Page 120 of The Soulbond and Her Beloved

“Need… to… breathe…” Emeriel gasped.

“Breathe?” Lord Ottai echoed in confusion.

Lord Vladya shoved him aside. “Here.Breathe with me,” he said to her. “In. Out. Come on. Long breaths. Deep. Come on, young one. You can do this.”

Emeriel tried. She followed the cadence of his breathing. Slow, deep inhalations, holding the air in her lungs, then releasing it in steady streams. His voice was calm, so she clung to it.

“Oh!Thatkind of breathing!” Lord Ottai exclaimed, scrambling forward. “Sure! I can do that.”

He joined in. His breaths were far too fast and shallow, his rhythm completely off. It was so ridiculous, soLord Ottai, that Emeriel let out a hoarse laugh. “You are doing it wrong."

The grand lord blinked. “I am?”

“You are.” She was still smiling as she drew in another breath, and this one came easier. Her chest loosened, her lungs opening, releasing the crushing weight.

“Better?” Lord Vladya asked, concerned.

“Yes, thank you.”

He gave a terse nod, but relief softened the lines around his mouth. Together, they helped her sit up. Lord Ottai hovered awkwardly on one side, his hands ready in case she needed catching.

For a moment, Emeriel allowed herself to feel light. It was a strange thing, surrounded by two of the kingdom’s most powerful males, both fussing over her.

Often, the constant attention grated on her nerves—being crowded, coddled, treated like she might shatter. But in moments like this… She felt cared for. Protected.

Until she rememberedwhyshe had panicked in the first place. The lightness vanished.

“Please, tell me what’s going on,” she begged Lord Vladya. “Do not lie to me. I need to know.”

Chapter twenty-seven

THE BAD FEELING

LordVladyaandLordOttai exchanged glances, a silent message passing between them.

“I would rather show you,” Vladya said at last, his face stoic.

He led her from his study. They crossed through the Royal Residence and continued onward. Deeper anddeeperinto the heart of Blackstone, past the familiar halls, and into the deserted corridors few dared enter.

Emeriel was beyond confused. Her dread grew.Why are we here? What does this have to do with my beloved?

They reached a massive iron door, stretching from floor to ceiling. Vladya withdrew a heavy key from his pocket, fitting it into the enormous lock. The tumblers clanked into place with a grinding groan and the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit hall lined with thick, iron-reinforced doors.

They walked to the very end where Lord Vladya stopped. “We are here.”

She glanced around. None of this made sense. “Here? What is—”

Then she heard it.

A growl of agony. Weak, yet deeply familiar.Horrifyingly familiar.

“No, this can’t be…” She took a step back.

Vladya slid open a small, barred viewing window in the door before them. “Look.”

Blood drained from her face. She did not move.

More sounds of her Daemon’s pain reached her, killing her a little more inside. Emeriel whimpered. It was as if someone had reached into her chest, grasped her heart, and ripped it right out.

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