37. THE WEB OF DOOM
Chapter thirty-seven
THE WEB OF DOOM
The next three days were the best in Emeriel's life. She and King Daemonikai spent nearly every moment together, and she cherished each one.
They talked about everything. Her time in the human world, her physical training, her hobbies, and childhood memories. In turn, he opened up about his own youth, even sharing pieces of his late family.
Emeriel hummed softly as she put away their dinner dishes. Warm and vibrant joy bubbled within her. Even the topics that could have been awkward or painful were touched upon—if only lightly—without tension or avoidance.
She was truly, deeply happy, about the incredible progress they had made together.
Setting aside the court, their past, and their pain, they had spent these days simply being together. The peace, the quiet, and the simplicity of the surroundings were a nice change. This cottage nestled in one of the outer villages of Urai, had become a sanctuary for them, and she loved it.
Yesterday evening, Daemonikai took her for a walk, leading her along the winding paths of the village. Locals greeted their grand king with enthusiasm and kindness, extending the same warmth to her.
When they returned home, Daemonikai pulled her into his lap by the crackling fireplace, where they talked and cuddled late into the night.
She loved having his undivided attention, watching him smile, seeing him so at ease.
But a slight worry disturbed her.
King Daemonikai hadn’t touched her intimately in days.
It wasn’t that he didn’t show affection. In fact, sometimes, he held her too close as though she were the most precious thing in the world. His hands were always greedy when it came to caressing her as they cuddled.
And occasionally, when she walked past him, he’d cup her butt or touch her breasts so unexpectedly, making her jerk. But it all ended there.
Despite the nights when his manhood poked her all through the dark hours, or the mornings when he woke with clear arousal, he hadn’t tried to take her body again.
She tried not to let it trouble her, but it did.
Emeriel missed him in that way. She wanted to feel him again. She couldn’t believe how often she thought about it.
It worried her, how much she longed to open her legs for him… to let him inside her body again. Such unladylike hunger.
Emeriel never imagined herself this way.
Just three years ago, the idea of sexual intimacy had filled her with dread. Her heart cut out of her chest and handed to her each time she had to save her sister from yet another aristocrat.
What she shared with her Beloved was nothing like the sickening, demeaning act those ministers had forced upon her sister, Emeriel knew that. What they had was different, it was special and oh so beautiful.
But still… she shouldn’t want it this bad. She shouldn’t think about it as much as she did, like some harlot in a whorehouse.
So she kept silent, suppressing her desires even as they left her in a constant state of hunger she couldn’t shake.
Thankfully, though, his nightmares hadn’t returned in days. There were moments when he stared off into the distance with a look of sorrow, but whenever he saw her, the look cleared, and his stance relaxed. Always fully present and attentive. As though nothing else in the world mattered but her.
Emeriel basked in it. Relished the feeling of being the center of his universe. She almost wished they could stay here forever, untouched by the outside world.
But she knew the reprieve was temporary. Duty called.
They would be leaving this haven in a few days.
***
After finishing in the kitchen, Emeriel went looking for him.
Their bedroom was empty, the bed undisturbed.
Stepping outside, the cool evening breeze brushed against her skin as she made her way to the archery range, one of his favorite places to spend his time, but it was silent, her Beloved nowhere in sight.
She checked the garden, spotting the gardener tending to the plants.
The gardener gave a respectful bow. “Your Highness,”
“Have you seen His Majesty?” she asked, brushing her hair away from her face as the evening breeze toyed with it.
“Yes, my princess. He went in this direction.” He pointed behind him, toward the woods.
“Thank you.” She gave him a slight nod. “You may return to your work.”
Emeriel turned toward the dense tree line. Shadows stretched long in the fading light, birdsong greeting her as she stepped under the canopy. The wind moved through the trees, rustling the leaves, sending her long hair swirling around her shoulders, her garments flowing like water.
“My King…?”
No answer.
The deeper she ventured into the forest, the more different the atmosphere felt. The hairs on her arms stood, and she stopped.
Something was watching her.
But it wasn’t fear she felt, it was something else entirely. Awareness.
My mate.
He was here. Watching her. Hunting her.
Her breath quickened, heart hammering erratically in her chest. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him.
Felt the familiar intensity of that gaze like a physical touch. She was the prey, and he was the predator.
Was it because she was Syren or his Soulbond ? An urge suddenly slammed into her.
Run.
And so, she bolted.
Emeriel’s feet barely touched the ground as she sprinted through the woods, the trees whipping past in a blur.
The wind roared in her ears, her hair streaming behind her like a banner. She ran as though the devil himself was on her heels.
A deep growl rolled through the air, sending a thrill down her spine.
She glanced around, eyes darting between the trees, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. She didn’t stop.
The memory of the last time she’d run like this surfaced. Three years ago, when assassins had chased her with the intent of ending her life and she had outrun them all.
Does my Beloved know I'm very good at this?
Smiling defiantly, she pushed herself harder, leaning into the wind. If her male wanted a hunt, she would give him one.
She felt exhilarated, laughter bubbling up as she moved with a speed and grace that came naturally to her.
Come, My Grand King. Catch me if you can.
***
“You have a visitor,” a soldier’s voice called out, resounding down the corridor.
Sinai shot up from the ground, her heart racing. Sinai moved so fast she nearly stumbled as she hurried toward the barricade. “Who is it? Who—”
Grand Lord Zaiper came into view, walking with his usual air of superiority as he approached her cell.
The excitement of seeing him was so great Sinai found herself bouncing on her feet.
“Yes! Yes! I knew you would come for me!” she exclaimed, her voice high with relief. “What took you so long? I’ve been rotting in here!”
“Is that how you greet your ruler, Mistress?” Zaiper drawled, an arrogant smile curling his lips as he stopped in front of her cell. His eyes swept over her, taking in her disheveled state. “Well, well, well. I must say, this place does not look good on you.”
“Stop with all the pleasantries, My Lord, and get me out of here,” she grumbled, her tone laced with frustration. “I miss my bed, a proper bath. This place stinks. Please, get me out of here.”
Zaiper tilted his head. “Surely you cannot be that na?ve, Sinai. You and I both know I can’t release you. Daemonikai is the one punishing you. I might have been able to intervene if it were Ottai or Vladya, but not the Grand King.”
Sinai gritted her teeth, hands curling into fists at her sides. She knew that already, but the reminder made her venom spill. “Oh yes, I forgot. You don’t have that much power. Daemonikai will always be the ultimate leader.”
The smile vanished from Zapier's, replaced by an icy fury. “How dare you.”
Damn it. She needed to tread carefully. This male was her only chance at freedom. “I apologize, My Lord. I was not thinking straight.”
“I am half-tempted to order the guards to give you thirty lashes of the whip.”
“No, please!” Sinai clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. “Forgive me, I beg you. I’ve been here for weeks—my sanity is dwindling. Please, the greatest second ruler, you must do something to get me out of here.”
Zaiper exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a sneer. “I will excuse you just this once because of your situation. But the next time you speak to me like this—” His hand shot out, grabbing her neck in an iron grip and slamming her into the cold metal bars. “—I will kill you with my bare hands.”
Pain shot through her skull, her vision swimming. She forced a strained, nervous reply from her lips. “Thank you, My Lord. Your benevolence is astounding.”
“Idiot.” He released her with a flick of his wrist as though discarding trash, dusting his hands off dramatically.
“Please, what is going on out there? Has anything been said about me in court?” Sinai sucked in a shallow breath, gingerly touching her neck as she tried to regain her composure. “Where is Daemonikai, and why hasn’t he come here?”
“Ah, ‘your Daemon’ is currently away from Ravenshadow on some lover’s bliss relaxation of sorts,” Zaiper said, his smirk returning like it was never gone. “It’s been three days now, but who is counting?”
“WHAT!?” Hot jealousy rushed through her, twisting her insides. “First of all, she is NOT his woman!”
“I’m afraid she is,” Zaiper replied smoothly, his amusement barely concealed. “Oh, I forgot to mention—it’s official now. He announced their courting and publicly claimed her. She is now recognized all over Urai not only as his woman but as his destined mate.”
Sinai expected the usual surge of anger and rage. And yes, they were there, burning very hot.
But so was something else.
Pain.
Raw, deep, intense pain. The kind that burrowed deep into the bones.
Tears filled her eyes, and Sinai didn't even try to hold them back. They streamed down her cheeks, hot and unchecked, like rivulets carving through a barren field.
"Wipe those tears." Zaiper waved a dismissive hand. "It's shameful to see such weakness from you, Sinai."
"Why does it not bother you? Shouldn't you be as miserable as I am?" She gripped the cold iron rails of her cell so hard her hands shook. "With every moment she's with my Daemon, he recovers more. Life flows back into him. She's no ordinary person—she was made for him. His . Soulbond. " Sinai spat the words.
"That means if he mates with her, their bond will be far stronger than what he had with Grand Queen Evielyn. He will be as healthy as a newborn, and you, Grand Lord Zaiper, will never overthrow him. You will be back to square zero and that grand throne will never be yours."
"That will never happen," Zaiper stated flatly. "They will never mate."
"And why is that?"
"I'm making plans to ensure it."
“Plans, plans, plans. That’s all we ever have, plans!” Bitterness dripped from her tone. “And they never age well. One of your 'nonsense plans' is what landed me in this mess!"
"No, what got you here was your incompetence. You of all people should know never to bleed on a crime scene." Zaiper snapped.
Sinai squeezed her eyes shut, counting to ten. That drop of blood was one she regretted to this day.
"What is this plan you have?" she asked instead. "When is Emeriel going to become nothing but a forgotten story? I am truly sick and tired of her."
"You have learned nothing, have you?" Zaiper shook his head in disappointment. "One would think, after all this time locked away, you'd start thinking with your brain instead of letting your emotions rule you."
Sinai lowered her eyes, furiously wiping away her tears.
"Tsk." Zaiper clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Worry not. This time, I'm planning something grand—something that will utterly destroy them."
Sinai’s curiosity was piqued. "Tell me."
"I'm not going to," Zaiper stated calmly. "You are behind bars, Sinai. No one knows what kind of mental torture 'your Daemon' might inflict upon you when he finally gives you the time of the day, and the secrets you might be tempted to reveal just to gain your freedom and stay in his good graces." His sharp gaze pierced hers, assessing her reaction.
Sinai shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. That sounded… disturbingly like something she would do.
"I would never spill our secrets," she said defensively, her voice a little too high.
"Of course you wouldn't. Because if you did, I would assassinate you in here myself,” Zaiper said in the same smooth tone one might use to discuss the weather. “I would poison you with the most excruciating poison ever made, one that would guarantee a quick but incredibly painful death."
She blanched. A chill crawled down her spine.
"I only dropped by to tell you this," he continued with an easy smile. "I know you're intelligent beneath all that rage and anger, so use your brain wisely, Sinai. You are vulnerable here. There's no place to run. Don't give me a reason to kill you."
"This is completely unnecessary," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "W-why would I accuse you of something so absurd without any clear evidence? You could easily deny it and have me sentenced to death. I'm not stupid."
"See? Smart." Zaiper stepped back. "Now that we have established that, try to be patient. You may be suffering, but take comfort in the fact that no real punishment will come your way. After all, you are not just any bloodhost, you're his bloodhost."
He continued. "Daemonikai is strong, with more self-control than most, but no one can resist the blood of a bloodhost for long. Sooner or later, he will reach his limit. Although, with what I have in mind, he would regret not drinking from you sooner."
Her ears perked up with interest. "Please tell me this plan, I'm so curious."
"Let's just say, Emeriel will be dying in her Soulbond's hands really soon," Zaiper drawled, grinning. "This plan is foolproof. No one can interfere with it."
Sinai couldn't resist a jab. "Well, except for the Oracle."
Zaiper's face paled.
"Don't even joke about something like that!" he sneered.
Sinai shivered at the implications of her own jest and lowered her head. "I apologize, My Lord."
As he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder. "As for being in here, do what you always do, pretty Sinai. Beg, manipulate, grovel. In some ways, you know that male better than any of us. Appeal to his deepest senses, and you will be free in no time."
She glared after him, her anger boiling even after he'd disappeared.
"Beg, manipulate, grovel," she mocked under her breath, twisting her face in disgust. "You're not the one rotting away in here, occasionally vomiting buckets of blood just to feel normal." Turning away, she hissed. " Bastard.”