17. BEFORE THE FIRESTORM
Chapter seventeen
BEFORE THE FIRESTORM
"Alright, alright, stay calm," Emeriel muttered to herself much later, pacing restlessly around Lord Herod's study. The ledger lay forgotten on the table.
Waves of intense discomfort washed over her, leaving her feeling hot, restless, and utterly miserable. Her clothes were suffocating her. Her skin prickled with an unbearable itch. Sweat trickled down her face and back, despite her frantic fanning.
The door creaked open, and Lord Herod entered the room, his eyes filled with concern.
"I have told the maids to prepare the cottage," he spoke in a soothing tone. "Over the past week, I have instructed them to fortify the walls in preparation for your full heat. Now, all that remains is for them to clear the space, and I shall escort you to see it." He took a step closer, his gaze searching her face. "How do you feel?"
Emeriel raked her fingers through her hair. "Very uncomfortable."
"Come, let us venture outside," Lord Herod suggested gently. "You can get some fresh air."
Emeriel hesitated. What she really wanted was to tear off her clothes and run around naked through the cool morning air, but she knew that was out of the question.
"Alright," she said reluctantly, allowing Lord Herod to lead her out of the study and towards the grand entrance.
As they passed the servants, Emeriel felt their eyes burn into her skin like hot coals. She saw the hunger in their gazes, heard the low groans escaping their lips
"Why do they look at me in such a manner?" She pressed closer to Lord Herod despite the discomfort it caused her.
"Your scent has intensified tenfold, Emeriel," Lord Herod explained with a touch of strain in his voice. "Fear not, for I will not let any harm come to you."
She noticed the change in his tone. He was also fighting to maintain his composure. Yet, even in that moment, she knew she could trust him. She nodded slowly. "Thank you, My Lord."
"Here, allow me to examine your eyes." Lord Herod leaned forward, his fingers brushing against Emeriel's skin as he gently held her chin, disregarding her slight flinch. Peering into her eyes, his gaze searched, intense. "Just as I expected," he murmured, releasing her chin. "Quite red. Your full heat is progressing steadily."
Outside, the cool air washed over Emeriel's heated skin, providing instant relief. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the refreshing breeze. "I feel a little better."
"I am glad." Lord Herod's eyes softened. "I shall dismiss the soldiers, save for the sentries."
Embarrassment tinged Emeriel's cheeks. "I apologize for the trouble," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground.
"No trouble at all." Lord Herod's voice was warm. "Remember, I had a bondmate in the past. This is merely routine. One I have missed, if I am to be honest."
Emeriel lifted her head, trying to focus on the breathtaking view of the estate, but the burning flames in her body returned, overshadowing the cool breeze.
"Where shall the soldiers be sent?" she asked, desperate to distract herself from the escalating discomfort. "Once they are released from duty, that is?"
Lord Herod's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Ah, that is when the female soldiers come in."
Emeriel's head snapped to him. "Urekai have female soldiers?" She couldn't recall seeing any female soldiers since she had arrived in Urai.
"Indeed," Lord Herod chuckled. "Mostly, it's just the males, but we have female soldiers trained to protect and guard in situations like this." A hint of pride tinged his voice. "The Lord of Military Affairs has it taken care of. We hire their services, and in exchange, they come to work here for the duration they are needed while our male soldiers take care of whatever assignments the female soldiers were working on before their services were required. It's more like an exchange of sorts."
"Really?" Emeriel's eyes lit up with fascination. "That is remarkable. I often wondered how households safeguard themselves when a female is in heat, if they have to let go of the male workers and soldiers."
"As Urekai, we leave nothing to chance.” Lord Herod declared. "We do not trifle with security. King Daemonikai ensured that. That is the foundation of our dominance among the species. We are eternally vigilant, perpetually prepared. There is always a solution." A fleeting shadow darkened his eyes. “Except during the Eclipse Moon. Then, we are all at its mercy."
The tense silence lingered until it was disrupted by the hurried approach of a maid. Gasping for breath, she bowed before Lord Herod. "My Lord, the cottage is prepared."
Lord Herod turned to Emeriel and urged gently. "Come, let us inspect it."
Moments later, Emeriel stood in a quaint room, its walls adorned with soothing patterns and soft fabrics. Dominated by a vast, inviting bed draped in cool linens.
Yet, Emeriel could barely focus on her surroundings. Her breaths came in short, desperate gasps. The fine fabric of her chest-bind felt like molten lava against her skin, every fiber a source of unbearable irritation.
"Ukrae," Lord Herod's nostrils flared. “Your scent... This is going to be far more difficult than I expected. Give me a moment, I must see to the soldiers.”
Abruptly, he left.
Time grew short as Lord Herod scrambled to prepare.
He dispatched his male soldiers and urgently requested female guards from Lord Jakal. He ordered enough supplies to last three days and held an emergency meeting with his steward, bailiffs, and head farmers.
He informed them of his impending absence, delegated responsibilities, and provided detailed instructions to ensure the smooth operation of work and his estate while he was unavailable.
It had taken longer than usual, and by the time he returned to the cottage in the early afternoon, a sliver of worry crept into his mind. Would Emeriel still be there?
Females in full heat tended to run away. So crazed with need, driven by instincts to flee, in search of a male to sate them.
Relief flooded him as he entered the cottage and found her still pacing the room, a whirlwind of restless energy. But the moment he crossed the threshold, her scent hit him like a storm.
Bloody hell, it has gotten even stronger. Choking. Intoxicating.
Females in full heat smelled amazing, and Emeriel was no different. Herod had never seen her as anything more than his young friend, which is why he had struggled with the idea of helping her through her heat.
But the potent scent pouring from her stirred a hunger in him. A deep, raw lust.
He swallowed hard, pushing down the rising tide of desire.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears.
"Can't ex-explain it," Emeriel stammered, her words punctuated by ragged breaths. She resumed her frantic pacing, her fingers raking at her arms, leaving angry red marks in their wake.
"These clothes burn." With a cry of frustration, she tore at her tunic and trousers. Her fingers, fumbling, frantic, and uncoordinated, struggled against the fabric.
Herod watched helplessly, unsure what to do. She then attacked her chest bindings, but the material proved resistant.
A cry of distress escaped her lips. "I need them gone!"
Herod rushed to her aid, unable to bear her anguish any longer. Together, they tore at the bindings, ripping the fabric to shreds until she was finally free. Emeriel shed the last vestiges of her clothing until she stood before him, completely naked.
Herod nearly swallowed his tongue.
Emeriel had always been exquisite, but stripped bare, she was a vision of rare, untamed beauty. Her porcelain skin was drenched with sweat, and her cheeks flushed with feverish hotness.
Her eyes, normally so sharp and intelligent, were now clouded with arousal. The soft curve of her breasts was alluring, and the delicate blush of her nipples was taut with desire. Her hips were soft and inviting, accentuated by the sun's warm rays peeking through the curtains.
She was breathtaking.
Emeriel has the kind of beauty that made her stand out in a crowd. She had been the first to catch his eye while surveying the slaves on that fateful day, but he had tried to ignore her, dismissing her as a male.
But something about her had seemed amiss, just as it had with Vera. In the end, he had given in to his curiosity, a decision he had never regretted.
Emeriel was a brilliant and quick-witted friend, a beacon of light in the darkness that had engulfed him after the loss of his bondmate. She helped him in ways he could have never imagined. Filled his life with laughter and purpose, becoming an indispensable part of it.
Emeriel climbed onto the bed, curling into a fetal position against the headboard. Her body trembling as she rocked back and forth.
He liked the girl, and the sight of her now, so consumed by her heat, twisted a knife in his heart.
"It will get worse, won't it?" she croaked.
Herod couldn't lie to her. "Yes," his voice heavy with regret. Herod couldn't lie to her. "Much worse. This is just the beginning, dear one. The full force of your heat is yet to come."
Fear flickered in her beautiful blue eyes, a familiar expression whenever the topic of her heat arose.
It pained him to see her so afraid. Hurt him to know her unique circumstances made this experience all the more terrifying for her. And she had every reason to be.
A soft knock at the door broke the tense silence. "Water is here, My Lord," a maid announced from outside.
Herod opened the door, accepting the water pots and wooden cup from the female servant. He placed them on a table in the corner of the room.
"You need to be at full strength for the next three days. You mustn't become dehydrated.”
He filled the cup with cool water and climbed onto the bed, holding it to her lips. Emeriel gulped it down eagerly, her hands clutching her knees.
"You will help me with my heat, won't you?" she asked, hoarsely. "You said you would think about it."
Herod had said that. His hand hovered over her knee, watching as she flinched away.
Yet, her eyes remained locked on his, pleading for a solution to her torment.
"When the time comes, your body won't want my touch, little one. I am not the one you desire."
"B-but you said it didn't matter," she spluttered, her voice thick with tears. "You said—"
"It doesn't, not when the heat fully takes hold. But I cannot, in good conscience, take you that way, knowing your heart and soul belong to another. Watching you jerk away from my touch while begging for his, hearing you cry out his name as I take your body..." He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch featherlight. "My alpha beast would not tolerate that rejection, Emeriel, and might hurt you. I care for you too much. I cannot bear to hurt you like that."
Emeriel swallowed. Her eyes now a vibrant crimson, reflected the growing intensity of her heat. "I don't know what to do. If it's already like this... I can't even begin to imagine what it will feel like when it fully hits."
Her voice trembled. "I am scared, Lord Herod. Terrified I won't be able to handle it."
Herod's heart ached for her and he reached out, his calloused hand hovering just above her arm, hesitant to touch her overheated skin.
"I won't let you get hurt. Trust me on that," he vowed, his gaze hardening with determination. "I will send for the grand king if I have to."
Emeriel's eyes widened in alarm. "No!" she cried, her voice rising in pitch. "He cannot find out! I would rather ride the waves alone!"
"I'm not saying it's my first choice, little one," Herod assured her, his expression softening. "But I will not let you suffer. Because of your scent, I won't be here when your heat begins, but I will always be near."
He reached out again, this time gently cupping her chin, ignoring her flinch yet again. "I'll make sure you're safe, no matter what it takes."
In the crowded court, Grand King Daemonikai recounted the ancient war against vampires to his rapt young audience, ranging from age thirty to two hundred.
Alvin had eagerly joined these gatherings.
Daemonikai's throat tightened. His eight-hundred-year-old son had delighted in these storytelling sessions despite the age restriction. Alvin had insisted on attending, much to the delight of the younger children who adored his company.
"As twilight fell," Daemonikai forced himself to continue, "the young grand king breached the vampire king's barrier, leading his soldiers into their hidden den. With swords raised high, they battled the vampires. Finally, Amphias the Conqueror, faced the young Urekai king, Daemonikai the Cruel. Amphias, confident in his power, sought to conquer Urai. Their brutal, bloody battle shook the earth."
Daemonikai paused, letting his words sink in. "In the final moment, Amphias sank his fangs into the Urekai king's neck, but Daemonikai unleashed his beast form. And with a decisive strike, he pierced Amphias's heart, ripped it out, and devoured it."
Gasps and cheers erupted. A barrage of questions followed, and he answered them, unable to hide his smile at their wide-eyed admiration.
"How did you survive eating the heart of an ancient vampire, Your Grace?" young Erasis asked in awe.
Daemonikai chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I am far too old, dear Erasis. Some poisons simply have no effect on me anymore.”
Besides age, his body has developed a resistance to many things that would fell a lesser Urekai.
Smiling he answered all their questions.
Once done he emerged from the court, his head guard awaiting him. He had shared many battles with Wegai over the centuries, bearing scars of countless wars they had fought side by side.
He had retired following Daemonikai's descent into madness, but Daemonikai had reinstated him and all his most trusted soldiers upon his return. Wegai’s loyalty was unwavering, his dedication absolute.
"Grand Lord Vladya is not in Blackstone, Your Grace," Wegai reported, his voice grave.
Daemonikai's brow furrowed. "Are you certain?"
"Positive, Your Grace. I spoke with his head soldier."
Vladya's recent behavior had been...odd. He'd been leaving the fortress frequently, his attention wandering during conversations, sometimes forgetting their discussions altogether. Something was amiss. But what?
And where did he vanish to when he left Blackstone?
Lost in thought, Daemonikai rounded a corner and came face to face with Ottai.
"Your Grace," Ottai greeted with a warm smile and a respectful bow.
"Lord Ottai," Daemonikai acknowledged, returning the gesture. They fell into step, exchanging pleasantries as they walked towards the Southern Wing.
"Have you seen Vladya?" Daemonikai asked, unable to shake the nagging worry.
"Not since this morning, no." Ottai’s smile faded slightly. "Is something the matter?"
"He's been acting strange lately. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something is wrong."
Ottai averted his eyes. “Nothing I'm aware of, Your Grace."
Daemonikai's eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into Ottai. Ottai was closer to Vladya than Zaiper, and if something was truly wrong, Ottai would know.
"Are you certain?" he pressed.
A tense silence stretched between them. Ottai shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from Daemonikai's penetrating gaze.
"I'm sure that if anything were wrong, Vladya would tell you," Ottai said at last, his voice carefully measured.
Ottai, the most honest and forthright of the grand rulers, was evading his questions. Worse, he was lying.
Daemonikai paused. If the situation was dire enough to make Ottai lie, then it was far more serious than he had initially suspected.
He would get his answers, and he would get them from Vladya himself.
By nightfall, Emeriel bolted upright, ripped from a fitful, tormented sleep.
Emeriel was thirsty, her throat burning like a parched desert. So horny she was dripping like a faucet, the moisture soaking into the sheets beneath her.
Emeriel lurched towards the water pot, her movements clumsy and disjointed.
But an invisible force slammed into her, knocking the breath from her lungs.
Thousands of knives carved their way through her, searing her flesh, shredding her organs, and leaving behind trails of molten agony. The pain was unlike anything Emeriel had ever experienced.
A scream tore from her throat. Raw, pain-filled, and animalistic, echoing through the silent cottage.
Her vision blurred, the room spinning as she collapsed onto the floor. If the previous waves of heat had been storms, this was a hurricane .
Emeriel rocked back and forth, clutching at her burning flesh as though she could somehow extinguish the inferno raging within. Somehow extinguish the volcano erupting in her core, its molten lava burning her womanhood, consuming her entire being from the inside out.
She let out another scream. And another.
Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat pouring from her pores. She clawed at the floor, her nails digging into the rough wood in a futile attempt to get away from the pain.
"Oh my God!" She screamed.
This was different. Nothing like she had felt before. It was a monstrous, all-consuming pain that shattered her very being.
This was her end.
There's no way I will survive this.