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

53. THE GRAND KING

A raw, suffocating grief consumed Emeriel as he gazed down upon the crowd of Urekai, from his shadowed perch on the balcony of the southern wing. 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 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, killing 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.

"Em...?" a soft, gentle voice called.

Emeriel turned, tears streaming down his face as he met Aekeira's gaze. A helpless plea 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, stressed for him.

Yesterday, Emeriel had felt intoxicated in a way he never had before. He had floated a kind of soothing euphoria he'd never known, all because his Beloved had drunk from him. A strange lightness. Blissful. Relaxing.

He had woken afterward, in the forbidden chamber, the beast's arm draped protectively over him.

And now, they would execute him.

"Don't, don't," Aekeira pleaded, but it was too late.

Sobs ripped from Emeriel's throat, tears streaming down his face.

"Em..." Aekeira whispered helplessly, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"It hurts," he gasped, his body shaking as he clung to Aekeira, his voice breaking. "Like someone is sawing at my limb."

"It's alright, it's alright. I am here for you," Aekeira soothed, her own voice trembling as she fought back her own tears. "Let it all out."

"No, she should not ." Madam Livia stood silhouetted against the torchlight, her expression stern. “What are you two doing here?"

They sprang apart, staring at the older woman guiltily.

"Do you wish to be burned alive?" Livia's voice was sharp, yet a hint of concern softened her words. "Aekeira, why are you encouraging her to cry and attract the soldiers? You two should not be here."

"Madam Livia..." Emeriel cried hoarsely, but she cut him off with a raised hand.

"Enough. Back to your rooms, now."

Emeriel shook his head in protest.

"Go now," There was no room for argument in her tone. "You both are far from Blackstone, and it’s not safe. Come, I shall lead you back to your rooms."

With a final, shuddering sob, he allowed Aekeira to guide him away. Together, they followed the head maid back to the safety of their quarters.

Grand Lord Zaiper stood tall at the podium, his eyes sweeping over the crowd assembled before him—the vast expanse of faces illuminated by torchlight. He could barely contain the triumphant grin tugging at his lips.

His heart swelled with such joy that he had to fight the urge to whistle a merry tune. With effort, he composed his features into a mask of cool authority. Tonight was a night for celebration.

Finally.

After tonight, he would be one giant step closer to claiming the grand throne.

To his right, Ottai’s shoulders slumped in mourning, sadness, and desolation etched on his face. On his left, Vladya remained his usual enigmatic self. But Zaiper could sense the tension radiating from him. The male was a coiled spring, ready to snap.

As they waited for the soldiers to complete their preparations – ensuring everyone was seated and the pathways were clear – Zaiper's eyes settled on three healers seated across from them.

They were the ones responsible for concocting the poisons that had been administered to the beast earlier in the day, weakening its strength. Now, the lead healer carefully coated three ceremonial daggers with a fresh batch of venom.

Zaiper could already envision how this night would end, could almost taste the power that awaited him. It was intoxicating. Exhilarating.

And the anticipation was killing him.

"My dearest people.” He rose, addressing the crowd. “We gather here tonight to pay our final respects, and to bid farewell to our grand ruler. Tonight, he will officially join our ancestors in the realm beyond."

Zaiper's heightened senses picked up the soft sounds of weeping from the crowd and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Soldiers, bring forth the beast," he commanded.

The sound of doors creaking open, followed by the rattle of chains. Ten soldiers emerged, laboriously carrying a massive cage of reinforced steel, designed to withstand tremendous force. Inside, the colossal beast lay motionless.

Zaiper noted the numerous darts embedded in the beast's hide, the tools used to subdue and weaken it. And it had worked.

Though they lacked the power of the Eclipse Moon, Daemonikai’s legendary beast had been reduced to the state of a mere lad, stripped of its power and menace.

Gazing upon the creature, Zaiper could scarcely believe this was the same beast that had overpowered him and his own beast on countless occasions, more times than he cared to admit.

Tonight was his night.

He could almost taste the victory.

Grand Lord Vladya's fists clenched. Then, slowly, unfurled as the soldiers secured the cage in the center of the arena.

Zaiper's voice droned on like a litany that was meaningless, reciting rituals and traditions Vladya did not want to hear.

He had spent the night going over ancient texts. All the complex lines of the Xaa'l Tbeh Zeek spell are running through his mind. Even now, he traced the sigils with his thoughts, rehearsing what was to come.

Thick with the scent of sorrow and also anguish, the night's air threatened to suffocate him. The wails of the women was loud, like a mourning chorus that made Vladya's gut clench.

Zaiper remained indifferent as he continued with the rituals.

After the readings came the moment of execution, where Daemonikai would be killed forever.

But not on Vladya's watch.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

He could feel the power of Xaa'l Tbeh Zeek thrumming beneath his skin. The forbidden spell ready to unleash.

Vladya had no idea what he had been expecting after the beast drank from the boy. But as the hours passed and the time for Daemon to be eliminated drew closer, the feeling of disappointment was almost crippling.

It irritated him. They had agreed a long time ago that miracles did not happen. Vladya had been a fool to think that one might occur from a mere bloodfeeding.

"And now," Zaiper's voice boomed through the arena. "We proceed with the termination." He gestured to the healers. "Bring forth the blades."

The healers emerged, their faces pale and drawn, bearing three ceremonial daggers on velvet cushions, their poisoned tips glinting in the firelight.

Each Grand Lord accepted their weapon.

Rising from their thrones in a synchronized move, their heavy robes swirled around them like cloaks.

One by one, they descended the steps into the arena, their foot sounding like a heavy drum in the quiet night.

Vladya gripped the hilt of the cold metal dagger. The execution was brutally simple. They would approach the cage, partially shift into their beast forms, and plunge the dagger deep into the feral's abdomen.

As they neared the cage, Vladya initiated the first step of the mind exchange ritual.

Opening his mind, he began to hum a low, resonant tune.

A deafening thunderclap ripped through the tensed arena, shaking its very foundations.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, growing into cries of mourning and grief.

As if in answer, a bolt of lightning split the sky, momentarily lighting up the place.

Another thunderclap, even louder than the first, shook the earth.

Then, the beast stirred.

The grand lords froze. Their gazes locked onto the form within the cage. Despite the veil of darkness that cloaked the arena, the feral's movements could not be mistaken.

"He...moved?" Ottai's voice cracked, his eyes widening as he turned to Zaiper. "I thought you said the darts had done their job?"

"Of course they did," Zaiper said, confidently. "Three vials of iron shards dissolved in a solution infused with scented leaves from Abaddin—"

The beast raised its massive head. The chains around its limbs clinking as it slowly straightened.

A collective gasp rose from the audience. Those who had been slouching in their seats leaned forward, their eyes on the feral.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the arena.

The first drops of rain began to fall. The gentle patter on the stone was barely heard over the hushed whispers of the crowd.

"What's happening?" Zaiper's voice was a growing panic, his composure cracking.

And then, before their very eyes, the beast began to shift.

Paws elongated into hands. Fur receded to reveal smooth skin. A wild mane smoothed into dark, flowing hair. The transformation was gradual, but undeniable.

A pin could have dropped in the stunned silence that followed.

Right there, in front of thousands of astonished Urekai, the beast completed its transformation.

Where the beast form had lain moments before, now sat Grand King Daemonikai, the tranquilizer darts scattered around him.

His emerald eyes languidly took in the chains that bound him. With a flex of his powerful muscles, they shattered like brittle twigs.

The crowd erupted in a collection of gasps, whispers, and exclamations.

"The beast...shifted!"

"The King has returned?"

"Holy Ukrae!"

Grand King Daemonikai appeared disoriented as he took in his surroundings, his gaze sweeping across the arena. His eyes passed over Vladya...then snapped back, locking onto him.

A strangled sound escaped Vladya's throat. The ceremonial dagger slipped from his nerveless fingers, clattering to the sand. Then, he was moving, his body acting on pure instinct.

He crossed the arena in a blur, his hands warped into vicious claws as he ran.

The massive paws slammed against the cage locks, metal shrieking in protest before shattering. He ripped the door open, his hand male once more as he crawled inside, his eyes fixed on Daemonikai.

"D-Daemon?" The name emerged as a hoarse whisper, thick with a mixture of fear and hope.

Vladya's throat tightened with so many emotions he couldn't name. Trembling hands reached out, ghosting over familiar features unseen for five hundred years.

Emerald eyes that always held a purpose, a mouth that was either set in a grim line or curled into a mocking grin. A face Vladya had thought was lost forever.

"Is it r-really you?" Vladya's fingers traced the contours of Daemonikai's face, his eyes filled with tears. "Please, tell me you are in t-there. Tell me you are back."

Daemonikai's eyes fluttered open again, green irises clouded with exhaustion. His throat worked as he struggled to form words.

"You're... still... the same... emotional... wreck, V.D," he rasped, his voice rough and halting.

The familiar nickname, spoken in that familiar voice, shattered the last vestiges of Vladya's composure. A sob tore from his throat as he shoved himself into Daemonikai in a fierce hug.

A tired chuckle rumbled in Daemon's chest. He lifted a hand, placing it gently on Vladya's back, returning the embrace.

Tears spilled from Vladya's eyes, spilling onto Daemon's shoulder. "Please tell me you are here to stay."

"I am...here to...stay."

"Tell me you will never leave again." Vladya choked out, his arm tightening. His big body trembled.

"V.D...." his voice was a sigh.

"You bastard. You had no right. No right to leave the way you did. No right to—"

"I am sorry," Daemon croaked.

The world narrowed to this moment, this reunion. Thank Ukrae, thank Ukrae, thank Ukrae . Daemonikai was back. He was back .

"D-Daemon?" Ottai's voice, trembling with disbelief, filtered through the bars of the cage. "Y-Your Grace?"

"Ottai..." the grand king whispered.

"Holy heavens!" Ottai scrambled into the cage, tears streaming down his face as he embraced his king too. "You're back...you're back ! Thank you! Thank you! "

A shout of jubilation crashed over the arena.

The crowd rushed forward, abandoning their seats in a frenzy of excitement. Soldiers formed a protective circle, holding back the eager throng, but the cheers were deafening.

The air crackled with unbridled joy, the scent of happiness, relief, and elation was overpowering.

"The grand king is back! The grand king is back! The grand king is back!" The chant echoed, growing louder with each repetition.

And then, as one, the voices of thousands rose to the heavens in a thunderous declaration.

"Long live the king!"