The Princess In A ‘Prince’ Disguise (Beasts of Wrath and Madness #1)

18. THE RISE OF AN UNWANTED EMOTION

Chapter eighteen

THE RISE OF AN UNWANTED EMOTION

It had been a week since Emeriel's whipping when he was reassigned to the tavern again as a cellar slave.

He had done his best to avoid that place, even suggesting alternative work assignments when given the chance, but the slavemaster’s glare shut him up. He had no other option.

There was a weekend gathering at the tavern, and they needed extra help.

Although Emeriel was fortunate to be paired with Amie, she appeared just as dispirited as he was.

As Emeriel entered the inn with Amie trailing behind him, all eyes turned towards them. Urekai males occupied each table, some sipping ale, others engaged in card games.

Tankards of ale and goblets of wine were raised in toasts, while storytelling and minstrel music filled the air.

In the dark corners, some Urekai males had their slaves pleasuring them, while they laughed boisterously amidst their conversations. The tavern was bustling tonight.

Every step drew more eyes upon them as they made their way towards the counter.

"That boy is back again," Emeriel overheard someone mutter. Then, in a louder voice, the male called out, "Come here, slaves."

Emeriel wished he could pretend not to be the one summoned. However, with all those eyes fixed on him, he couldn't afford such a mistake.

He walked towards the male and stood before the table. "Good day, sirs," he greeted everyone at the table.

The Urekai male's large hand reached for his cheek and cradled it, frowning. "For a male, you have a ridiculously soft skin."

Hands groped his buttocks, touching and squeezing as if they had every right to do so.

Emeriel swallowed his revulsion, his body tense with the effort not to react.

"Yeah, you're right, Cypher. He's pretty soft, and that skin... as pale and beautiful as alabaster," one of them cheered. "Hey, slave, get down on your knees. You're going to suck me off."

Cypher glared at the other male. "Back off, Ralph. This one is mine." He turned back to Emeriel. "Get on your knees. I think the boys would be happy to see you suck cock. And if you're going to suck cock, it sure as hell will be mine."

"But I'm needed in the cellar. I have to go inside—"

"You don't need to do anything except what we tell you," Cypher threatened, his eyes filled with rage. "If you don't want me to cut off your tongue, you'll do as I ask. Right. Now."

Emeriel's knees hit the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man roughly groping Amie, another pair of hands on her breasts.

With trembling hands, Emeriel reached for Cypher's breeches.

"Emeriel! Amie! To the cellar now!" Slavemaster Boris's voice boomed in the air.

Emeriel snatched his hands back, quickly standing up. He had never been so relieved to hear his voice before.

"We're having fun, Boris," Cypher growled.

"Not with my slaves, and not now. We're short-handed. They're needed in the cellar," Boris firmly reinstated. "Unless you gentlemen aren't ready to get your ales as you want them."

Grumbling discontentedly, they released Emeriel and Amie, and the two hurried towards the cellar.

Inside, Master Gaine sat mixing drinks, his brow furrowed. "You're late."

"They weren't. The fellows wanted a piece of them," Master Boris said before they could talk.

"Stupid old fools.” Master Gaine grunted, continuing to mix ale with cider. ”Emeriel, get in here and help with this. Amie, go out and serve more customers."

They got to work without further delay.

"Just drop the food in and get out, Clay," The soldier ordered outside the metal gates of the forbidden chambers.

"I simply want to get a closer look at it. Besides, it is crouched lazily behind the barricade. I have always wondered what the grand king looked like up close.” His friend inched closer, daring to press his face to the gate. “Creator, his beast is magnificent."

"You have only worked here for months. Take advice from soldiers who have been here before you—you do not want to be standing so close to that beast."

"Pfft. It is not as dangerous as you all make it out to be, Sage.” Clay waved him off. “Wow, his talons are much more prominent than I've ever seen. Perhaps he will—"

An eerie sound rang through the air.

Sage turned around to face the chamber, a chill sliding down his body at the sight before him.

The beast stood in the center of the room, licking the blood off its hand.

Clay's lifeless body lay in one corner, while his head, torn from his neck, bled in another.

Sage stood frozen, unable to move.

The beast's yellow eyes fixed upon him, and he found the strength and bolted.

He ran through the haunting corridors of the forbidden chambers, making his way towards Blackstone. Grand Lord Vladya had sternly instructed them to inform him of incidents like this.

Sage arrived at the ruler's door and announced himself.

With his soldiers trailing behind him, Grand Lord Vladya made his way to the southern wing. "I reckon his food is already on the floor. Have the cook serve a new meal. I want it quickly delivered in the forbidden chambers."

"As you wish, Your Highness." The guard bowed, then hastened away.

When Vladya reached the forbidden chambers, the meal was indeed on the floor, covered in blood. The beast was back behind its barricades, staring at him with lazy eyes.

An amateur might mistake it for nonchalance, but Lord Vladya knew better. It was deceiving its prey, silently hunting, waiting to pounce.

"Leave us," he commanded.

Bowing slightly, the soldiers departed.

"Is this one of those days you refuse to eat?" VLadya asked, eyeing the beast.

"You do remember that while the blood sustains us as Urekai, we still need food, right?" And Vladya needed him to consume those herbs.

After Daemonikai turned feral, Vladya spent a fortune on thousands of herbs.

According to the mages, some were meant to clear the mind. To soothe and calm. Reduce madness. Provide solace.

Some diminished the beast's power, giving the male form greater control.

He had thought by administering all those herbs—all those pills and potions—that Daemonikai’s mind would miraculously return.

Grand Lord Vladya snorted.

Of course, now he finally accepted how fruitless and futile it was. But old habits die hard.

So, even after all these centuries, he still procured supplies of those herbs and made sure the beast consumed them regardless.

A soldier arrived with the tray of food.

"Place it there," Vladya pointed at a corner, his eyes not straying from the beast.

When they were alone again, Vladya bared his neck, gritting his teeth as he did so. His beast roared and raged inside him. “ We do NOT submit to anyone!”

Within seconds, the beast emerged from its barricades and stood before Vladya. After sniffing him, the beast snorted and backed away.

Vladya brought in the large tray consisting of all kinds of steak and just a few vegetables.

Minutes passed while Vladya waited patiently, but the beast simply ignored the food. He tried everything he could, but the beast ended up spurning them.

An hour and four plates later, Vladya knew there was no escaping it. If he wanted the beast to eat, he needed to exhaust it.

Fighting ferals was never a wise course of action, but it was the only way. With a resigned deep breath, Vladya allowed his beast to surface.

Two Urekai alpha beasts now faced each other. Huge. Domineering. While one reeked of aggression, the other was placating.

They bumped heads together, and then the fight began. The feral fought to kill, while the other defended, actively engaging the feral.

It was brutal. Savage. Lethal.

After what felt like an eternity, the beast grew tired. Exhaustion hit Vladya as he shifted back into his human form. He had bruises, some bleeding profusely, while others were light scratches.

But Daemonikai was finally eating—the beast had no choice; it needed to replenish after exerting so much strength in the fight. It was instinct.

Vladya dressed in the spare clothes his men had prepared for him and left the forbidden chambers. With his troop of soldiers dismissed, he walked alone.

Then, he saw her. The slave princess, Aekeira.

She carried a bucket filled with water on her head. If Vladya were to guess, she was on duty to fill the large drums. He paused for a moment and observed her.

The girl was stunning—no human had the right to possess such beauty. And she wore her royalty like a cloak, even in her slave garments.

That inexplicable attraction surged through him. Alien. Overpowering.

Followed by anger, extinguishing the attraction as soon as it arose. Burning hot. Raging.

She had no right to evoke such feelings within him. No matter how transient they were, she had NO right. No human had that power.

How dare she?

For a second, he took a step forward. His hands fisted. He needed to punish her.

Humans and their audacity. How dare she arouse such emotion inside him? He practically shook with the need to make her hurt.

"You must return to Blackstone, Your Highness. You need to feed," Yaz's voice made him pause.

His head soldier stood by the wall, looking at him with concern.

"I dismissed you all, Yaz. You did not leave with the others?"

"No, my lord."

Lord Vlayda was not surprised. And Yaz was right; he did need to feed.

With a last look of pure loathing directed at the girl, he turned and walked in the opposite direction, back to Blackstone.

Master Gaine had gone out to oversee the other slaves working in the backyard, assigning Emeriel the task of unloading the new drinks that arrived that night.

Thus, Emeriel found himself alone in the cellar, unpacking and arranging the beverages accordingly.

The door creaked open, and Master Boris entered.

Holy hell. Emeriel had avoided the slavemaster all evening. Unease filled Emeriel inwardly, as he greeted the slavemaster before resuming his duties.

"Well, well, well, look who I finally have all to myself. Come here, Emeriel."

Emeriel reluctantly rose at the command and approached Master Boris as the slavemaster locked the door behind them, his face inscrutable.

As Emeriel drew near, Master Boris grabbed him roughly and slammed him against the nearest wall, using his body to pin him there.

Fear surged through Emeriel, and instinctively, he began to struggle.

But the slavemaster tightened his grip on Emeriel's waist, his hold so firm Emeriel knew it would leave a mark.

Emeriel cried out and fought harder.

"Stop that!" Master Boris barked, the yellow flecks in his eyes dilating, almost swallowing the gray. “You have been running from me, but you can't hide.”

His beast was close to the surface. Emeriel stilled instantly, trembling.

"Let me tell you how it's going to be. You cooperate, and I will only take what I want without causing excessive pain. Oh, it will hurt, but if you're compliant, I might spare you torture. Do you understand me?" Master Boris's voice had deepened.

Terrified, Emeriel vigorously nodded. "P-please, don't do this."

The slavemaster completely ignored his plea, forcing Emeriel to kneel. Then unfastened his own breeches, pulling them down to his ankles.

His organ sprang free. Large, rigid, and erect, precum glistening at the tip.

Emeriel did not want that repulsive thing anywhere near him. It disgusted him.

He was not completely defenseless; he knew he could hold his own against another human. But against a Urekai? He stood no fighting chance.

"I b-belong to Grand Lord Vladya. He will kill you—kill us both when he finds out," Emeriel stammered, glaring at the penis.

It was nowhere near as large as those of the beast, but he was still a Urekai, and it was still imposing.

"I used scent suppressors; he cannot smell me on you. So, he will not find out.” Master Boris gripped his hair, forcefully tilting his head back. “Not if you keep your mouth shut."

His grip tightened. "I can make your time here as a cellar slave pleasant or a living hell. The choice is yours."

With that, he forced Emeriel's mouth toward his manhood, using his other hand to guide it forward.

.