BEAST'S SLAVE - CHAPTER 46
Mistress Sinai paced her gilded cage, a whirlwind of fury barely contained within the lavish confines of her chambers.
Two days of forced solitude felt like an eternity, each moment a fresh torment in her soul’s descent into madness. At this rate, she was truly going to go insane!
Home confinement was a living hell, a cruel mockery of her former freedoms. She abhorred it with every fiber of her being.
To be denied her whims was unbearable enough, but to become the butt of every whispered joke, every pitying glance from the other mistresses in Ravenshadow’s royal estate… it was the ultimate humiliation.
Yesterday, Mistress Gaille had come to “check on her,” her syrupy concern a thinly veiled insult. Sinai could practically see the woman’s barely suppressed laughter behind those false smiles.
All this because of a human. A mere boy.
Vladya had moved heaven and earth to protect the worthless creature from her wrath, even thr_@tening to cast her into the Hole.
The Hole! The mere thought sent a fresh wave of betrayal and anger through her veins, hot and acidic.
Had Emeriel been a girl, Sinai might have entertained the possibility that he was Daemon’s Soulbond. But fate was not that cruel, was it?
It had played a different hand; the little thing was a boy. Thank Ukrae for small mercies.
All day, she had been forced to languish here, pacing the extravagant prison of her chamber, staring at her own reflection until it blurred with rage.
Her once-spacious room felt suffocating, the air thick with her frustration. Boredom gnawed at her, a relentless beast clawing at the edges of her sanity.
“Emeriel will pay,” she hissed, her words venom dripping onto the pristine mirror. “He. Will. Pay.”
Desperate for a distraction, she sank into a plush armchair. “Nora?” she called, her voice sharp as a whip.
The maid scurried forward, her head bowed. “Yes, Mistress?”
“What’s the gossip out there? Are people still buzzing about Emeriel and his little miracle?”
Nora’s eyes lit up with a morbid glee. “Yes, Madam! King Daemonikai must hold the boy in great favor. Why else would one be in the territory of a feral for three days without being torn apart? Oh, the boy must be truly special.”
Sinai’s lips twisted in disgust. She shot the girl a disapproving glare.
The girl, oblivious to her mistress’s displeasure, continued, “I crave more wonders like that. Half the town is still talking about it. Even Grand Lord Vladya was so impressed that he—”
“Spare me the details. I already know what he did,” Sinai interrupted, her voice laced with acid.
“—moved the human prince to Blackstone.” Nora finished.
Sinai’s eyes widened, disbelief warring with fury. “Wait, what!?”
Nora’s face paled. She clamped her mouth shut, clearly regretting her loose tongue.
Sinai surged to her feet, her eyes blazing. “Tell me,” she demanded, her voice dangerously low. “Now.”
Nora fumbled nervously. “Grand Lord Vladya moved Emeriel to B-Blackstone.” she stammered, “He’s been tending the estate’s gardens for days now. Has his own chamber and everything.”
Sinai’s vision swam, red with rage and the sting of betrayal.
“And, um… last night, his sister was also relocated to Blackstone. She has her own chamber there too.”
“That conniving little—” Sinai grabbed a crystal lamp from the dressing table and hurled it at the mirror, the shattering sound a symphony of her fury. “How dare he! How dare he, how dare he!”
Nora cowered, all too familiar with the destructive wrath of her mistress. She prayed Mistress Sinai’s anger would not turn on her .
••••••••••••••••
Emeriel thrashed restlessly through the night, sleep refusing to take hold. Finally, he gave up, sitting upright with a weary sigh. His nightclothes hung loose, his normally bound chest free, his hair unbound.
But freedom was fleeting. With a resigned sigh, Emeriel re-bound his chest and secured his hair before slipping from his chamber.
He padded silently to the next room, the door creaking softly as he opened it. Aekeira slept soundly beneath the covers, her face relaxed and peaceful.
A small smile touched Emeriel’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, watching her breathe. It had been a long day, filled with the chaos of relocating Aekeira and preparing her new room.
But for now, Aekeira was safe, and that was all that mattered.
He wouldn’t dwell on the future, wouldn’t torment himself with what tomorrow might bring. The present moment was all that mattered—him and Aekeira, finally with chambers close to each other, and that was enough.
Closing the door gently, Emeriel turned away from the room. A different destination called to him.
He wouldn’t pretend this was just a midnight stroll. A yearning he couldn’t ignore was drawing him to the forbidden chambers. Tugging him towards King Daemonikai. To be near him. To feel his presence.
The fortress was sprawling, the largest he’d ever known, yet the familiar path felt short, as he had grown accustomed to it. Guards stepped aside without a word, allowing him passage.
He pushed open the small gate and door, entering the dimly lit chamber. Moonlight spilled in through the corner window, the one Emeriel had opened on his last visit, casting long shadows across the floor.
Outside the barricade, the beast lay sound asleep, its massive form a dark silhouette against the pale moonlight. Emeriel approached, sinking down beside the creature. Its eyes snapped open, a flash of piercing yellow in the darkness.
Emeriel held perfectly still, quelling the instinctive fear that rose within him. He knew, deep in his soul, that the beast wouldn’t harm him.
Its nostrils flared, drinking in his scent. Followed by a low, rumbling purr of contentment. Gradually, its eyelids drooped shut in relaxed bliss.
A flutter of warmth bloomed in Emeriel’s chest. Butterflies danced in his belly. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Hello,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
The beast rumbled softly in response, a massive paw lifting to gently graze Emeriel’s cheek.
The touch was featherlight, as if the creature understood that pressing any harder would break the skin.
“I never properly thanked you, did I?” Emeriel’s voice was soft, laced with a touch of wonder. “I’m sorry for that, your Majesty. Thank you for saving me from the court. I’d likely be dead if not for you. Your court is… formidable. All those grand lords are a force to be reckoned with.”
A low groan rumbled from the beast, its eyes slowly opening and closing. It seemed to savor the sound of Emeriel’s voice, the melodic cadence soothing its restless spirit.
“I’ve lived my whole life as a boy,” Emeriel continued, his words a quiet confession. “But the longing to be a girl… it burns inside me. It’s impossible, though. Never was, never will be. I don’t even know if I’d know how to be one anymore.” He sighed, a wistful sound.
Propping his head on his hand, he continued, “It started with my parents, trying to protect me in a way they couldn’t protect my older sister. It was easier to stay safe in the human kingdom.”
“As a prince, some lords looked at me strangely, but none dared act on it. But here…” His voice trailed off, lost in the depths of the beast’s golden eyes.
“It’s harder here. I suppose, in a way, serving you has made it easier. Slave masters are careful not to cross me, for fear of Lord Vladya’s wrath. And after what happened in court… they do not look at me the same way anymore.”
Exhaustion crept over Emeriel. He shifted closer, tucking himself into the crook of the beast’s arm. Massive limbs curled around him, drawing him close, and the beast rumbled with pleasure.
Emeriel wondered if he was losing his mind. He must be, for there was no other rational explanation to why he would feel so comforted in the arms of a deadly predator. So safe.
The tension seeped from his body, and sleep claimed him.
•••••••••••••••
Hours ago, when Amie arrived for her shift, a wave of relief washed over her at the sight of Slave Master Gaine alone behind the tavern bar, Master Boris notably absent.
The feeling lingered, a comforting warmth against the chill of the night as she finished her work and stepped out into the darkness.
Eager to return to the fortress, she took the shorter route through the barn. But her steps faltered as a bloodcurdling scream pierced the silence.
More screams, more pleas.
The slave, whoever it was, was begging a master for mercy. She recognized the masculine voice.
Master Boris.
Hell, hell, hell. Amie’s pace quickened, panic constricting her throat. She’d managed to avoid him all week – why had she chosen the shortcut tonight?
A brutal yank on her hair sent a jolt of pain through her scalp. “Ah, there you are, my little sneak,” Boris’s voice rasped in her ear, hot with malice. “Sneaky, sneaky, Amie.”
She winced. “M-Master Boris…”
“You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Never, Master,” she choked out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.
“Oh, really?” He yanked her hair again, harder this time. “Do you think me a fool? How dare you lie to me? Where is the little prince, Amie? You were supposed to bring him to me.”
“He doesn’t work at the tavern anymore, Master Boris. Surely you’ve heard about the court incident? The grand lords have taken an interest in Emeriel. They have their eyes on him. It is dangerous to pursue your desires for him.”
“I care not for what happened in court.” he snarled, his fingers left her hair to tighten around her throat. “How dare you lecture me? You do not want to anger me, do you?”
Fear choked her. “No, Master,” she gasped, fighting for air.
“Good.” His grip loosened. “Two nights from now, the barn, sixth hour past noon. Bring the boy. Do you understand?”
“But—“
“I don’t care how you do it. But if I don’t see him there, I’ll gut you like a fish and bury your corpse where no one will find it.” His voice was low and menacing, promising unimaginable pain. “Understood?”
Despair washed over Amie. She had no choice. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I will bring Emeriel.”
.
.
.