we lose our smiles, we have nothing else,” Em used to say.
Once so unflappable, her poor sister had become withdrawn and easily frightened. Em had lost her smile, and now she cried almost every day. Even tonight.
Consumed with the pain of the beast’s death on the morrow, she had cried herself to sleep.
“Keira?” Em stirred, her voice groggy, eyes puffy. “Are you…”
“No, I’m not,” Aekeira smiled, tucking a strand of hair back. “Go back to sleep, Em.”
Em’s breathing steadied again, her features relaxing.
“Sleep, Em. If they kill the beast tomorrow, I will be here for you. We will get through the pain together. You have been strong for so long. From now on, I will be strong for both of us.” Aekeira kissed her forehead, a tear rolling down her cheek.
EMERIEL
A raw, suffocating grief twisted in Emeriel’s gut as he gazed down upon the crowd of Urekai, from his shadowed perch on the balcony of the southern wing. His heart heavy with sorrow.
The night enveloped the surroundings in darkness, yet the multitude of fire torches held by each Urekai illuminated the scene as if it were daylight. They assembled at the tournament arena, filling every seat, leaving no corner unoccupied. Some were even standing. Soldiers and Urekai maids were granted permission to attend, while humans were strictly forbidden.
“Any human found near the arena shall be burned alive,” Lord Zaiper had stated earlier that morning.
Thus, everyone was confined to their quarters. However, Emeriel had slipped away-not out of a desire for death, but because he simply could not bear to remain within the suffocating walls of his chamber. He had tried to stay put, he truly had.
Yet this pain… it was a living thing, gnawing at him from within. His heart burned, each beat a searing agony.
They will kill him tonight.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the image, swallowing a sob. The weight in his chest threatened to suffocate him.
“Em…?” a soft, gentle voice called.
Emeriel turned, tears streaming down his face as he met Aekeira’s gaze. A helpless plea reflected in his eyes.
“Oh, Em, don’t do this to yourself,” Aekeira whispered, her voice filled with worry.
His sister looked exhausted. She had been frantic with worry since yesterday, stressed for him.
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