That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 221

Chapter 221:

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Unlike Lord Vladya, who seethed with anger when discussing the tragedy, King Daemonikai spoke of his loss with an unsettling lack of emotion. Her Beloved is in far greater pain than I could have ever imagined.

She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to reach out and offer comfort. She could feel his agony in her chest, like a thousand daggers piercing her heart.

He paused, his gaze drifting towards a vibrant row of flowers. “However, I am a leader. Do you know what that means, young princess? It means I must bury my pain, for my people will always come first. I cannot succumb to the vengeance that gnaws at me—not because I lack the power, but because it is not what my people need right now. They need to rebuild, to find solace and a semblance of normalcy. My duty as their king is to guide and show them how to move forward, even when I am lost.”

His gaze returned to her like green flames in a darkened forest. “Do I hate humans? With every fiber of my being, and every ounce of my soul. I never want to have anything to do with any of them. Ever.”

Emeriel saw now, with a clarity she had lacked before, the wisdom behind Lord Vladya’s actions. His insistence on scent suppressants and distance.

She had seen it mostly as punishment and an act of cruelty. But he had actually protected her, shielded her from the wrath of a broken king. Lord Vladya was right; he had done her a favor.

“Why are you telling me this?” She swallowed hard, her eyes searching his for answers.

“I have no idea,” he admitted with a shrug. “Perhaps it is easier to overlook you because you are betrothed to one of my lords, and if he has accepted you, as his ruler, I am trying to do the same.”

His head tilted slightly in thought. “Perhaps it is because I do not feel that usual agitation in your presence, even though you are human? Is it because you are a Siren? Or is it your scent? Perhaps it’s because I have no personal ties to you, no connection whatsoever. I cannot say for certain, young princess.”

Your imagination begins with gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s﹒ç𝗈𝗺

That means if we had any connection, his attitude toward me would have been entirely different. Wait. “My scent?”

Emeriel paled. She hadn’t used the scent suppressants this morning!

“Yes. Your scent… I cannot even begin to describe it. I feel as though I have caught that scent before, but I cannot recall where or when. All I know is that it calls to me.”

In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them, his eyes blazing. He was looking at her with that penetrating gaze again, his presence overwhelming her senses.

“Can I scent you?”

“Huh?” Emeriel gasped, breathless. His fragrance, a potent blend of masculine power, surrounded her, filling her nostrils, making her head spin. He was a towering figure, filling her vision and senses. At that moment, her entire world narrowed down to this one man.

And heavens help her, she was already baring her neck for him, offering it to him, her breath quickening.

“I wish to scent you,” King Daemonikai admitted, his eyes burning into hers. “You are betrothed, and I should not do this. But I want to, young princess. Your scent calls to me, and it is both distracting and intoxicating. I need to scent you. May I?”

This is a bad idea, Emeriel. A very bad idea.

But her body had already made the decision. “Y-yes,” she whispered, “Okay.”

In an instant, he buried his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.

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