Chapter 327:
His priority was Vladya’s sanity. All that mattered was Vladya.
Worst of all was seeing Vladya battle his instincts. Twice today, Daemonikai had watched as a wildness took over his friend’s features. Growling and pacing the floor like a caged beast. Body coiled with tension. Battling. Resisting.
Like now, he was doing it again. Fist clenched as he stomped from one end to another.
Each time Daemonikai demanded to know what exactly Vladya was resisting so hard, he was met with a defiant glare and a stubborn set to Vladya’s jaw.
Daemonikai understood stubbornness. That iron control, and sheer force of will were traits he and Vladya shared. He should let it go, but curiosity wouldn’t let him.
What was it that Vladya resisted so fiercely, and why did he look so utterly ravenous each time he fought back?
When they ate meals, Daemonikai had ordered extra food, assuming hunger might be the issue. It wasn’t. The wild hunger in Vladya’s eyes remained.
Shifting away from the door, Daemonikai strode across the room and eased into the chair, propping his boots on the table’s edge, casually crossing them at the ankles.
“If you drank from Merilyn just days ago, I assume bloodlust is not the problem,” Daemonikai mused, his gaze following Vladya as he stalked across the study. “So… sexlust, then.”
Vladya shot him a glare, huffing in irritation. His nose and cheek were bruised and slightly swollen from Daemonikai’s blows, but it didn’t seem like the male felt the pain, pacing restlessly.
Somehow, the wild look in Vladya’s eyes grew stronger, as if he truly was having a hard time resisting.
Daemonikai was done with this.
gⱯlnσν𝓮ℓs․com hosts the latest chapters
Sighing, he uncrossed his ankle and straightened. “How many females do you want? Two? Ten?”
“I’m not battling sexlust,” Vladya grunted.
“And I was born today. Just a fresh youngling suckling on my mama’s bosom,” Daemonikai shot back with a straight face.
Vladya inhaled deeply, ignoring him.
“Should I call the maids?” Daemonikai persisted. “Contact the whorehouse? A mistress?”
Vladya stopped in his tracks, his fists clenched. A muscle in his jaw ticked, his control visibly fraying at the edges. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is from where I’m standing.”
Vladya’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I want to hurt her,” he finally admitted, his voice so low, ashamed. “I want to unleash on her.”
Daemonikai’s brows shot up in surprise. He crossed his arms, intrigued. “So, I’m right. There is a female. Who is she? A lady, perhaps? Is she bonded? Is that why you’re ashamed? Because I’ll drag her here, bondmate or not.”
“She’s not bonded—wait. You would get me someone’s bondmate?” Vladya’s head snapped up, voice incredulous. “Have you lost your mind?”
“If that’s who you want, yes,” Daemonikai said without hesitation. His gaze was steady, resolute. “I’ll bring the Oracle herself if I have to. I care nothing for consequences or propriety right now. So, stop stalling and tell me the truth.”
Vladya shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “You hide it so well behind your appearance as a just king, but sometimes I forget how morally twisted you truly are, Daemonikai Vipertheriov Naelzharoth.”
.
.
.