Page 92 of The Soulbond and Her Beloved

"Thought of it. Could be an explanation, dark magic is potent." He adjusted his hold on her as she swayed. "I have searched through every known magical text of our people, and not one of them speaks of a spell capable of inducing mindlessness in another. On oneself, yes, but not externally."

She hummed, voice growing heavier. "So… if it were dark magic, it would not be Urekai magic...?"

"No." he glanced up at her, expression dark. "It would have required a hefty ritual, perhaps even a blood sacrifice. A dark mage."

Emeriel’s eyes fluttered as she nodded sluggishly.

"I have already sent word to the mage king. It will take time to get a response, but I must know his thoughts on this."

"A wise decision. We… uhmm… we must know…" Her thoughts were drifting now, her body going boneless against him.

Daemonikai caught her as she collapsed, scooping her effortlessly into his thigh.

She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, nuzzling her face into his neck. "Oh… I feel weird."

"You are blood-drunk." He huffed, amused despite himself. "It is alright. I have you."

"My Beloved," she whispered dreamily. "My amazing, powerful Beloved."

Daemonikai only stared at that beautiful face.

She clung to him, voice growing hazier, but words stayed achingly clear. "I wish I could take away some of your burdens. I will bury them somewhere far from the face of the earth… Or bear them as my own."

She still thought this way? Even after everything?

That part of him that died just some moments ago shuddered awake andtook its first breath.

"I wish you could see my heart…" A soft exhale. Her head lolling slightly.

His own soul burned. His mind rebelled against her words, against the comfort they brought. He did not deserve this. He did not deserveher.

She should not have to soothehim. She should not have to reassurehim. He was the one who harmed her. This burden—what he had done—was his to carry.

Perhaps in five hundred years, when he had spent every moment making it up to her, then he could allow himself to believe in the absolution she so freely gave. But not now. Not yet.

She fell asleep. Pliant, trusting, clinging to him as if he weresafe.

He traced her delicate features, memorizing every inch of her. Who knows when she would come to her senses and finally make the right decision to leave the monster?

But until that dreadful day, he would hold this radiant star as his own. Until the day his darkness became too strong for her light, he would hold on tight—like the drowning man he was, like the lifeline she had become.

"I hope that one day, I—Daemonikai Vipertheriov Naelzharoth—will deserve your love," he stated, brushing his lips lightly against her hair. "Truly… blessed is the womb that birthed a female such as you."

***

"I can fetch my own lantern." Aekeira tried one last time, but her sister ignored her.

She sat patiently in Emeriel’s bedchamber, watching as the final touches were made to her sister's attire. Before the mirror, Emeriel stood in a breathtaking ceremonial red gown, the elaborate embroidery catching the light like tiny stars woven into silk.

She looked breathtaking. Poised and elegant as ever.

Tonight was the Lantern Festival. Their second.

The first they had celebrated as slaves in plain clothes, hands raw from endless labor. But today, they attended as princesses.

Dressed in gowns made by the finest seamstresses in Urai, commissioned by their males, they were a world away from that skittish girl and her brave little brother. Outside the chamber, their soldiers and maids stood waiting, ready to escort them to the arena.

Emeriel turned slowly, smoothing the delicate folds of her dress. "There will be plenty of smoke at the festival. It is not good for you or the baby."

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