Page 49 of The Soulbond and Her Beloved

Vladya scoffed. "Let me guess, you have just said something you should not have—wait." His face changed when the words hit home. "Our females? Going into heat?"

The Oracle straightened, wiping the blood from her mouth. "I have already begun, I may as well finish. Yes, the princesses have entered the peak of their cycles. Now, more than ever, they need their males with them."

Daemonikai's mouth was agape as he stared at her blankly.

But Vladya could not help wearing a deep scowl. "Wait, Oracle. There seems to be a misunderstanding. Aekeira cannot go into—"

"She can. And she has," the Oracle interrupted impatiently. "I told you to watch for the signs, did I not? Your woman has always been a Syren, compatible with you. Why do you think your connection with her has always run so deep, even in the beginning, when you believed you hated her?” She wiped the blood from her chin. “Why did you feel those urges whenever you were intimate with her—to unleash on her, release in the womb? Why did her blood call to you? Why do the voices in your head always go silent when she is near? Why do your feral episodes now come fewer and farther between?”

Her words struck Vladya like a hammer against an anvil.

"You have been with yourSoulbondall along, Grand Lord Vladya.” The Oracle coughed blood again. "The first ritual was successful. And because her traits were long overdue to manifest, the slightest nudge at the place where your soul should be shot her straight into a full heat."

Vladya heard every word, but they collided with a wall in his head.

Syren?

Soulbond?

His knees went weak, nearly collapsing to the ground.

Daemonikai was suddenly there, steadying him with a firm grip.

Vladya turned his bewildered gaze to his friend, searching for reassurance. He found a slow, genuine smile on that face.

So Daemonikai had heard it too. The words were truly spoken.

Not conjured from countless dreams.

Not a hope he had dared not voice aloud.

"Congratulations, old friend," Daemonikai’s deep voice was hoarse with emotion. "I am so happy for you."

"She is saying Aekeira is my…" Vladya’s throat went dry as sand, but he forced his throat to keep going. "The Oracle is saying Aekeira is my… Do you think it is the truth?"

"The Oracle does not lie, V.D.," Daemonikai said softly, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"And you may not have noticed, but I am currently coughing up a rather concerning amount of blood," the Old Lady rasped, struggling through another violent fit.

Something warm traced down Vladya’s cheek.

He wiped at it absently, then stared at his damp fingers. A tear.

I have a Soulbond.

Then, Daemonikai was grasping his face between firm hands, forcing Vladya to meet his gaze. "Vladya, this is truly greatnews—look at me." His voice was steady, urgent. "I know it is overwhelming, but you must listen to her right now. This is not the time for shock, not the time to fall into a daze. She said they are inheat."

Vladya nodded, numb.

"Do you understand what that means?" Daemonikai pressed. "They are suffering without us. We are high in the mountains, thousands of miles away, and we need to be thinking about how to get to them. Our women are in heat, and we are not there to ease their pain, Vladya Theriozydovkar Skyvakto."

And it finally struck with the force of an earthquake.

Ice flooded Vladya’s veins. "Th-They need us. What in the ruins are we doing here…!?" He was already shifting, his muscles rippling.

"Wait."

The Oracle’s command stopped him mid-transformation.

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