17. COURTING MY WOMAN.
Chapter seventeen
COURTING MY WOMAN.
Along the way, he gritted his teeth as yet another well-wisher greeted him.
How was Daemonikai supposed to sneak up on his woman when everyone kept "Your Gracing" him?
He noticed the precise moment his princess became aware of his approach.
Pausing her conversation with two slaves, Emeriel's entire body went rigid.
But they were in public, and remembering her impeccable manners as Galilea, Daemonikai knew—hoped—she wouldn't cause a scene.
As he drew closer, she turned and offered him the perfect princess greeting, complete with a graceful curtsy.
"Princess Emeriel," he said warmly, taking her hand, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles.
The contact sent a pleasurable jolt through Daemonikai, and he had to force himself to let go.
"To what do I owe the magnificence that is your visit, Your Grace?" she asked, tone formal.
"I wish to spend the rest of the day with you."
She made a nervous dart of her head. "It would be unkind of me to monopolize your attention, considering your quite busy schedule, Your Grace."
Hiding his smile, Daemonikai said smoothly, "I assure you my schedule has already been cleared. I am, after all, a king recovering from one of the deadliest illnesses ever to afflict our kind." He shrugged. "My advisors insist I need more rest, and I can think of no better rest than to spend time with you."
Their exchange was attracting attention. Even the human women nearby were gushing over his words.
"Go with him, Princess," one of the women to Emeriel’s left whispered in excitement.
"Follow His Grace," another echoed from the right. "You know you want to."
Moments like this made his heightened hearing a blessing.
"Nothing would bring me greater joy, Your Grace, but… uhm… " She gestured to the array of seedlings. "I must transplant these to the garden behind the fortress. It will take quite a while, and I cannot simply—"
"We will do it," several slaves volunteered in unison. The rest of the nearby workers chorused. "Just leave it to us, Princess Emeriel."
"Leave it to them," Daemonikai echoed, extending his hand with a smile.
With a resigned sigh, Emeriel placed her smaller hand in his, allowing him to lead her away.
But the further they ventured past the crowd, into more secluded areas, the stiffer her shoulders became.
Oh, she was mad, alright.
The best course of action would probably be to talk it out. To address the issues seperating them.
But their last attempt had ended disastrously, and Daemonikai was well aware of his deficiencies. He really wasn’t good at this. Not the talking, not the wooing.
So, he would play dirty. That was his plan.
The angry princess spun around. "I do not appreciate—"
Daemonikai shifted.
Body expanding, fur erupting along limbs, claws extending. His male form melted away, beast coming forth.
He stretched his powerful limbs, enjoying the familiar sensation of raw power flowing through his muscles. It had been a while.
"Oh..." Emeriel breathed, tension melting away in an instant. The anger vanished like it was never there.
For the first time since her return, he saw her eyes lit up. A genuine, dazzling smile spread across her face.
"Hey, friend." She raised her hand, palm open, extended to him.
His assumptions were correct. Emeriel’s animosity towards him did not extend to his beast. His Beloved was partial that way. For once, fortune was on his side.
Daemonikai had seen the memories of their relationship, knew just how much she adored his second-half.
The beast was, in a way, her first love.
Raising a massive paw, he pressed it gently against her outstretched hand, and she intertwined her fingers with his claws.
"How have you been?” she whispered in a soft, affectionate tone. “It’s been so long,"
I am fine, prettiest one, thanks to you.
"I know you can hear me." Her other hand dug into his fur. "It’s okay if you don’t respond."
She shot him a stern look. "I know what you did, Your Grace. Don’t think I’m unaware."
Daemonikai chuckled, the sound emerging as a rumbling snort from his beast.
"But I can forgive this," Emeriel conceded, smiling again. "I’ve missed the beast."
We missed you too, Beloved.
Did she not realize he and the beast were one and the same?
"My good friend," she said, in such a tender voice, reaching up. "My beast."
Yours, my dearest.
Daemonikai leaned into her touch, lowering his head so she could stroke his cheek. He purred, enjoying her touch.
Sadness tugged at him. His male side couldn't get this unguarded affection from her.
But for now, he was content. The beast could reach her in ways the male couldn’t, and Daemonikai was willing to take what he could get.
He could definitely spend the rest of his day this way.
***
That night, Princess Emeriel slipped under the covers, a soft, unguarded smile still on her face. She hadn't felt this happy in ages.
Both the male and beast occupied her thoughts even long after their parting.
While the male stirred up emotions she wasn’t ready to face, the beast was different. Easier. Safer.
She could manage the beast’s affection without risking the walls she had carefully built around her heart.
Lord Herod said Urekai males were basically linked to their beasts, two halves of the same whole.
But Emeriel didn’t allow herself to dwell on that, casting reason aside, and embracing the simplicity of her beast’s company.
That day in the woods had been agonizing.
Leaving him there had been one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made, but she'd had to do it.
It was either that or succumb to the all-powerful urge to collapse into his arms. Beg him to take her back. To see beyond pity and offer her even a fraction of his love.
She had left with the last shred of her dignity intact, determined to avoid him.
But her Beloved had been persistent. And today, she had genuinely enjoyed her beast’s company.
You know who you truly wish to spend your day with is his male form, her inner self argued.
"No, I do not," Emeriel muttered firmly.
She imagined her own mind laughing at her. You long to see him laugh, to see that rare, carefree smile. You crave to be cherished by him, to hear him call you ‘beloved’ once more. You wish for his arms around you, for his embrace and his kisses.
You may deceive everyone else, but here, in the deepest recesses of your mind, you cannot lie to yourself. You are starving for him, for the man you’ve tried so hard to forget. You want to cast aside the past, fall back into his arms.
The heaviest longing Emeriel had ever known sprang within her. So intense tears stung her eyes yet again.
"No, you will not do this to yourself again, Emeriel,” she chided herself. “You must not let your guard down. If you do, just like two years ago, you will be defenseless against the pain. You cannot fall into that hole again."
Her tears dried without falling.
Oh, Emeriel… her inner self mourned. Give yourself a break.
Emeriel rolled onto her side, curling into a fetal position. The grand king is recovering well. Although the bond remains dormant, his soul is beginning to heal.
Perhaps it was time she started preparing to return home.
***
Emeriel hadn’t seen King Daemonikai for two days. It was a good thing, right? She craved solitude. To be left alone. Uninterrupted. Undisturbed.
So, why did she keep glancing over her shoulder, half-expecting him to appear?
Why did a smile touch her lips every time she recalled his last visit?
I’m pathetic, and I know it.
The grand king had been busy, occupied with matters of state. Especially after the long-awaited rain yesterday. The first in two years.
The entire city was in a festive uproar, alive with celebration. Laughter echoed in the streets, chants and songs filling the air. Urekai of all ages danced and played, their joy infectious.
Standing atop the highest tower, Emeriel looked down at them. The sight almost surreal.
Since her return and their king’s recovery, she had seen a new side of the Urekai. In the past, there had only been hatred and anger. But today, there was warmth, playfulness, even kindness.
Is this how they were before that disastrous night? Before the massacre that had swept away their loved ones and plunged them into years of suffering?
The thought was sad. Almost painful to contemplate.
According to history, the Urekai had always kept to themselves. Peaceful and kind, granting passage to travelers, aiding any species that didn’t make enemies of them.
Despite being the strongest species, they didn’t wage wars to dominate others, seize lands, or conquer kingdoms. No, that was the way of the vampires. The Urekai focused solely on protecting their own and neutralizing threats.
So why, in all that is both gracious and evil, would King Memphis think it was a good idea to betray and attack the Urekai?
Emeriel found that highly suspicious.
Yes, King Memphis had been a tyrant, but like King Orestus and every other ruler with a modicum of sense, he had been wary of the Urekai.
How could he have orchestrated such a bold and devastating attack on a species that even he feared?
And more importantly, how had he carried it out with startling success?
Emeriel had been to the great mountains. She had seen why they were considered a legendary boundary that could never be crossed.
The labyrinthine passages, ever-shifting rocks. The magical stones that appeared and disappeared at random, dry ground that could suddenly transform into crocodile-infested rivers. Paths that stretched endlessly. She had gotten lost and nearly died there.
Even if Prince Roland had learned the secrets of the great mountains and their passage rites from the grand king's youngest, how had they navigated with such accuracy and speed, arriving in Urai just in time for the massacre?
The journey from the human land to Urai took three days, while the Urekai’s night of weakness under the eclipse moon lasted only twelve hours. How had they achieved such impeccable timing without setbacks or assistance?
And what of the stolen magical relic that could have protected the Urekai, granting them strength to fight back?
Too many questions needed—
"Princess, His Majesty summons you," a guard’s voice announced behind her.
Emeriel swiveled her head, a slight frown on her face. "Which of them?"
"His Majesty the First, the mighty and supreme sovereign ruler of Urai, His Grace, Grand King Daemonikai."
"A simple 'the first ruler' would have sufficed," Emeriel huffed, even as her stomach flipped over, her heartbeat quickening.
Suddenly, she went from brooding to feeling very much alive.
Deities, I have it bad. Like, really bad.
She did a mental check for their bond. Nope, still dormant. These feelings were all her .
Emeriel was led to the grand king’s study, where her presence was formally announced.
"Come in," came the deep voice from inside.
Emeriel entered, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she braced herself before finally turning, her eyes settling on him.
Like frost over a windowpane, a shiver of awareness spread through her.
Her traitorous body reacted instantly, sending a clear message: Hey look, it’s our sexy-as-hell beloved.
Needless to say, her every nerve endings were in a state of disarray.
Her legs wanted to move toward him.
Her hand itched to reach out and touch his neatly styled black hair, to trail over the white strands.
Her lips longed to move closer to his, brushing against them in the guise of an accident.
Her tongue wished to venture inside his mouth.
And her behind shamelessly wanted to sit on those strong thighs again.
Yeah, she was pathetic like that.
Even ‘bad, bad’ didn’t begin to cover how bad she had it for this male.
"You summoned me, Your Grace." Special thanks to her voice for remaining strong in these hard times, where every other part of her quaked.
"I did," he gave her a tired smile. "How do you fare, prettiest beloved?"
No one had yet answered her question of "what alternate universe did I fall into?"
Not that Emeriel planned to stop asking until she received a reasonable answer.
"Marvelous, Your Majesty," she said coolly. "To what do I owe this summons?"
"I heard you are quite skilled with numbers." He gestured towards a stack of scrolls piled high on his desk. "I was hoping you could assist me with these. There’s so much to catch up on, and it’s expected after such a long break, but… heavens, I could use the help.”
He was asking her for help? Wanted to work with her?
Emeriel absolutely hated the way her damn heart somersaulted.
Nor did she appreciate the way her wandering eyes noted every trace of exhaustion on his striking face, every line of fatigue.
"But surely there are others who could assist you with this?" Her voice might just be her best trait yet. It amazed her how neutral it remained. "I don’t think you need me for this."
Sadness flashed in his eyes.
Not the new kind he gave whenever she turned down his offers, but the old kind. That one she had rarely seen since her return but had been his constant companion two years ago.
"My late bondmate, she used to help when the workload became too much," he admitted quietly. "Or my first son."
A small smile touched his lips. "You could never get my youngest to sit still for this sort of work."
Console him.
It took considerable effort to keep her legs rooted to the spot. They wanted so badly to close the distance between them.
Her instincts, just like her traitorous body, were her greatest enemy.
"Alvin would sit with a quill for one minute—" his gaze turned distant "—and the next, he'd be in his chambers, napping. Or chasing the nearest skirt."
Comfort him.
King Daemonikai's eyes refocused. "So, Princess Emeriel,” he said gently. “Do you think you could help me get some of this work done?"
He was letting her in.
First, he spoke of his loss—the same one he’d once told her was too painful to even speak of. Now, he was inviting her to share his burden, to work alongside him.
Emeriel’s racing heart soared . The need to soothe him clawed at her, leaving red, angry marks all over her skin.
With a deep breath, she surrendered.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up. Eating up the gap between them, pulling her to him.
She found herself standing behind his desk, and he swiveled in his chair to face her.
Emeriel spread her arms, whispering, "May I?"
"Please."
Stepping between his legs, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling his head against her bosom.
"It would be my pleasure to help, Your Grace," she murmured against him, stroking his hair with the gentlest touch.