That Prince is a Girl the Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate - Chapter 687

Chapter 687:

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Until, eventually, he had stopped coming.

For centuries, the tragedies had continued. But he no longer felt them. Numb. Lifeless.

Tonight, he stood once more here, looking at the uneven ground, at the darkness that stretched before him. He took in the silver flow of the waterfall spilling down one side of the cavern. And the feeling he had been suppressing all day broke free. Hot tears spilled from his eyes.

Vladya let them fall.

Here, in this place, he’d never needed to restrain himself. This place alone had borne witness to his pains, his despair. And tonight, he wanted it to bear witness to this as well.

For the first time, he clung to these walls, tears streaming down his face, but they were not tears of anguish. Not of suffering. Not of misery. Not the bitter tears of a life deemed unfair, or the helpless kind shed over a fate slipping through his fingers.

No. Tonight, the cavern shared in his joy. Tears of happiness so overwhelming he could scarcely contain them. Tears of hope that were real and touchable. Tears of excitement for a future worth enduring almost four thousand years of pure torment. Because every misery had led him to her.

And perhaps—just perhaps—everything would be all right in his world.

Moments later, when Vladya stepped out into the cool night, he was startled to see Daemonikai leaning casually against a tree like a silent sentinel in the darkness, arms crossed.

“It was a guess, but I figured I might find you here.”

Vladya approached, his footsteps quiet.

“Why are you so far from the fortress?”

Daemonikai pushed off the tree with a lazy stretch.

“I ventured out to share a run with my dear friend, who, in the near future, will cradle in his arms the greatest treasure the world can offer.”

Vladya’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“Indeed.” This time, he was the one to step forward and embrace his friend.

Daemonikai tensed for only a heartbeat before his arms came around Vladya’s shoulders, his grip firm and strong.

“I am going to be a father, Your Grace,” Vladya rasped.

“Congratulations, V.D. I am proud of how far you have come.”

Vladya exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Who would have thought, hm?”

“I would. I always did.” Daemonikai pulled back, giving him a solid pat on the shoulder.

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“Not once did I give up on you, even when you gave up on yourself. Come, let us take that run.”

Daemonikai returned to the royal residence well past midnight, his muscles aching from the night’s exertions as he proceeded directly to his bedchamber. Opening the heavy wooden door, he stepped inside and halted.

Emeriel sat at the edge of the bed, her head resting against the carved bedpost. She was fast asleep.

Her chest rose and fell, lips slightly parted, soft breaths escaping between them. She had been waiting for him.

His grip on the doorframe tightened. For a moment, Daemonikai allowed himself to imagine her like this, only different. Her belly round with his child, his seed growing within her.

The image struck something deep within his chest—a pure longing.

He felt immense joy for Vladya. Aekeira’s last heat had granted him the desire of a lifetime. And deep within Daemonikai, he hoped one day, it would be the same for him and Emeriel. That one day, her full heat would also bless them with such a miracle.

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