That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 453

Chapter 453:

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“Nice shot,” Emeriel commented.

“Thanks. Hey, come over here,” he beckoned her closer.

Strapping the quiver of arrows to her back, Emeriel joined him at the stand.

“Each shot is a moment to breathe, to release the burdens that weigh on you,” Daemonikai said softly, setting up her shot. “Weeks of caring for me must have been difficult. I figured this would be a good way to relax. Archery can be surprisingly therapeutic.”

Emeriel focused on the target, her fingers brushing the bowstring.

“It’s also a useful skill for safety and defense,” he continued. “In the days of old, archers believed that—”

The sudden whizz of an arrow cut him off. Emeriel had already loosed her arrow, striking the bullseye with pinpoint accuracy.

His jaw dropped.

He stared at the target, then back at Emeriel, then back at the target.

Emeriel shrugged nonchalantly. “I learned a thing or two.”

“Wow,” he finally said, stunned. “That was impressive. Archery is not an easy skill to master. How did you learn to shoot like that?”

Silence met his question. Emeriel stared blankly at the target, her eyes distant, as if reliving some private memory.

“Emeriel…”

She blinked, snapping out of her reverie. “Let’s just say pain can be a killer… and a motivator.”

Just like that, Daemonikai’s good mood soured.

After he had sent her away, the Soulbond had been crueler than anything he had ever imagined. He had known it would be bad, had expected suffering, but the reality was on a whole new level.

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It was a hollowing hunger deep within his soul.

Days had blurred into a haze of misery, with him barely functioning. Grief was swallowed by something darker—a soul-deep need that clawed at him relentlessly.

Countless times, he had almost crossed over to the human world to get her. To bring her back right here. But the guilt always stopped him. How could he want another woman so desperately when his lifetime bondmate lay beneath the ground, dead because of his failure to protect her?

How could he desire a human so fiercely?

How could he lie awake at night, not thinking of Evie, but of Emeriel? Wondering what the future would have felt like with her.

He had felt like the worst kind of traitor. Torn from two angles, neither of which offered any mercy.

And when he finally stood at the great mountains, ready to cross over and bring Emeriel back, the crushing guilt had tripled tenfold, nearly suffocating him. So, he had turned back, returning to face his broken kingdom—and his even more broken self.

The Soulbond had torn him to pieces.

But if it had been that excruciating for him, Daemonikai shuddered to think how much worse it must have been for Emeriel. She had carried the bond longer, nurtured it more deeply.

“Are you alright?” Her voice brought him back to the present. She was standing in front of him, her expression cool but her eyes searching.

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