That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 185

Chapter 185:

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Their eyes widened with alarm as they saw their ruler, but a sharp shake of the grand lord’s head cut off any offers of assistance they were about to make.

“I am fine,” Vladya insisted, and they reluctantly respected his wishes.

They followed behind the grand lord, all the way to the grand entrance of his home.

With a deep bow, Emeriel offered his heartfelt gratitude.

“My Lord Vladya, I am forever in your debt for saving my life.”

“Stay out of trouble,” Grand Lord Vladya’s tone was cool and dismissive. “Return to your quarters. Your duties are concluded for today.”

Emeriel obeyed, but worry gnawed at him as he left. Lord Vladya’s injuries had looked severe, even if he’d treated them as mere nuisances.

“I still can’t believe he saved my life,” Emeriel whispered, a mix of gratitude and confusion swirling within him.

He flung open the door to his quarters, took one step inside—and went very still.

A shadowy figure lurked against the far wall, its hand darting for a weapon sheathed at its hip. Another assassin.

Fear jolted through Emeriel. They were inside.

How many more were hiding in there?

He slammed the door shut with a frantic bang, quickly pivoting into a run. The crash of wood splintering echoed behind him, followed by the thunderous footsteps of his pursuers.

He could barely force his exhausted legs to keep up the desperate pace.

The good news was, this group didn’t seem to have the poisonous arrows. But the bad news?

They were closing in on him. Fast.

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Emeriel had a single destination in mind.

Grand Lord Vladya’s quarters would have been a shorter journey, but his instincts drove him in one direction. His beast.

GRAND LORD VLADYA

Grand Lord Vladya slumped in his study chair, his gaze fixed blankly on the weathered stone wall. He had sent a soldier to summon Merrilyn.

The soldier’s report resounded in his skull: Lady Merrilyn had been in labor for hours and thus unable to make the journey.

The next thing to do was clear. He needed to hurry to his bloodhost before the poison reached his heart, while some strength remained, and get the much-needed blood himself. Even if it meant a sip from a goblet, just to sustain him until the healer arrived. Any other male in his position would have done it.

Not him.

His eyes fell to the ravaged flesh on his shoulder. The wound throbbed, swollen, black veins pulsing outward, tracing a macabre path toward his heart.

While hunting in the woods with his soldiers, he had spotted an assassin. He’d sent Yaz and the others ahead, then gave chase. He wasn’t surprised to learn they were targeting Emeriel. He had known yesterday’s events would put the boy in greater danger. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Was it Zaiper? Or were there others?

The door creaked open, and Yaz entered, his scent thick with concern. “I shall hurry to Lady Merrilyn’s dwelling and inform them of your poisoning, my Lord. She would bleed herself dry to save you, even amidst labor’s agony. She is unaware of the severity of your need.”

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