Chapter 70: Steal Me Away, Handsome Prince

A blush spread across Blair’s cheeks.

"Well," she murmured. "You are very handsome. So, I am sure my friends will understand."

Daemus couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. His fingers gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He watched the way she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. At least like this, Daemus thought quietly, she isn’t feeling any pain.

Blair shifted, her hands pressing against the mattress as she struggled to pull herself upright.

"Here," Daemus murmured, leaning forward. He slipped an arm behind her back, carefully supporting her weight to help her sit up against the pillows.

As he leaned in close, Blair’s head tilted up. Before Daemus could even register the movement, she pressed her soft lips quickly against his own.

It was just a fleeting peck, but it completely short-circuited his brain.

"Good, she is already sitting up," a voice announced from the doorway.

Daemus jumped back, his silver eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder.

His mother, Clarice, strolled back into the bedroom holding a glass of ice water. She didn’t seem to notice her son’s deer-in-headlights expression, her focus entirely on the giggling human on the bed.

Daemus quickly moved to stand up, desperate to put some distance between himself and Blair.

But her small fingers clamped around his forearm with a desperate grip.

"Don’t go," Blair whined softly, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Don’t leave me, my prince. Stay with me."

Daemus froze. His heart was hammering so hard and fast against his ribs that he was certain his mother could hear it from across the room.

"I..." Daemus swallowed hard, looking from Blair’s grip up to his mother. He slowly sank back down onto the edge of the bed.

Clarice raised a brow, but she didn’t comment. She walked over and handed Daemus the glass.

Daemus brought the rim of the glass to Blair’s lips, gently tipping it back and carefully helping her drink the water.

Some time later, a human servant carried in a steaming bowl of rich broth, resting it carefully on the nightstand before quickly bowing out.

Daemus picked up the porcelain bowl and the silver spoon.

He scooped up a small amount of the dark liquid, holding the spoon near his lips and blowing softly across the surface to cool it down.

"Open," Daemus coaxed, holding the spoon out to her.

Blair obediently opened her mouth. Daemus slipped the spoon past her lips.

The second the broth hit her tongue, Blair’s face scrunched up in disgust. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a gag.

"Ew!" Blair complained, turning her head away and pushing the spoon back with a trembling hand. "It’s so bitter!"

"It’s good for you," Daemus reasoned, trying to follow her mouth with the spoon. "You have to drink it to get better."

Blair stubbornly kept her lips pressed tightly shut, shaking her head side to side like a petulant toddler refusing her cough syrup.

Daemus let out a quiet sigh. He lowered the spoon.

"Okay," Daemus proposed, a teasing smirk touching his lips. "If you drink the whole bowl... I’ll give you a kiss."

Blair’s eyes snapped open. She looked at him, then down at the steaming bowl of bitter soup.

A determined pout formed on her lips. She leaned forward, opening her mouth and waiting expectantly.

Daemus let out a soft chuckle. He scooped up another spoonful, blew across the surface, and carefully fed it to her. Blair forced herself to swallow, squeezing her eyes tightly shut against the vile taste, before immediately opening her mouth for the next bite.

Daemus patiently fed her spoonful after spoonful. She didn’t complain again, diligently working through it just to claim her prize.

When the bowl was empty, Daemus set it back down onto the nightstand. Blair turned to him, wiping her mouth with the back of her trembling hand, and puckered her lips expectantly.

But before Daemus could even lean in, Blair’s eyes rolled back into her head. Her body went limp, dropping back against the pillows as she fell instantly to sleep.

Daemus let out a quiet chuckle. He leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the center of her forehead.

Careful not to wake her, Daemus kicked his shoes off and climbed up into bed, settling down beside her.

Meanwhile, Clarice stepped out into the garden of the estate.

She walked down the stone path until she reached a white marble bench. King Beralt was already seated there, a fur cloak draped over his broad shoulders against the mountain chill. He was a much older wolf, his features hardened by years of rule, possessing jet-black raven hair and sharp brown eyes. The striking blue hair and silver eyes of their children had all been inherited entirely from Clarice’s side of the family.

Beralt sat quietly, his dark eyes tracking their youngest son, Kael, as the young wolf pup scrambled playfully across the snow, chasing a fluttering butterfly.

Clarice took a seat beside her husband, quietly updating him on Blair’s condition.

Beralt hummed thoughtfully, keeping his eyes on his youngest son. "I had heard that she is also the pet of the Crown Prince, Killian."

Clarice scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "That is nonsense. The human girl did not agree to it."

Beralt slowly turned his head, leveling his wife with a cold stare.

"You are foolish if you believe the Royal Family asks for permission," Beralt stated. "They take whatever they want. And there is nothing even I can do about it if Prince Killian truly wants her."

Clarice’s lips thinned into a tight line.

"We should be grateful he does not seem to mind her relationship with our son," Beralt continued flatly. "All our plans for the future will be doomed if Killian decides to forbid their relationship."

Clarice shot up from the marble bench, her silver eyes flashing with indignant fury. "Are you suggesting that our son shares his mate?!"

"Calm down," Beralt ordered smoothly, not raising his voice. "The human girl is only a breeder mate. Our son has been blessed with two mates. So what if he has to share the breeder one?"

Clarice crossed her arms, her jaw tight, but she didn’t argue.

"The one who matters is Kyana," Beralt said, turning his attention back to the garden. "If Daemus is going to be the next Beast King, he will need the support of the Blackwood pack. Daemus will do what is best for this family, and for the pack."

Beralt looked back up at his wife. "I have already arranged a dinner tonight. With Kyana and her parents."

Clarice’s eyes widened in horror. "Tonight?!"

"I had only barely managed to appease them after Daemus and Kyana’s relationship ended," Beralt explained smoothly. "You will have to persuade them to agree to this new arrangement."

Clarice stared at him in disbelief, throwing her hands up into the air. "You might as well ask me to spin straw into gold!"

Beralt stood up from the bench, gently cupped her face, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Even that," Beralt murmured confidently, "I am sure you can accomplish with some effort."