That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137 

LORD HEROD 

High Lord Herodis‘ heart ached with a profound sorrow he hadn’t felt in decades. Emeriel’s screams pierced the night’s air like a banshee’s wail, filled with unbearable pain, each one a shard of ice twisting in his gut. 

He wanted nothing more than to rush to her, to mount the female in heat, especially with those screams of agony. The sound of her suffering was nearly unbearable. 

Despite the cottage being far away, her cries reached him clearly. As Urekai aged, their senses grew sharper, and their strength increased. Herod was no exception. 

His heightened senses were even sharper, capturing every tortured sound, and it broke him. He could even hear the desperate whimpers punctuating her screams. 

Herod’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the arms of his study chair. His erection was hard and angry, straining through his 

tensed in an effort to maintain control. pants. His muscle 

While she struggled to ride out her torturous heatwaves, Herod rose and began to pace his study like a caged beast. 

Emeriel had made him promise no stranger would touch her during her heat, and he understood her disgust at the thought of enduring another male’s touch. 

But now, hearing her pain, he questioned the wisdom of that promise. Was anything worth her going through this unbearable agony? 

He could spare her this torment by taking her heat or sending in one of his most trusted soldiers. 

Or you could send for her male. The thought whispered in his mind. 

Herod understood the grand king’s predicament more intimately than most. Having lost his beloved Vera to the cruel clutches of illness three decades past, he knew what it felt like to live with the pain of a severed bond. 

The anguish of losing a bondmate was excruciating, the grief unbearable. 

Thirty years had passed, yet the gaping void still remained. Some nights, Herod woke from sleep, missing his Vera so much he wept until dawn. 

The misery of a severed bond was like losing a limb. Or a dozen 

Vera’s death had not been his fault, but Herod had spent countless nights blaming himself, hating himself for his failure to protect her. 

Queen Evielyn had not been sick for years; she was so vibrant and had so much life yet to live. And then, suddenly, she was gone. It was a burden no one should bear.