That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 686
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Chapter 686:
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“I love you,” she breathed, caressing his cheek.
“I love you with all my heart. And I will love you until the day I die.”
“Those are big promises,” he murmured, slowly rising to his full height, towering over her. He tipped her chin up with his fingers to meet his gaze.
“But they are best made, because now, you are fully mine.”
“Yours.”
“Look at me, Aekeira, and remember how serious these eyes were when I said this: Do not ever leave me. I will chase you to the ends of the world to bring you back. I will lock you in my bedchamber if that’s what it takes to keep you by my side forever.”
Then, he swept her into his arms, lifting her off her feet in a fiercely possessive hug.
“Thank you for bringing this faraway dream of mine close enough to touch.”
That night, Grand Lord Vladya stood by the door, gazing at the figure sleeping exhausted upon his bed. He had been standing there for some time now, barely noticing the passage of time.
A part of him still expected this to be ripped from his grasp. Torn away like every other good thing before it. Even now, it felt surreal. Unbelievable.
He had a female. His.
And she carried his child.
No one beyond their small circle knew of it. Vladya had not yet shared the news with his people. In time, he would.
But for now, secrecy was its own form of protection. The more concealed she remained, the safer she—and the child—would be.
His family.
Emotion thickened his throat—an ache both familiar and foreign. Those were words he never thought he would speak.
New chapt3rz abailabl3 at g𝒶l𝒏ovels.𝓬o𝓶
Words he never imagined would be something real, something his own. Vladya’s eyes drifted to the sheets draped over her form, shielding her belly. He knew not what he sought to find, yet in the past few hours, he had looked at that belly more than he had in months.
How could something that once seemed so distant—like a far-off dream—suddenly be within his reach?
His thoughts turned to his conversation with the Oracle earlier.
“Is there anything more I can do? Something different to make these spells work?” Vladya had asked.
“Aekeira has done most of the work,” the Oracle had replied.
“She is making you feel again, as one might raise dead bones. The more you feel, the greater your chance of regaining your soul. And the more these rituals work, the more you will feel and express.”
“So it all centers upon feeling.”
“And living. They go hand in hand. For one to truly live, they must feel. And for one to truly feel, they must live.”
Vladya’s mind returned, and once more, he was seeing Aekeira’s sleeping form.
He had lived more in these few years than he had in centuries. All because of this small, blessed human girl who had been placed into his cold and barren existence.
Turning, he walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. Yaz fell into step with him as he strode through the hallway, out of the citadel. That night, he went to his cave. It lay hidden, deep within the woods. A place he claimed for himself alone.
Vladya’s eyes swept over the uneven walls, taking it in. He had first come here after his fifth bonding ritual had failed—three millennia ago. The memory had long since blurred, but he recalled wandering the woods that night, suffocating under the weight of loss and heartbreak. Then, by chance or fate, he had stumbled upon this cave. He had entered, pressed his hands to the cold stone walls, and let his tears fall. And so, he had returned to this place, time and time again, whenever life had proven its cruelty.
.
.
.