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That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 285

Chapter 285 

THE LAST CHAPTER OF PART 3 

GRAND LORD VLADYA 

He and Grand Lord Ottai sat by the door until the early hours of dawn. 

Emeriel’s voice had long since failed her. 

Reduced to raw, broken whispers of suffering. The girl was utterly spent. 

Occasionally, a tired sob would slip from her lips, but otherwise, the air was deathly quiet, though they both knew the beast within was still active. 

At one point during the night, Ottai had soaked his robes with tears. 

His shoulders trembled as he listened to the horrors taking place beyond the thick wooden door. 

Yet neither of them had moved, their promise holding them captive in that same position. Waiting. Hoping. 

Because Vladya was fully attuned to the room beyond, he caught it first. The faint, almost undetectable sound of fangs piercing flesh. 

His body snapped upright, every muscle coiled and alert. 

“What’s going on?” Ottai croaked, jerking awake from the shallow sleep that had finally claimed him. 

“It’s coming to an end.” Vladya told him. “He is finally drinking from her.” 

Ottai’s tipped ears flared, his senses sharpening as he, too, tuned in. 

Vladya heard the stuttered rhythm of the beast’s strokes. Low, muffled growls in the air as Daemonikai reached his peak. 

But the drinking continued, dragging on as seconds turned into agonizing minutes. 

Ottai rose to his feet. “We have to go in there. He will drain her completely.” 

But Vladya pressed a firm hand to Ottai’s knee. “Not until she uses the safe word. We vowed.” 

“I know we did,” he snapped, his teeth grinding audibly. “We have listened to her suffer through the entire night because of that damned promise! But Vlad, the girl is exhausted. What if she can’t say it? What if she’s too weak? Or she doesn’t remember it? What if-” 

“K–Keira…” 

The soft, weak cry silenced them. 

Vladya and Ottai sprang to their feet at the same time, rushing for the door handle, but Vladya got it first. Holding it in a death grip, he threw open the door, with a force that rattled the hinges. 

The scene that greeted them was something out of a nightmare. 

Daemonikai was still in his beast form, hovering over Emeriel at the far end of the room. 

They were sprawled on the floor, the scent of blood and sex hanging thick in the air. 

The once–immaculate bed was soaked in blood. The trails marked every corner of the room… everywhere he’d dragged her, taken her, ravaged her. 

Their intrusion made the beast pause in his feeding, head whipping around, bloody fangs bared with menace. 

But as the act of drinking ceased, the last of its strength abandoned him, and the beast collapsed onto the floor beside the motionless woman. 

Emeriel hadn’t moved, since they entered. Not a stir. 

“Ukrae,” Ottai cried sorrowfully, staring at her. 

Vladya tried not to look. 

Avoiding the broken figure curled on the floor, he stared at the beast now satisfied and slumbering peacefully. 

“Now is our chance,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “We have to move him.” 

Dragging his eyes away from the girl, Ottai glanced at the unconscious beast. “What do we do with him?” 

“He’s still in beast form,” Vladya replied grimly. “And we don’t know when–or if–whatever’s happening to him will fade. We’re taking him to the Forbidden Chambers.” 

Ottai nodded, his face pale. 

The two of them shifted into their beast forms and carried Daemon out of the blood–soaked room into the dark corridors 

of Blackstone. 

The fortress was eerily silent. Hallways stretched ahead, empty of life. No servants moved about, no slaves loitered. Only the soldiers remained at their posts, still like statues. 


As though the entire citadel was in mourning. 

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