Page 200 of The Soulbond and Her Beloved

Daemonikai smiled, pleased. “You really shouldn’t faint like that. It’s absolutely disrespectful.”

“Daemon... please, have mercy.” The voice was barely audible, strangled between shabby breaths and pain.

Daemonikai paused, staring down at the broken male before him. “Mercy.” He let the word roll on his tongue. “That’s one word I have never heard before. What does it mean?” He kicked the bound, mangled stump of Zaiper’s leg.

Zaiper shrieked in pure torment. “I’m sorry…” he gasped, tears leaking from swollen eyes. “I shouldn’t have done the things I did…”

“Oh no, don’t start ruining the mood now.” Daemonikai crouched again. “It’s only been a month, and you’re already giving up? I had such lovely plans for us. I want us to be like this for a long, long time.”

“Please…” Zaiper coughed, shuddering. His skin was pale, he could barely lift his head.

“You know, our people are petitioning for your death.” Daemonikai sighed in exaggerated drama, “They want you gone. Past tense, forgotten… they want you to disappear into history. I will give that to them. Eventually.” He stood upright, rolling his shoulders, stretching. “But when that time comes, Zaiper, there will be barely a flicker of life left in you.”

Zaiper let out a broken sob. “I should have never… killed your family.”

Daemonikai grasped the hammer again. “Correct.” Stepped forward and raised it again. “Now. One more time. I’m aiming for your knee this time. Where is the dark mage?”

Zaiper spilled everything about the mage like running water. Names, rituals, locations, summoning spells, traps, weaknesses, hideouts. He coughed out every secret, every layer of protection, every binding charm.

When he was done, trembling and sobbing, Daemonikai smiled in a smugly victorious way. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Zaiper cried in earnest. Full, broken bawl of sorrow, tearing from him like a dying animal’s last breath, because deep down, he knew what had just happened.

He’d given away his final card. His last shred of leverage. This wasn’t just pain, it wassurrender.

A bitter, soul-deep admission that Daemonikai had won.

Not that Daemonikai needed the validation—his victory had been sealed long ago. But watching Zaiper break… watching himacknowledge it? That was just the perfect finishing touch.

Daemonikai wiped his hands on a cloth and turned away. “My work here today is done. Get the next two ferals ready.”

“No! Please,no!” Zaiper wailed.

A guard hesitated. “Your Grace… he may die. His body’s failing, and he needs to bloodfeed. Perhaps a few days to recover?”

Daemonikai turned back, staring down at the trembling shell of what used to be an alpha.

He considered.

Then smiled. “Nah, he’ll be fine. Bring them in.”

Zaiper screamed as the guards moved, but Daemonikai didn’t look back.

The cell door closed with a final, echoing thud.

***

Six Months Later

The largest arena in the capital was filled to bursting. Every citizen of Urai, every human who had remained, every allied kingdom emissary was present. All gathered to witness a moment long awaited—the execution of Urai’s greatest traitor.

Zaiper Dragaxlov was wheeled into view in one piece. Kind of.

The soldiers had stitched him together. Limbs held with crude thread, skin rotted in places, black with infection. Flies buzzed at his face. His body stank like decay. But at least he still breathed.

His eyes were hollow, sunken deep into his skull. His once-muscular body was reduced to a crawling echo of ruin.

“Do you have any last words?”

---