That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 361

Chapter 361
Hours later, Daemonikai sat in the reclining chair of his bedchamber, freshly washed, freshly bandaged, and clothed in clean linens. Faiwick had done a thorough job—curbed the bleeding, cleaned the wounds meticulously, and stitched them with care. The pain remained, but the worst had passed.

Daemonikai’s eyes were closed, though sleep remained out of reach. The voices had quieted for now, but his head throbbed like the devils. Still, the silence and solitude served him well. He would take whatever peace he could find.

He was still furious with Vladya. That had not changed, and he’d already made a mental note to plant a well-deserved punch in the male’s gut the next time they crossed paths.

But truth was truth.

Vladya was right.

The thirst to kill was becoming impossible to ignore. And the more he fed that hunger, the closer he got to Madness Land. He knew the path, had walked it before. After Alvin died in his arms, after he found Myka and Evie’s lifeless bodies, he’d begun to spiral—going from zero to ninety. But what had pushed him over the edge then were the killings that followed.

He’d tasted the blood of his enemies, and he had given in. Fully.

Taken his beast form, he’d massacred every human soldier in sight. The sound of their bones breaking, their screams ringing in his ears... those had been the last coherent things he remembered before he tumbled over.

Now, he was teetering there again. And the hunger for slaughter was back.

Sheer will was no longer enough to hold him steady. He needed to satisfy his basic instincts soon.

A knock came and his door opened without waiting for a reply.

Daemonikai opened his eyes to find Emeriel standing there.

“I heard you returned,” she said quietly. But her gaze flicked immediately to the bandages, worry following. “My King…”

“I’m fine.” He extended a hand toward her. “Come here.”

Her steps were slow as she crossed the room toward him. He watched her in silence, his possessive instincts stirring. Seven months into her carrying, her belly was high and full—rounder even than her sister’s, which made her self-conscious. But Daemonikai thought she looked sexy. Good enough to eat.

As soon as she was within reach, he caught her hand, tugging her gently into his lap. He settled her against him with careful hands, one large palm sliding protectively to her belly.

“What happened?” she asked. “Did you find him? Did you fight and he escaped? Is that why you’re bruised—and why he isn’t here?”

Daemonikai shook his head once. “We crossed feral territories. Fought packs of them.” He caressed her belly. “But I’m fine now.”

Her hand lifted, resting on his chest. “And your mind?” she asked. “The voices?”

“Quiet.”

He did not tell her how loud they had become of late. How difficult it had been to hold the bloodlust at bay. She didn’t need that weight.

“What about the dark mage who wove the spell?” she asked next.

“It’s as if he vanished from the face of the world.” Daemonikai forced calm into his tone. “The only thing we know is that he’s still within Urai. The borders are locked down—none can cross without my knowledge. But he remains hidden.”

Emeriel’s lips thinned.

“The Mage King suggested we use magic to find him,” Daemonikai went on. “He can weave the spell… but it would require me to be paralyzed for a full month.”