15. DRY. VACANT.
Chapter fifteen
DRY. VACANT.
Daisies.
A profusion of cheerful white daisies with sunny yellow centers.
Emeriel's heart skipped a beat as she accepted the basket. Despite herself, Emeriel's lips curled into a smile.
What are you doing?
But her hands refused to let go of the gift.
Burying her face in the fragrant blooms, Emeriel inhaled deeply. The scent filled her lungs, warm and sweet.
If the lilies from his people had calmed her, these daisies from the king warmed her entire being.
Dangerous, dangerous path.
The sensible thing would be to return the flowers, thanking the king for his hospitality but politely declining the gesture. Or, better yet, give the daisies away to someone else, and keep her distance.
But her feet carried her across the room. Setting the basket down, she rummaged for an empty vase, filling it with water and gently arranging the daisies within it. She had no business placing the vase by the side of her bed.
It’s okay, I’m not staying anyway, she reasoned as she stepped back, surveying her work.
Once King Daemonikai fully recovered, whether the bond rekindled or not, Emeriel would return to Navia.
This was temporary. Fleeting.
The flowers didn’t mean anything.
***
"Thank you so much for your help, Princess," the soldier said with gratitude.
“It’s alright. Your daughter is my friend.” Emeriel glanced at little Dabekka, who sat beside her, gazing up with wide, appreciative eyes. She ruffled the youngling's hair. "I'm glad I could help."
"Bekka told me you've been visiting daily," the soldier said, his voice filled with emotions. "You saved my beloved's life." He looked close to tears again, and Emeriel shifted uncomfortably. "I had no idea she was ill. Bekka can't use a messenger bird yet."
Shame entered the girl’s doe-like eyes. Emeriel smiled at her, then turned to her father. "She could learn, you know. Start early. Bekka is smart."
"That she is," he agreed, his gaze soft as he looked at his sleeping bondmate. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss on her cheek. "My dearest beloved," he whispered. "I’m here now. I’ll take good care of you, I promise."
So much love in those eyes.
Emeriel's heart clenched, and the walls of the room closed in. "I have to take my leave now," she said abruptly, turning toward the door.
"Wait!"
Emeriel paused, glancing back over her shoulder.
The soldier stood awkwardly, guilt written all over his face. He couldn't meet her eyes. "I’ve been meaning to apologize," he began, his voice heavy. "That day, in the courtyard… I was among those who wanted you imprisoned without food or water. When his Highness, Zaiper, commanded it, I was glad. And when the king overruled him, I was disappointed. I even wished for you to die."
He swallowed hard, shame evident in his every word. "The guilt has plagued me since then. You didn’t hurt anyone. It’s not your fault you were born human. Seeing how you’ve been helping—how you saved my Dabekka and my beloved—I can hardly live with myself." He finally looked up, his eyes pleading. "Please, forgive me."
Silence settled between them.
"It's all in the past," Emeriel said at last, her voice raspy.
She couldn’t believe how emotional his words made her. How fulfilling it was to hear this. “I hold nothing against you. Just… treat your family right."
"Always," he vowed. "I would die for them."
"That’s all I ask," she said softly. "I will take my leave now."
The soldier straightened, then bent into a deep bow. "Your Majesty."
Stepping out into the corridor, Emeriel was finally able to breathe freely again. The cool air kissed her face, but a bittersweet ache lingered.
How nice would it be to be looked at like that, with such love and devotion?
Pushing those unwelcome feelings aside, Emeriel continued on her way, the soldiers trailing behind her.
As she entered Ravenshadow, the fortress buzzed with energy, the atmosphere lighter than she had seen it since her return. The people were lively, conversations animated.
"Did you hear?" one Urekai excitedly told another. "The king will appear in court today!"
"For the first time in fifteen months!" another Urekai exclaimed. "I bet the Vampire of Greyrock isn't pleased."
"When is he ever?" another scoffed. "I'm just glad the grand king is back. I hate Lord Zaiper with a passion."
"Oh! It's the grand king!" a voice cried out.
Emeriel whirled around. The crowd was already gathering, joyous exclamations rippling through them.
Hoofbeats sounded in the distance, and soon, a procession of soldiers and high lords appeared, the banners of the Urekai fluttering in the breeze.
And then she saw him.
The grand king rode in the middle. As always, he stood out, commanding and regal. Emeriel had grown used to seeing him in simple undershirts during his illness, but now, his powerful bearing was fully restored.
Clad in his full grand king attire—a richly decorated white robe glistened in the sunlight—he looked larger than life.
He smiled at his people, waving in response to their cheers. Some he leaned down to ruffle their hair, others he greeted with a gentle kiss to their offered hands.
As he moved forward, the crowd parted willingly, creating a path that led directly toward…
You are in his way. Step aside.
Emeriel moved to the side, creating space for him to pass. Dipping her head slightly, she hoped to blend into the crowd.
But his entourage came to a halt before her. The troops stopped, and Grand King Daemonikai dismounted.
In the midst of the bustling crowd, with all eyes on him, he strode to her.
Stopping in front of her, his eyes locked onto hers. Time slowed.
The murmur of the crowd faded into a distant hum.
Taking her hand, his touch both familiar and foreign, he pressed his lips against her knuckles. "My elusive Beloved," he said, his voice a warm caress. "Please, will you walk with me?"
No.
It was right there, at the tip of her tongue. All she had to do was open her mouth and breathe the word out.
But her lips refused to move, the protest stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat. Why was it so hard?
She did not want to walk with him. Every part of her that had toiled, survived, and endured screamed against it.
Yet, she took a step forward, towards him. The people erupted in a chorus of approval, some clapping their hands.
In what alternate universe had she fallen into? The grand king calling her Beloved, and Urekai cheering them? Emeriel had no idea what was real and what wasn't anymore.
"Thank you, Beloved," King Daemonikai said, once again pressing a kiss to her hand.
"Please don’t call me that," Emeriel snapped.
The endearment carried the sweetness of what could have been and the bitterness of what was lost. It made her heart lurch.
His smile dimmed, sadness flashing in his eyes.
"Forgive me, Beloved," he said smoothly. "I will take that into account."
She glared.
A broad grin lit up his face.
Emeriel almost swallowed her tongue at the sight. Never had she seen him smile that way.
Hell, she had never seen him genuinely smile. Period.
It tugged at her insides, and she stared dumbfounded as he led her to his waiting steed.
Finally, she caught herself. "There is no extra horse," she noted, her voice dry.
"You will ride with me." He climbed into the saddle, extending his hand towards her. "Worry not, Beloved. I will not let you fall."
No, it wasn’t that kind of fall she was afraid of.
Emeriel absolutely hated the way "beloved" sounded coming from his lips. She hated the thrill it sent through her, the way it awakened parts of her she had fought to bury.
Hated how much she wanted to hear more of it.
With a reluctant sigh, she placed her hand in his strong, calloused one, and he effortlessly lifted her onto the horse, positioning her close behind him. He gave a subtle command, and they set off at a leisurely pace.
The closeness was suffocating.
His scent, the solidness of his back. The warmth of his body. Heavens, this was a terrible idea. A terrible, stupid, reckless idea.
The grand king glanced over his shoulder. "How was your morning, beautiful?"
"The morning is still fresh, Your Grace," she grumbled. Hesitated, then added, "I received the flowers. Thank you."
"You are most welcome," he said warmly. "The day is beautiful, is it not?"
"For a male who crawled out of death’s mouth, you're certainly in high spirits this morning," Emeriel muttered under her breath.
King Daemonikai chuckled. "I heard that."
"Damn supernatural ears," she mumbled.
"I heard that too," he added, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Emeriel clamped her mouth shut, more startled by his laughter than anything else.
"I have prepared something for us," he announced. "Brace yourself." He signaled the horse to increase its speed.
Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his waist, holding tight as the horse surged forward.
As they galloped through the countryside, Emeriel fought to feel nothing.
Fought not to feel his strong body under her hands, his hair tickling her face, the solidness of his back against her chest. No, she noticed none of that.
The ride ended sooner than expected, but when she dismounted, she realized just how far they had traveled.
The towering peaks of Asbar Mountain stood ahead, its snow-dusted cliffs plain against the clear sky.
When had the rest of the entourage dispersed? Only Wegai remained, and even he turned his horse around to depart, leaving them alone.
"I need his horse," Emeriel requested.
King Daemonikai nodded, and Wegai obediently left the horse behind before making himself scarce.
Glancing around, her eyes narrowed as she noticed what lay ahead. He had set up… an archery range?
Targets lined the field… wooden frames holding tightly drawn circles of straw, each one marked with a painted bullseye. Bows and quivers filled with arrows rested on a makeshift stand crafted from branches.
"I come here occasionally to unwind," King Daemonikai said, walking ahead with his hands clasped behind his back.
Emeriel took in the scenery. The well-maintained fields, the swaying tall grasses, and the majestic peaks of the mountains rising in the distance.
"It's a beautiful place," she admitted.
"It is," he agreed, stopping at the makeshift table, selecting two bows.
He offered one to Emeriel. "Archery is a way for me to center myself, to relax. Focusing on a single point, blocking out the world… it's calming."
Emeriel’s eyes traced the elegant bow, noticing the royal markings etched along its length. She ran her fingers over them.
***
Grand King Daemonikai strode towards the archery stand, positioned a good distance from the target, and with ease, loosed an arrow. It flew straight, striking the bullseye dead center.
"Nice shot," Emeriel commented.
"Thanks. Hey, come over here," he beckoned her closer.
Strapping the quiver of arrows to her back, Emeriel joined him at the stand.
"Each shot is a moment to breathe, to release the burdens weighing on you," Daemonikai said in a soft tone, setting up her shot.
"Weeks of caring for me must have been difficult. I figured this would be a good way to relax. Archery can be surprisingly therapeutic."
Emeriel focused on the target, her fingers brushing the bowstring.
"It’s also a useful skill for safety and defense," he continued. "In the days of old, archers believed—"
The sudden whizz of an arrow cut him off.
Emeriel had already loosed her arrow, striking the bullseye with pinpoint accuracy.
His jaw dropped.
He stared at the target, then back at Emeriel, then back at the target.
Emeriel shrugged nonchalantly. "I learned a thing or two."
"Wow," he finally said, stunned. "That was impressive. Archery is not an easy skill to master. How did you learn to shoot like that?"
Silence met his question. Emeriel stared blankly at the target, her eyes distant, as if reliving some private memory.
"Emeriel?"
She blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Let's just say pain can be a killer… and a motivator."
Just like that, Daemonikai’s good mood soured.
After he’d sent her away, the Soulbond had been crueler than anything he’d imagined.
He’d known it would be bad, had expected suffering, but the reality was on a whole new level.
It was a hollowing hunger in his very soul.
Days had blurred into a haze of misery, with him barely functional.
Grief was swallowed by something darker—a soul-deep need that clawed at him ruthlessly .
Countless times, he had almost crossed over to the human world to get her. To bring her back. But guilt always stopped him.
How could he want another woman so desperately, when his lifetime bondmate lay beneath the ground, dead because of his failure to protect her?
How could he desire a human so fiercely?
How could he lie awake at night, not thinking of Evie, but of Emeriel? Thinking about her in his bed, wondering what the future would have felt like with her.
He had felt like the worst kind of traitor. Torn from two angles, and neither was merciful.
And when he finally stood at the great mountains, ready to cross over and bring Emeriel back, the crushing guilt had tripled tenfold, nearly suffocating him. So, he had turned back, returning to face his broken kingdom, and his even more broken self.
The Soulbond had torn him to pieces.
But if it had been that excruciating for him, Daemonikai shuddered to think how much worse it must have been for Emeriel.
She had carried the bond longer, nurtured it more deeply.
"Are you alright?" Her voice brought him back to the present. She was standing in front of him, her expression cool, but her eyes searching.
No. No, I’m not, Emeriel.
She was stronger than he’d ever given her credit for. Far stronger than her delicate frame suggested. Not just physically, but in every other way.
She had walked through fire, and it had changed her. Hardened her. It was evident in every aspect of her being–the way she moved, spoke, looked. The guarded expression in her eyes.
Will she ever forgive me? Will she ever give us a chance?
Daemonikai let the bow and arrow slip from his grasp, clattering to the ground, and in one fast move, seized her shoulders and spun her around.
Moving with lightning speed, he pressed her against the rough bark of a nearby tree.
"What are you doing!?" Emeriel gasped, startled.
"I need you to listen to me, Emeriel," Daemonikai said quietly.
"No, don't." Fire blazed in her eyes, and her fists clenched against his hold. "Do not! "
"I need to—"
"Let me go! I do not want to hear it." Desperation seeped into her voice, her tone rising… frantic. "I don’t want to hear it!"
"But I have to."
She began to struggle, fighting him with a fierceness that surprised him.
Twisting away, pushing him, snarling at him, scratching anywhere she could get her hands on.
Daemonikai hadn’t expected that physical strength. Or how angrily she fought back.
But he easily subdued her, pinning her hands to her sides, his body pressed firmly against hers, caging her in.
"Let me go," she whispered, her head tilted back against the tree trunk, resignation replacing her struggle.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, as if trying to block him out. "Just let me go."
"I'm so sorry, Emeriel," Daemonikai said, words tumbling out with raw emotion. "From the depths of my heart and the bottom of my soul, I am so sorry. I should have never sent you away. I should have handled it all better."
Only the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves answered him.
"I broke your heart, and it haunts me," he sighed, apologetic. "I regret sending you away. Words are feeble, and I’m not good with them. I wish you could look into my heart and see how I truly feel."
"I guess I should have expected that," she whispered. "I told you I never had a choice in anything, and you sought to give me one. I guess I should have seen it coming. After all, we had already agreed there was no future for us, that our bond wouldn't be allowed to flourish."
It was his turn to squeeze his eyes shut. His own words repeated back to him, driving daggers into his heart. And there was more where those came from.
"You told me plainly there was nothing left to give me," she said and he opened his eyes. "That your late bondmate owned your heart and soul as long as you drew breath. So yes, I should have expected it. I should have seen it coming."
Her tightly shut eyes relaxed and slowly opened, staring blankly somewhere beyond Daemonikai's face. "But if you were going to tear my heart out, crush it to pieces, and hand the remains over to me, the least you could have done was tell me."
Heavens . "Emeriel—"
"If you were going to plunge a knife into my chest and drag the blade down to my belly, the least you could have done was give me a warning.” Her body began to tremble, each breath a shudder that seemed to shake her to the core.
"Two long years of misery. You would think when the bond went to sleep a year ago, it would end, wouldn't you? But no, the wounds kept spreading until every part of me was raw and scabbed, Your Grace. And they never healed."
Daemonikai groaned, anguish rolling through him like a dark storm. "I am sorry. I didn’t think it through at that moment. I thought setting you free was the best decision. I was hurting, Emeriel. Overwhelmed. I never meant to hurt you this way. Please believe me."
"I do. And that’s what hurts the most, you know." Her lips trembled with a bitter, hollow smile. "Because I see the sincere intention of an aggrieved man beneath it all. A male whose world came crashing down and forced to face the world again. I understand that."
Her head hit the tree behind her, the impact making a dull thud. "I only wish it helped with the pain.”
When her head made impact again, Daemonikai winced at the sound, knowing it had to hurt.
But she did it again, and again, as if trying to numb the pain inside by inflicting one on the outside.
"Stop.” Pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, the other slipped between the tree and her skull. “Don’t do that, please.”
“The pain buried me alive and built a house over my grave,” she whispered, not missing a beat. “I lost count of how many times I wished for death. I even tried to kill myself one time. To end it all.”
Daemonikai felt sick. “Ukrae’s soul .”
“I didn’t, obviously.” She finally blinked, but the blank, faraway look remained. “However, it took losing the best part of me to crawl out of my grave. I had to lose something so precious to claw my way back through those dark tunnels."
There were no tears in her eyes, only resignation. Acceptance. And it twisted his damn heart.
Her dry eyes and detached tone struck him the hardest.
Daemonikai would have preferred tears, even anger… something that suggested there was still hope.
"Please forgive me." His forehead fell on hers as he pressed his body closer to mold into her. "Give us a chance."
"And then what? We have no future, that much is as clear as day. I would never want you to forget your family because of me, but I won’t be a replacement for them, either." Her voice was hoarse, weary, yet firm. “Plus, you don’t feel anything for me."
"I do," he countered, his ill soul aching. “I—"
"Guilt, maybe. Pity, that too. But nothing more," she conceded flatly. "You didn’t know Emeriel enough to feel more, Your Grace."
Taking in a deep breath, she added, “You needn't be burdened by those emotions, I'm a big girl now. I’m not that fragile little girl anymore. I won’t cry over you, and I won’t ask for more. I don’t want more."
She finally looked him in the eyes. “I merely wish for your soul to recover, for you to live a long, happy life, as best you can, despite everything that's happened."
“Hear me out,” Daemonikai groaned.
“I can’t do that. I don’t want to,” she said quietly as she straightened. "Now, would you please let me go? I beg of you."
He slowly released her, his hands falling limply to his sides.
Stepping back, she created a physical distance that mirrored the rift between them.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She stepped away, brushing off her clothes.
“I’m not going to give up, you know,” Daemonikai stated. “Not on you, not on us.”
She ceased dusting off her garment and gave him that look again—as if he'd sprouted a second head. Turning her back on him, she started to walk away.
“Emeriel…”
She stopped. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I can’t give it.” Another deep breath. “I just… can’t. Too little, too late, Your Grace. I have nothing left in me to give."
She walked away without a backward glance.