𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆’𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄 - CHAPTER 1

Four hours later.

The news had spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom of Urai.

Sounds of jubilant revelry ricocheted through the streets as citizens celebrated in their beast forms, engaging in playful duels and hunts to commemorate the return of their beloved ruler.

Within the fortress, however, the atmosphere was more subdued. The initial excitement had given way to a quiet vigil as the crowds in the grand king’s bedchamber thinned.

Lord Vladya had dismissed the swarm of well-wishers, leaving only himself and the royal healer to attend to Daemonikai.

Although Daemonikai’s body had fought off the worst of the poison, they had taken no chances. He had been nourished with Sinai’s blood and administered healing herbs and potions.

“A few hours of rest should dispel the remaining toxins, Your Highness,” the healer, had assured Vladya. “He will make a full recovery.”

“Thank you, Faiwick. You are dismissed.”

Left alone, Vladya gazed upon the sleeping form of Daemonikai, still marveling at the sight of him resting so peacefully in male form. It felt surreal, like a dream he feared might vanish at any moment.

He hadn’t even gotten started with the ritual, then had this happened. Even now, the sigils floated in his mind, begging to be spoken, but Vladya shoved them into the knowledges-acquired-but-would-not-be-used-anymore box.

He did not want to leave. He longed to be there by his friend’s side and converse with him once he woke. But Daemon needed rest, and Vladya had pressing matters to attend to.

With a final glance at the slumbering king, Vladya turned to leave. “Yaz, post three guards at the door. Anyone who leaves their post without proper relief will face immediate execution.”

Unlike the jubilant masses, Vladya harbored no illusions. He knew not everyone shared in the kingdom’s joy. Like Zaiper.

His ashen face, contorted in disbelief and horror when the beast transformed, flashed through Vladya’s mind.

Reflecting on it now, he would have laughed if he were still capable of such things. Zaiper had gawked at Daemonikai like he had seen a ghost. A very unpleasant ghost he never wanted to see again.

“Also, Yaz,” Vladya continued, catching the head guard’s attention.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Summon Emeriel to my chambers,” Vladya instructed, his eyes narrowing. “First thing tomorrow morning.”

•••••••••

“I’m sorry, father! I’m so sorry…!” Alvin’s anguished cry pierced the chaos, as war raged all around them.

The deafening clashes of steel.

Blood, so much blood. The marble floors have turned crimson.

Daemonikai’s sword was a whirlwind of silver as he cleaved through the next two humans who attacked him. “Myka, protect your mother!” He roared, calling out to his eldest.

He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he exploded through the Vortex Hall in a whirlwind of fury, fighting valiantly, slashing and striking down the intruders. He needed to save as many of his people as he could.

He was not supposed to have any strength at all, and what little he had was fading. Ebbing away with each desperate lunge. The Eclipse Moon was bright in the sky, sapping his energy.

Stop. It was probably time to stop.

But he couldn’t. His people needed him.

The air thickened with screams of anguish. All around him, his people lost their bondmates, their offsprings. Their wails of unbearable agony reverberated through the walls.

How could one survive such a loss? How does one live without their bondmate?

His heart broke for their loss. He cannot imagine a life without Evielyn.

“Myka, get your mother out of here! Take her to safety!” His voice boomed with urgency.

“Behind you!” Vladya’s urgent call cut through the chaos.

He whirled, sword flashing instinctively. The human soldier’s head tumbled to the floor, his lifeless eyes staring into oblivion.

Blood. So much blood.

•

Grand King Daemonikai’s eyes snapped open. The familiar sight of his chambers greeted him with an unwelcome chill. Empty. Just like his heart.

He turned his head to the left, knowing what he would find even before his eyes confirmed it. The space beside him was cold, devoid of warmth. No Evielyn.

Five hundred years, he thought, the weight of the number pressing down on him like a tombstone. Five hundred years since the Cleansing War, since he had lost her.

The grief was crushing, tightening its grip around his chest. His heart felt horrow.

With a trembling hand, he removed the damp cloth from his forehead, its coolness a mockery of the burning ache within him.

He rose from the bed, drawn to the open window. Below, Urai pulsed with celebration, the sounds muffled by the vast distance that separated him from his people.

Guilt consumed him, but he shoved it aside.

His eyes drifted upward, observing the stars that surrounded the quarter moon. A part of him still expected the door to creak open at any moment, for Alvin to come striding in to complain about his inability to sleep.

“I need Mother to sleep beside me,” Alvin would whine, his voice often interrupting a good sleep.

“Get your own bondmate, brat. She’s mine,” Daemonikai would retort.

Alvin would pout, his lower lip jutting out in childish defiance.

Evie would laugh, then lean over and press a kiss to Daemonikai’s lips, which in turn would make him frown, knowing she was about to leave their bed to settle their fully grown son, who had no sense of boundaries, back to sleep.

Alvin would $h00t him a triumphant smirk—the “I win” face of a child who had outmaneuvered his father —before following his mother out of the room.

A bittersweet smile tugged at Daemonikai’s lips. Alvin might be eight hundred years old, but sometimes, he possessed the attitude of a thirty-year-old Urekai child. And now he was gone.

They were all gone.

His fist slammed against his chest repeatedly. He hoped that if he hit hard enough, the agony and grief would stop trying to suffocate him.

But the pain refused to stop.

It only intensified. Growing, spreading like a poison through his veins.

He threw his head back and let out a roar of raw anguish.

••••••••

Emeriel bolted upright, her heart pounding as a bone-chilling roar echoed through the fortress.

Another anguished roar, filled with sheer misery, pierced the air.

King Daemonikai. It was him.

Emeriel rubbed her chest, a wave of pain washing over her, mirroring the grand king’s sorrow.

With each tormented howl, the agony intensified, leaving her gasping for breath, tears streaming down her face.

How was this possible? How could she feel his anguish as if it were her own when they were not mated? She couldn’t explain it.

And the intensity…

it was the most excruciating agony she had ever felt. A raw, visceral torment that tore at her soul.

A terrifying realization dawned on her: if this was just a fraction of his pain, how could King Daemonikai possibly bear the full weight of it?

Just hours ago, Emeriel had been awake when news of King Daemonikai’s awakening had spread like wildfire.

The sheer happiness that had coursed through her was unimaginable. Emeriel had smiled like a happy drunk as Aekeira hugged her, and she had carried that same joy to bed.

But now…

Another sorrowful roar ripped through the air, sending a fresh wave of misery through Emeriel.

“Oh, heavens,” she sobbed, clutching her chest.

Would it always be like this?

Would she always feel King Daemonikai’s sorrow?

The notion was terrifying.

*************

The door creaked open, and Grand Lord Vladya entered the chamber. Daemonikai did not turn, his back still to the room, but Vladya didn’t need him to.

He crossed the space with silent steps, taking his place beside his oldest friend at the window.

Waves of sorrow and despair radiated from Daemonikai. Grief hung heavy in the air.

How does one comfort a male who has awakened to the loss of everything he held dear?

Vladya had no answers, so he simply stood in silence.

“You shouldn’t have brought me back,” Daemonikai’s voice was a low rasp. “Why did you?”

“You had no right to leave,” Vladya stated casually, his gaze fixed on the moonlit field below.

Daemonikai whipped around, his eyes blazing. “What the hell, Vladya?”

“You had no right to leave like that!” Vladya’s voice rose, the words torn from him in a torrent of pent-up emotion. “No right to run away, to hide. What happened to ‘we are in this together’? You always told me so. What happened to ‘I will always be here’?”

Rage ignited in Daemonikai’s eyes, a green fire fueled by grief. He shoved Vladya, hard, and sent him sprawling across the room in a tangle of limbs.

“I lost my entire family, you heartless bastard! Evie, Myka, Alvin… they’re all gone.”

Vladya rose with a fluid grace. “Then deal with it! That’s what you do. You don’t run and hide, you face the goddamn pain.” His own voice shook with barely restrained fury. “I know it’s not easy. I know what it feels like. And the worst part? It does not end.

Every morning, you wake up and look for them… for a split second, before reality slams into you that they’re gone forever. You will want to drown yourself in the nearest river. You will h@?? everyone, everything. And when you smile for your people, it’ll feel like a mask. A hollow mockery. Because inside, you’re torn apart. Broken. Shattered into pieces.”

He closed the distance between them, their noses almost touching. Daemonikai was only a few inches taller. “It. Does. Not. Get. Better. There is no magical solution. Living will feel like hell. But guess what? Living is the only option we have. Especially you, Daemonikai. Our people needed you. I needed you. You had five hundred years to wallow in blankness and blissful emptiness. Now, it’s time to come back and face the wreckage. We all need you.”

Silence descended, only interrupted by Vladya’s ragged breathing.

“You brat,” Daemonikai’s features softened. “You are still the same insolent, selfish, mouthy little bastard I met nearly four thousand years ago.”

“Not a brat,” Vladya protested weakly. The familiar insult warmed him more than he cared to admit.

It had been ages since Daemonikai had used that term for him, and hearing it now sent a fresh wave of emotion surging through him. Daemonikai is back. Emotion clogged his throat, and he swallowed tightly.

“The people need me. What about what I need?” His best friend asked softly.

•

“If what you need is to die, then what you need does not matter.” Vladya crossed his arms stubbornly, his gaze returning to the fields below awash with moonlight.

Daemonikai took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Don’t worry. There’s plenty of time to figure that out.”

“What about Tiara?” Daemonikai’s voice was barely a whisper, tinged with dread.

Stillness greeted his question. Vladya remained silent for so long that Daemonikai began to doubt if he would respond.

“Zaiper lost his brother. Ottai lost his son. I lost my bondmate.” Vladya shrugged, his tone neutral. Eyes fixed on the horizon. “We all lost someone.”

Daemonikai’s heart plummeted further into the abyss of despair, growing heavier. Uriel was dead? Ottai would be shattered. That adorable boy was his only offspring in a union that was over two thousand years old.

And Tiara…

It was simply unfair to Vladya. Cruel. Twisted. That girl meant the world to him.

Vladya held the record for the highest number of failed bondings in Urai. Each failed bonding ritual was agonizing, and Vladya had experienced it so many times that Daemonikai had lost count. Watching him lose himself with every failed bonding had been utterly heartbreaking.

To finally find his compatible mate, only to lose her so tragically just a few days after a successful bonding… it was a wound that cut deeper than any blade.

“Come here,” Daemonikai’s voice was a soft command, his arms outstretched in a silent invitation.

Vladya did not budge. “I am not a child. I do not need hugs.”

“Well, I do, V.D,” Daemonikai countered, closing the distance between them. He pulled his friend into a tight embrace. “I do. Indulge me.”

Vladya stiffened in his arms, his body resisting the contact. But only for a moment. Then, the tension drained from him, and his arms tentatively returned the hug.

“If I stay, if I do not give up, then the same rules apply to you. You do not get to die, V.D. I won’t let you.” Daemonikai whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

•

Vladya remained silent, a lump forming in his throat. He did not mention the loss of his soul. Nor did he mention the creeping of feral madness, the shadows that had begun to dance at the edges of his mind.

What his friend did not know would not hurt him.

And it was so good to have him back. Relief, joy, and a fierce possessiveness surged through Vladya. He tightened his arms around Daemonikai, pulling him impossibly closer.

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” Vladya confessed in a whisper. “You have no idea what it was like, I…” He swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

“I am deeply sorry, V.D.”

Vladya sniffed, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “Only you would call me that ridiculous nickname. Stop it, you sound like a lovesick fool.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Daemonikai’s chest. “As if I ever would, Grand Lord Vladya.”

Emotion swelled in Vladya’s chest, thr_@tening to spill over. “Thank you, Grand King Daemonikai, thank you for coming back.”

.
.
.