Chapter 430:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

The same long, sharp claws she had seen tear through enemies with ease slowly curled around her hand.

Not to harm, but to hold.

Emeriel bit back her gasp. Instead, she squeezed gently. “Eat, beloved.”

King Daemonikai’s mouth opened slightly.

“Ukrae’s scent…” Lord Ottai’s mouth hung open, staring at Emeriel as if she had grown a second head.

For the first time since entering the room, a faint smile tugged at Emeriel’s lips. She scooped the porridge into King Daemonikai’s mouth, and he swallowed, his throat working as he chewed.

“He can hear you,” Lord Ottai’s voice cracked. The fourth ruler looked close to tears. “I think he can hear you, Emeriel.”

“Maybe,” Emeriel was equally surprised but concealed it well. She hadn’t truly believed it would work. “Maybe he does.”

Lord Ottai hovered for the rest of the meal, watching her with awe and animation. He only left when an urgent message arrived, calling him away to Mabblewood.

Emeriel finished feeding King Daemonikai, satisfied that he had eaten enough, before rising to take her leave. It had been a long, draining day, and she longed for the comfort of her bed.

But as she turned a corner, a hand shot out, grabbing her hair from behind, yanking it hard enough to make her stumble. Emeriel jerked back to avoid having her hair torn from the roots.

“You think you can just run your mouth at me?” hissed the familiar voice of Mistress Sinai, tightening her grip. “You think you can waltz in here, unwanted and unwelcome, moving freely as if your filthy self owns this place?”

Explore more stories gαℓησν𝒆ls․cøm

“Mistress,” Emeriel gritted out, one hand reaching up to clamp firmly around Mistress Sinai’s fist, preventing her from pulling any harder and potentially scalping her. “Let go, let’s discuss this like two adults.”

“There is only one adult here, and it’s not you. You are nothing but a mere fly. Let me remind you that you are only as free as I allow you to be—OUCH!” The mistress screeched.

Emeriel had stomped down hard on the mistress’s foot, forcing her grip to loosen. In a smooth move, Emeriel stepped aside, maintaining her hold on Sinai’s wrist, and twisted the woman’s arm behind her back at an agonizing angle. In seconds, their positions were reversed, and the mistress was now at Emeriel’s mercy.

“And you are only as pestering as I let you be,” Emeriel retorted coolly, her voice low in the mistress’s ear. “Like that incessant ant crawling near the ear that just won’t leave.”

“Let me go, RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” Mistress Sinai raged. “How dare you—”

Raising her free hand, Emeriel flattened her palm and delivered a sharp blow to the side of Mistress Sinai’s neck. One precise hit, and the mistress crumpled at her feet like a rag doll, unconscious before her body even hit the ground.

Unfazed, Emeriel calmly smoothed back her hair and stared down at the limp body. “People like you are the reason I spent fifteen hours every day on the training grounds to be better.” Emeriel gave her a small kick, but the female truly was out like a light. “The only thing you have going for you is your beast form. Day and night, I fought. I…”

“Trained, with every instructor known to man, masters in their field. Under the rain, under the scorching sun, for years.”

Emeriel stomped on her arm, then stepped over her. Lifting the hem of her garment, she cast a final glance back. “We will meet again, Mistress.”

.

.

.