Page 163 of The Soulbond and Her Beloved

He nodded once.

“That’s… gods, that’s excellent news,” she said, suddenly invigorated. “We’ll know everything. Their movements, their weaknesses. This will change everything.”

“Yes. A hidden weapon,” Zaiper stated. “She’ll feed me everything I need to track Emeriel. And when the time is right, I’ll strike.”

“Let’s not waste this opportunity. We should wait, recover, and plan properly,” Sinai pleaded. “Please, Zaiper. You’re acting on anger. You’re not thinking this through.”

Zaiper moved without warning, seizing her by the throat, lifting her off her feet. He hurled her away.

Sinai shrieked as she flew through the air, her back striking a tree with a bone-jarring thud. Pain exploded down her spine, and for a moment, her lungs seized.

“Stay out of my way whore.” His eyes burned gray and yellow, his voice deeper. “If I ever want your opinion, I’ll come find you. Until then, don’t stick your mouth where it’s not needed.”

Coughing, gasping, Sinai pushed herself up, blood on her lips. “Emeriel does thatSoulbondthing where she calls Daemonikai with her mind whenever she’s in danger! You’ve seen it happen.You knowwhat she can do! How do you plan to bypass that!?” she screamed, coughing blood. “If you go through with this, you’ll be leading the rest of your soldiers to their deaths!”

Zaiper’s anger burned. “I have reason to believe something wrong with their bond. That night he went berserk, I was there. There was no recognition in his eyes, no awareness, only raw instinct. The night you shot her with your arrow… she didn’t call to him then, did she?”

Sinai’s breathing slowed.No, she hadn’t.The realization landed hard.

“Something is broken between them, and I’m counting on it,” Zaiper growled. “Iwilltake Emeriel. And Daemonikai will pay for what he’s done.”

Chapter thirty-eight

MY FAILING VISION

“Iseenothingwrongwith your eyes, Princess.”

Emeriel stared at the eye healer, shaking her head slowly. “No, you don’t understand. I see colors. And they’re even more vivid now. Eyes in proper condition shouldn’t see colors, Healer.”

The Urekai woman packing her materials, paused. She turned to face Emeriel fully, expression unreadable. “Tell me more about these colors you see.”

“There’s not much to tell. I can’t name the colors; they’re not ones I recognize, and they’re not always there. They come and go. Sometimes I see them when I’m looking at someone. I—” She exhaled, frustration bleeding into her voice. “I don’t know how to put it into words.”

The healer folded her arms thoughtfully. “My opinion? It may be connected to your pregnancy. Everyone experiences it differently. This may be your body’s unique reaction. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Emeriel almost told her that Aekeira, who was also with child, hadn’t mentioned any such symptoms. But then again,her belly was already larger than Aekeira’s, despite them having conceived the same night. Perhaps the healer was right. No two pregnancies were ever truly the same, and symptoms vary wildly, even between sisters.

Still, doubt lingered.Could this truly be some strange symptom of pregnancy?

The question stayed with her as she stepped out of the healer’s dwelling, making her way toward the main fortress. She still found herself surprised by how vast Ravenshadow truly was—new corridors and hidden lanes seemed to reveal themselves each day, each one filled with lives and lifestyles so different from what she had known.

Back in Frostfall, she approached the Royal Residence when a soldier intercepted her path with a crisp bow.

“A letter has arrived addressed to the Grand King.”

“I’ll take it. Thank you,” Emeriel replied, accepting the parchment.

She carried it directly into Daemonikai’s study, intending to leave it on his desk. But as she leaned to place it down, the parchment slipped from her fingers, unfurling as it struck the floor.

Bending to retrieve it, her eyes caught a few lines of its contents—and paused.

From Herodis?

Heart quickening, she stood and carefully unfolded the letter for a proper read.

You were right, Your Grace. It is never too late to follow a new path, never too late to change our course.

For so long, I have denounced the name Dragaxlov, forgetting that a name itself is neither ugly nor honorable—it is the people who shape its meaning. Only they can stain it, and only they can restore its glory.

---