That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 322

Chapter 322:

Daemonikai’s own beast snarled in response, offended by the attack and the blatant disrespect. It began to shove itself up, clawing at the edges of his control, trying to force a shift. Daemonikai grunted, struggling to maintain his human form.

“V.D.?” Something was deeply wrong. Vladya’s eyes… they held no recognition. “Vladya?”

With a supreme effort of will, Daemonikai forced himself to expose his throat. To submit.

His beast roared in protest, so outraged it banged its head hard against the walls of Daemonikai’s chest. WE SUBMIT TO NO ONE!

It took everything in him to keep his head tilted.

Finally, the claws in his side withdrew. Vladya took a step back, snarling. “Who in Tartarus are you?”

He didn’t know?

Daemonikai’s insides turned cold, as though a dash of ice water had been forced down his throat. Dread filled his gut. “It’s me, V.D.”

“How dare you invade my space? I should rip your throat out.” Vladya was looking at him, but not seeing him. His eyes were wild, filled with an intent to kill.

“Scent my neck.” The words tasted like acid on his tongue, but they were necessary. Alphas do not bare their necks. He, a grand king, should not be in such a humiliating position, with another alpha breathing at his throat. “You know you want to, big guy. Come on, do it.”

Vladya lunged, burying his face in the crook of Daemonikai’s neck, breathing deeply. His beast whined in betrayal, feeling let down by their male side, its head hanging low.

But this was Vladya. His V.D.

Møɍɛ ųρɗα†єş ıŋ ɢαℓŋσνєƖş.ƈσʍ

The grand king closed his eyes and held still, Vladya’s breath hot against his skin. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he said, keeping his voice calm, his stance non-threatening.

Vladya released another burst of pheromones, meant to provoke. To assault.

“I mean no harm,” Daemonikai grunted, raising his hands in surrender, his muscles tense with the effort to remain passive.

Vladya took another deep breath… and stiffened. He shoved away, taking three steps back, eyes widening. “Daemon?”

“Vlad, are you there?” Daemonikai’s voice was gentle, coaxing. The yellow in Vladya’s eyes receded, the wild look vanished. “When did you get here? What’s going on? Why did you bare your throat?” Daemonikai closed the distance between them in one step and punched him hard on the nose.

Vladya hissed, clutching his face, and shot Daemonikai a shocked glare. “What the hell?”

Daemonikai landed another punch. On the third attempt, Vladya moved with lightning speed, dodging the blow. “Wait, let’s talk about this.”

The grand king advanced again, his fury mounting, and this time, a flicker of wariness crossed Vladya’s face, only fueling Daemonikai’s rage.

A guilt-free Vladya would be throwing punches by now. Instead of trying to restrain his beast, his friend would be all over him, engaging him in a fight that would leave this chamber in ruins.

“You bastard. You selfish little—” Daemonikai grabbed his shoulders and squeezed hard, the fabric of Vladya’s tunic crumpling under his iron grip. “You selfish bastard.”

Vladya slumped against him, as if all energy had been drained from him, his breaths coming out in white puffs against the chill. “You know.”

.

.

.