2. A SIGHT OF MY BEAST
Chapter two
A SIGHT OF MY BEAST
Alone, Grand King Daemonikai gazed up at the sky, observing the luminous quarter moon casting an ethereal glow upon the land. He lost himself in the endless expanse above, counting the stars in a futile attempt to escape the whispers of the memories.
Yet, try as he might, he could not silence them. Images surfaced with agonizing clarity, their faces etched in his mind.
Though the scent of Evie had long since faded, it made no difference. He was certain her fragrance still clung to the garments hidden away in their closet. Daemonikai would need to change the royal residence. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her. Everywhere.
How does one begin to let go of their other half? How does one learn to live without the one who has been their constant companion for over four thousand years?
The weight of his loss pressed down upon him, suffocating him with its unbearable heaviness. Stop thinking. Shut it off.
He had not been entirely truthful with Vladya.
He remembered something, a fragment of memory that lingered. A scent. An intoxicating, alluring scent.
The details were hazy, a fleeting impression he could not quite grasp. He knew he would not recognize it if he smelled it again, but the memory of its uniqueness remained. It was not Vladya's scent either. Whose was it?
Was it merely a figment of his broken mind?
With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the window, footsteps soft as he made his way towards the bed. Yet sleep refused to come.
Hours drifted by in a restless vigil.
Daemonikai did not mind. He would rather remain awake than have nightmares assail him once more.
His people needed him. For their sake, he would find strength.
Hours had passed, yet Grand Lord Zaiper remained trapped in a numbing fog of disbelief.
He moved through the motions like a hollow shell. It was as if some invisible puppeteer pulled his strings, leaving him to stumble through the night like a marionette.
He remembered smiling, clapping alongside the others when Daemonikai had risen. He hoped his smile had appeared genuine, that it looked convincing. That no one glimpsed the misery gnawing at his soul.
As they had escorted Daemonikai from the arena to the fortress, Zaiper hoped his trembling knees and bloodshot eyes had gone unnoticed. He could not recall the last time he had felt such profound anguish, such raw pain. He clutched his chest, overwhelmed by the agony.
Daemonikai was supposed to be dead. The finale of months of meticulous plotting. That was the plan. Tonight was meant to be his night of victory.
How had he survived? How had he escaped the clutches of feral madness?
"My Lord," a hesitant voice intruded upon his torment.
"Out, Razarr," Zaiper growled, his head still lowered.
The door opened and closed with a soft click, leaving him alone with his despair.
He stared blankly ahead, his mind a maelstrom of confusion and anger. Nothing made sense anymore. Absolutely nothing. He should have struck sooner. Should have eliminated Daemonikai days ago.
Everything had been for nothing. For nothing!
Tears welled in his eyes, hot and bitter.
A strangled sob escaped his throat, the sound echoing in the empty chamber as he began to weep.
Three days later, Emeriel and a group of fellow garden slaves were transported to a new land to work. The uncultivated land was filled with a canvas of native grasses, stubborn shrubs, fertile dirt, unruly weeds, vibrant wildflowers, and sporadic trees.
The slave master's command was clear: they were to clear this wilderness and transform it into a magnificent garden.
Some were tasked with the labor of felling trees and clearing away rocks and stones, while the others were assigned other less complex duties.
Emeriel crouched low, diligently uprooting weeds. His thoughts drifted back to the events of the past few days.
He had responded to Lord Vladya's summons, as commanded, only to be informed that the grand lord had left for court. And was instructed to await another summons whenever Lord Vladya was available. Three days had passed, and still, no word had come.
Whispers through the grapevine said the grand lords were preoccupied with matters of the court, particularly in light of King Daemonikai's return. Today, an emergency meeting had been convened in the Grand High Court.
My beast.
But he would have to adjust, would he not? To think of him as King Daemonikai now, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. Calling him "my beast" aloud would be a grave mistake.
"Have you seen their grand king yet?" Erin asked Ham, another slave working beside her. Their voices were hushed, but Emeriel's ears perked up at the mention of the king.
"No," Ham shook her head, her hand deftly unearthing a stubborn weed. "But I am curious to see him. The rumors I've heard about him since I was a youngling kept me far away from his beast form when he was feral. Urekai have a wealth of legends, and for thousands of years, they've been regarded as one of the strongest species. This grand king was nearly in every tale."
"They say his bondmate tamed him," Erin's voice tinged with awe. "According to one legend, he was a cold and aloof young grand king before he found his mate. A ruthless warrior who killed without hesitation or remorse. Always eager for battle and the spoils of war. Other kingdoms trembled at his name. But the legend claims he mellowed due to his family. He became less bloodthirsty, more focused on ruling his people with wisdom and compassion."
Ham paused, her expression thoughtful. "I wonder how it must feel to lose your entire family like that," she mused, her hand still in the soil. "To have them by your side for three point five millennia, and then, in the blink of an eye, they are gone. And after enduring five centuries of madness, you must now face the world without them. I can't even begin to imagine such a loss."
Erin released a heavy sigh as she gathered the uprooted weeds into a pile and stood up. "He's relocated the royal residence. He probably couldn't bear the memories of his family there. Which doesn't bode well for us humans. He will undoubtedly take his grief and anger out on us. What if he becomes worse than Lord Zaiper?"
"Then we're as good as dead," Ham's lips twisted into a worried frown as she mimicked Erin's actions, gathering her own pile of weeds.
Emeriel's hands froze mid-motion, her heart sinking at their words.
What if they were right? What if the grand king turned out to be worse than Lord Zaiper?
He refused to believe it, but he knew the destructive power of grief and pain. They could twist the purest heart into something dark and monstrous.
It's wiser to keep his distance, right? Emeriel longed to see him, but the grand king probably didn't remember. Though it pained him like a burning blade, the truth must be faced. The grand king does not remember us, therefore it's best to avoid him.
And you know you yearn to catch a glimpse of him. You crave it.
Emeriel ruthlessly silenced his inner voice, returning to his task.
As the sun began its descent, Emeriel headed back to the fortress, the day's labor drawing to a close.
Walking through the big gate, a low murmur caught his attention, accompanied by the clatter of metal. Ahead, a crowd was forming, their faces filled with excitement.
Intrigued, Emeriel leaned toward an elderly human woman. "What's happening?"
"Their grand king has just concluded court," she explained, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Many are eager to catch a glimpse of him."
The woman moved on, leaving Emeriel to observe the Urekai gathering from afar. He shouldn't risk venturing into such a gathering, not for a mere glimpse of the king. It was far too dangerous.
Not a risk if you don't get too close, his mind whispered.
No way. Absolutely not.
Your beast. He is your beast. The same one who rescued you from the court, from the slave master, from the assassins. The same one you saved.
Before he could fully comprehend his actions, Emeriel was moving towards the crowd. He sought refuge behind a sturdy tree, his eyes scanning the assembled figures, searching for...
And then, he saw him .
Amidst the grand lords, he stood out like a bonfire.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Emeriel stared. The grand king carried himself with regal authority. His posture, his stance, his attire – every aspect of his being radiated immense power .
The grand lords were clothed in their customary long white robes, but he wore heavy black robes decorated with elaborate white embroideries. While the grand lords had their hair neatly bound at their necks, his long, raven-black mane flowed freely, captivating Emeriel's attention with its bold white streaks on either side of his head.
My beloved.
He was larger than life. The phrase had always seemed like an exaggeration, a cliché. But seeing the grand king now, he understood. He towered over even Lord Vladya, who was quite tall and imposing.
"So that is him," Emeriel murmured aloud.
A sense of tranquility washed over him. A part of him that had been restless since the announcement of Daemonikai's return, since every Urekai had flocked to the arena that night, finally found peace. Daemonikai was easily the most handsome male Emeriel had ever laid eyes on.
Urekai approached the grand king in groups of two or three, each taking the hand he offered. They pressed his hand to their noses—a gesture of respect—inhaling his scent in a ritualistic act of reassurance. It was as if the mere presence of their grand king, the confirmation of his return, was enough to soothe their anxieties and quell their fears.
"What are you doing here?"
Emeriel jumped, startled by the unexpected voice, and whirled around.
Aekeira stood behind her, her eyes following Emeriel's. "You were watching the grand king, weren't you?" A knowing smile played on her lips.
"Nope." Emeriel was flustered. "That's not it. I was just... umm..."
"Watching a gathering of Urekai, I see," Aekeira quipped, raising an eyebrow. "Must be quite a sight. A captivating display of nature, wouldn't you say?"
Emeriel wrinkled her nose. "Are you making fun of me?"
"You bet I am," Aekeira chuckled, taking his hand and leading him away. Her expression sobered as they walked. "You have to be careful, Em. This is a dangerous path you're treading."
Emeriel averted her gaze. Yes, he was aware of that. But his stubborn heart refused to listen to reason.
Aekeira stopped and turned to face him, her eyes searching. "I caught a glimpse of that male up close, and I can assure you it would be best to avoid him. He looks terrifying. Handsome, yes, but really scary . Even more so than Lord Vladya, and that's saying a lot. If I were you, I would do everything possible to stay away from him."
"Are you doing everything possible to stay away from Lord Vladya?" Emeriel asked softly.
It was Aekeira’s turn to look away. His sister didn’t have an answer for that.