That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate by Kiss Leilani

Chapter 646:

“What are you doing here, Your Majesties? You should not have come.”

“Today is the celestial offering from the southern people,” Daemonikai reminded her patiently.

“We are here to observe the rites, as is our duty.”

“I am well aware of that,” she placed the bundle of herbs on the ground before rising.

“But you rarely attend such ceremonies. I assumed you would not trouble yourselves to be here. And you…” Her eyes shifted to Vladya.

“You are not even a Southerner. You rule the Western Clans. What business do you have here?”

“The Oracle’s home is open to all, and the Oracle receives whomever seeks her. The Oracle does not discriminate,” Vladya recited from the sacred book with amusement.

The grumpy old lady huffed, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “That damned book again.”

Daemonikai’s brow furrowed.

“Do you truly not wish us here?” Vladya was bothered too. He could not recall a time when she had hesitated to grant them an audience.

shaking her

it, Great Grand King, and I apologize if I have given that impression. But your females are entering their heat cycles. You should not be

words left her lips, she doubled

the ground,

Vladya scoffed.

shouldn’t have—wait.”

more chapters

Going

the blood

have already begun, I may as well finish. Yes, the princesses have entered the peak of

mouth was agape as

could not help wearing

Oracle. There seems to be a misunderstanding.

she has,” the Oracle

for the signs, did I not? Your woman has always been a Syren, compatible with you. Why do you think your connection with her has always run so deep, even in the beginning, when you believed you hated her? Why did you feel those urges whenever you were intimate with her—to unleash on her, to release in the womb? Why did her blood call to you? Why do the voices in your head always go silent when she is near?

Vladya like a hammer

been with your soulbond all along, Grand Lord Vladya.” The Oracle coughed

to manifest, the slightest nudge at the place where your soul should be shot her straight into