Chapter 151

A blush spread across her face as he spewed more crude, blatant words. His eyes held the stark truth: he truly desired to do those things to her. For the first time, real fear prickled Ackeira's skin; dread bloomed in her chest. The things he spoke of were downright terrifying.

Aekeira had never embraced pain, never sought it out. He was right; she should run as fast and far as she could. Run, Aekeira. Run and never look back!

“Those instincts are dormant for now, are they not?” she heard herself ask. “When they awaken, I will flee, my Lord. But that day is not today.”

His brows furrowed, clearly questioning her sanity.

“King Daemonikai… His feral madness…it wasn’t like this, was it?” Aekeira asked tentatively.

Lord Vladya shook his head. “For Daemonikai, there was no warning, no gradual descent. He had a fulfilling martial bond, a loving mate, children…an heir to his throne. The sudden loss of everything, and the manner in which it was taken, shattered his mind.” He sighed. “He also exhausted himself protecting his people that night, pushing his beast beyond its limits under an eclipse moon. There was no strength left to heal, no energy to resist the encroaching darkness. The cost was his sanity.”

There was a flicker of sorrow in his cold eyes. “Mine has been brewing for centuries. A lifetime of anger, unhappiness, bitterness. Rage. Every failed bonding ritual, every new child born to another…Watching the Fates play their cruel game.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And when they finally granted my wish, they took it all away, three short nights later. This madness has been festering for a damn long time. It’s inevitable.”

Fight it! Aekeira wanted to scream, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

He resumed walking, and Aekeira followed, heavy-hearted. They crossed the meadows, then the sun-dappled trails winding through ancient woods, and finally, the vineyards heavy with ripening grapes. They reached the courtyard, where Yaz and the other soldiers awaited them beside a carriage.

Lord Vladya stepped inside, leaving Aekeira in a quandary. Slaves did not ride in carriages, especially not alongside their masters. Would she be expected to trudge behind on foot? The thought made her shudder.

“Get in.” Lord Vladya closed his eyes, his voice weary.

“Inside…with you?”

“Get in, Aekeira.” A subtle, uncharacteristic softening touched his tone.

Trying to mask her surprise—and the thrill shooting through her—Aekeira climbed into the carriage, settling beside him. The space was intimate, their bodies pressed close together.

“May I ask where we’re going?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not abducting you to bury your corpse in some unmarked grave.”

That startled a laugh from her. The grand lord’s eyes opened, swiveling to stare at her face a moment too long, her smile fading under his intense gaze. “Did you just make a joke?”

A frown creased his brows before he closed his eyes again. “We’re going to Merrilyn’s. If I want to maintain a semblance of normalcy, I need to feed properly from my bloodhost.”

Ackira’s stomach twisted, and she forcefully pushed aside the ugly feeling that rose within her. If feeding from his bloodhost helped keep the madness at bay, Ackeira would support it.

The carriage stopped before a magnificent manor house nestled within a luxurious estate. Servants lined the entrance, bowing deeply as Lord Vladya alighted. They ushered him inside, Ackeira trailing behind.

“Master Henry is away, Your Highness,” the steward informed him, “but Madame Merrilyn is in her chambers. Shall I inform her of your arrival?”

“I know she’s indisposed, Bazo. I will go to her.”

They followed the steward to a closed door; she announced their presence, then stepped aside. Lord Vladya opened the door, and Aekeira entered behind him.

Lady Merrilyn sat propped up in bed, a warm smile gracing her lips. “My Lord.”

“How are you feeling, Merry?”

“Well enough.” Lady Merrilyn’s gaze shifted to Aekeira with a flicker of curiosity. “I see you’ve brought company.”

Aekeira inclined her head.

“How is the little one?” Lord Vladya asked.

The lady’s face softened with radiant joy. “She’s perfect.” She raised her voice slightly. “Kadiri, bring my child.”

The door opened, and an Urekai female, presumably the nursemaid, entered carrying a swaddled bundle. Only the infant’s head was visible, a wisp of dark hair peeking out from the linen.

Aekeira’s heart swelled with pure love. She had always adored babies. It took every ounce of restraint not to reach out and beg to hold the child, even for a fleeting moment.

She used to fantasize about a child of her own, but that dream was impossible, especially in her current situation. Aekeira would rather not birth a child than condemn her offspring to a life of slavery.

The nursemaid placed the child in Lord Vladya’s outstretched hands; he stared down at the bundle with an intense expression. Then, as if by magic, his eyes softened, and the harsh lines of his face smoothed into a longing so raw and unguarded Aekeira had to stifle a gasp.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “She looks like her mother. You’ve done well, Merry.”

Lady Merrilyn beamed, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Vlad. It means so much that you…that you’re holding her. I know you normally avoid newborns.”

“She’s yours,” he said, his voice heavy with sadness. “Of course, I would hold her.”

Aekeira reached out to touch his shoulder, but her fingers hovered in the air before quickly withdrawing.

Lady Merrilyn’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Aekeira as if peering into her very soul.