13. A COLD NIGHT.
Chapter thirteen
A COLD NIGHT.
"I don't believe I heard that correctly. Emeriel did what ?" Grand Lord Zaiper shouted.
"From what I've gathered, she disarmed and killed the assassin," Razarr confirmed, his voice steady despite his lord's outburst.
The second ruler stopped pacing and glared at his head soldier.
Razarr met his gaze briefly before bowing his head in deference. The tension in the air was thick, but a soft chuckle sliced through.
Zaiper whirled around. "What in the hell is so damn amusing, Sinai?"
The mistress tilted her head. "Oh, forgive me, Lord Zaiper. It’s just… well, that 'tiny human girl' seems to have thrown quite the wrench in your plans," she purred, stifling a giggle he could see. "I can’t help but wonder how lightly she must have touched the assassin's neck to turn his lights off… forever ," Sinai snickered.
Zaiper's nostrils flared. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"
"It is rather amusing, I won't deny it," she drawled, flashing teeth. "But don’t get me wrong, it’s also a problem. I heard they have launched a full investigation. What if the trail leads back to you?"
"Not possible. I was careful," Zaiper growled. “The only one who might know anything is his wife, and she wouldn’t dare speak against me. She’s not that foolish."
Sinai arched a brow. "Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that." Her fingers idly traced the edges of her well-manicured nails. “When a mother hen is desperate to protect her young, logic and fear go out the window. I’ve heard the soldiers even rounded up their families, including the younglings, for questioning. Desperation does funny things to people."
"Hmm." Hands clasped behind his back, Zaiper pondered her words. "Then she must be dealt with. Razarr, make arrangements. Poison her next meal. Ensure it’s untraceable."
Razarr bowed and left the room.
"I still can’t believe that little breeze of a girl managed to defeat my assassin.” Zaiper’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Pure luck, no doubt. But lately, it seems she has too much of that on her side. I don’t like it."
"I told you before, everything is different with that girl since her return," Sinai said. “It’s not just her status that’s changed. Her strength, her poise, even the way our people look at her now. Especially since she’s been spending all her time tending to my Daemon."
"That’s where it ends,” Zaiper asserted confidently. “No matter how civilized our people become, they will never accept her mating Daemonikai. Neither would Daemonikai himself. I don’t understand why you are so concerned, she’s nothing but a minor nuisance."
"And that minor nuisance just stirred up an investigation that could lead directly to you, Lord Zaiper." Sinai's grin widened, all teeth. "Take my advice. Do not underestimate her."
"I will waste no time worrying about a mere human girl."
The mistress clucked her tongue. "And make no further attempts on the grand king’s life. Let this situation blow over. If you're lucky, he won't recover, and his dying soul will finish him off for you."
"True," Zaiper concede, casting a sidelong glance at her. "You really are a mean little thing, aren't you? I would have sworn you cared for that male."
The mistress had the decency to look guilty. She cleared her throat. "I do care for him."
Zaiper rolled his eyes. "Of course you do."
She shrugged. "So, what’s your next move, My Lord?"
"What do you suggest?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"I think it’s time you secure an heir.”
Zaiper was sure the woman was joking. He looked at her like she had just grown a new pair of arms. “Excuse me?”
“The grand throne has always remained stable because Myka was the heir. But with him and Alvin gone, the throne has only Daemonikai left.” A smile touched her lips. “His family is gone, his bloodline is empty once again."
Zaiper’s brows furrowed as he listened intently.
“You need an heir, My Lord. If Daemonikai dies and you assume the throne, an heir solidifies your claim. Fortify your hold as the undisputed ownership of the throne,” Sinai drawled, blowing air at her manicured fingers. “An heir will secure the future of Dragaxlov as the Nil'nhile , and the grand throne will remain within your lineage."
Zaiper was struck by the brilliance of her suggestion. Why hadn’t he considered this before?
Anger vanishing, a wicked grin spread across his face. He strode to Sinai, cupped her face, and planted a filthy, possessive kiss on her lips.
Sinai chuckled through it, kissing him back.
"That—" he gave her another noisy kiss "—is a brilliant idea."
"I know," Sinai said, smug. "But don’t get too ahead of yourself, My Lord. Conceiving the idea is the easy part. The execution is where the challenge lies.”
“I know our people do not birth easily, but I must father an heir. I must .” Zaiper stepped back, filled with resolve.
The mistress cackled. "Look at that determination."
"I'll have my men discreetly kidnap every girl that goes into heat in this kingdom for me, bonded and unbonded, and breed them all, if that's what it takes. I will be the next and only ruler with a child in this fortress," Grand Lord Zaiper vowed.
***
Exhaustion finally claiming her, Emeriel dozed off into a restless sleep in the armchair, when a jolt snapped her awake. Suddenly on high alert, she followed her instinct, rising and moving toward the bed.
King Daemonikai’s color had changed to an even more deathly pale. As white as freshly fallen snow.
"My King?" She rushed to his side, grasping his arm. Only to recoil the instant her skin made contact.
Unnaturally cold.
" It’s the frostfever! " Emeriel screamed.
The door banged open as the guards stormed in, alarmed. "Princess, what’s happening?"
"Get Lord Ottai! Fetch Madam Livia!" she shouted. "Now!"
Hands hovering over him, Emeriel was unsure where to touch. As she tried to find some part of him that was warm, the cold seeped into her fingertips, numbing her.
Everywhere was icy. Colder than she had imagined possible.
"Stay with me," she cupped his icy hands in hers, ignoring the biting cold. Touching him everywhere she could reach… his forehead, his shoulders, his arms. "Please stay with me, Your Grace. You can do this. I know you can."
Driven, Emeriel sprang up and dashed out of the room, only to return with armfuls of blankets. She piled them on top of him, burying him under a mountain of wool.
Yet, it didn't seem like enough. He needed more. He needed more!
"I'm here! Step back, Emeriel!" Lord Ottai barged in, two buckets in hand, steam rising from them in furious spirals. "Get those blankets off him, quickly."
Fumbling, she tore the blankets away and Lord Ottai wasted no time tipping the first bucket over him.
The boiling water hissed as it hit his frozen skin, drenching him head to toe.
The heat vanished almost instantly, the water cooling within seconds.
Light-gods… This is not real. There's no way this is happening.
Swearing under his breath, Lord Ottai grabbed the second bucket and poured it over him as well.
The result was the same. The water turned cold before it could even begin to do its work.
More guards arrived, carrying an endless supply of steaming buckets. Lord Ottai continued to offload bucket after bucket over the grand king, each time the warmth vanished almost as soon as it touched his frigid body.
Emeriel lost count of how many buckets they’d used, her heart sinking deeper each time the water failed to warm him.
Out the window, she saw the night sky alight with firesticks. The grounds were filled with a crowd kneeling in prayer. Urekai… and humans.
Her breath caught. There were no soldiers pushing the humans back. No conflict, no hostility. Just peaceful coexistence. Prayers whispered into the night, for the grand king’s safe crossing and return. A moment of unity between the two species. So rare, so beautiful.
Looking back at King Daemonikai, puffs of air shuddered out of Emeriel in relief.
His temperature had begun to shift. A touch of color had returned to his skin. The cold was slowly retreating.
"That’s enough for now," Lord Ottai said, his voice hoarse but relieved.
"But his temperature is still low," Emeriel protested.
"We are trying to help him cross the Cold Sea, not drown him.” The grand lord glanced around. “Livia, use the washcloths."
Madam Livia stepped forward, knelt beside the bed, and began to carefully wash the grand king’s body with the steaming water.
The chill remained, but at least the water no longer hissed on contact. Finally, Emeriel relaxed.
But it didn’t last long.
Minutes later, the cold crept back, crawling up his body like a wakening tide.
Enough of this.
Without a second thought, Emeriel started taking off her clothes.
Lord Ottai looked at her, alarmed. "What are you doing?"
Ignoring him, she shed her everything quickly. Heat. I must keep him warm.
Naked, she climbed into bed beside King Daemonikai, pressing her body against his frozen skin. The cold was biting, painful. But she didn’t care.
Arms encircling his chest, legs entangling with his, Emeriel wrapped around him like a snake. Her body trembled from the cold, but she gritted her teeth. I'm not letting go.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind!?” Lord Ottai bellowed.
"This is dangerous, Emeriel!" Madam Livia shrieked, panicked. "You could freeze to death!"
She tuned them out. Must warm my man. Mine.
He’s not yours anymore, a part of her reminded her.
For now, Emeriel whispered back inwardly , just for a little while… he’s mine. I must save him.
"You're just as stubborn as he is. Why am I not surprised they chose you for him!?" Lord Ottai sounded frantic.
Moving atop him, Emeriel shifted so her body covered as much of him as possible. "Stay with me," she murmured, her breath ghosting over his neck. "Just stay with me a little longer."
Her fingers traced over his skin, cold to the touch, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
"This is dangerous.” Lord Ottai’s tone turned pleading. “Please, Emeriel, listen to me.”
"If he becomes too cold, I will move away," Emeriel finally responded.
"Are you sure?" Lord Ottai asked.
No, he was already too cold. "I'm sure." She had to try hard to keep her teeth from clattering.
Madam Livia's head snapped up. "But—"
"Get the pile of blankets." Emeriel's eyes locked on the king's pale, unresponsive face.
They were quickly covered with a pile of warm wool. But the cold swallowed every bit of warmth, Emeriel barely felt the layers of fabric.
Madam Livia continued her work, exposing the king’s feet and hands one by one to wash them with the hot, sizzling water.
"You are the strongest male I know." Emeriel's hand cupped his cheek. "We all believe in you."
Leaning in, she gazed into those vacant green eyes. "You are the almighty Daemonikai, King of the Urekai. You will glide across that sea like it’s a mere creek."
Pressing a kiss against his cold lips, she whispered, "You are not alone. I’m right here beside you."
As the night deepened, stretching on in silence, everyone departed one by one.
Eventually Lord Ottai rose as well, walking to the door. "I will check back in the morning."
Emeriel felt his eyes on her back.
"The gods couldn’t have given him a better Soulbond . You’re stronger than many of our females combined, Princess."
Emeriel had no words for that, so she didn't respond and the door closed behind her.
Alone with him, she finally let herself go, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She was so cold she could barely feel parts of her body.
Still, her eyes stayed on him, vigilant. She kept talking to him, even as her voice trembled.
His temperature fluctuated, sometimes warmer, sometimes colder, but it never reached that terrifying, bone-deep icyness again.
She watched over him as the night stretched on endlessly.
Only at dawn did her eyes grow heavy. The exhaustion she had fought tirelessly, finally closing in.
You can't afford to sleep. You must stay awake.
But in the end, fatigue became too much. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she succumbed to the pull of sleep.
Head resting on his chest.
Hands clasped tightly in his.
***
"Emeriel…"
The soft whisper drifted into Emeriel's dreams.
No… no, I just fell asleep, she thought groggily, her mind struggling to cling to the remnants of rest. I need more.
"Emeriel… wake up."
His voice.
Her eyes flew open.
It took her only a moment to remember where she was, why she was there, and whose warm body her naked one was pressed against. Whose hand was now softly stroking her hair.
Lifting her head, she looked at his face.
Those green eyes, once vacant and distant, stared back at Emeriel, this time full of awareness.
They blinked slowly.