Chapter Nine
Bellamy
S he still had not responded.
Any rational male would assume that she was busy or, perhaps, that she did not want to talk.
I had never pretended I was rational, not in the slightest.
Pacing the length of the war room, I dutifully imagined all of the horrible scenarios that might have led to her silence. An hour—a full hour! Anything could have taken her in that time. Demons, fae, mortals, the sea.
For fucks sake, she could have taken herself.
Despite my consistent attempts not to do so, I thought of that day in Haven again. I remembered the way we had sobbed over Winona’s lifeless body, the way I held a screaming Ranbir as Henry and Cyprus lifted his soulmate off the ground—needing to prepare her to return to The Above. Then I recalled my realization that Asher was missing, a feeling of dread that had left me gasping for air.
I had gone into a panic, convinced that the queen—my cursed mother —had taken the love of my life. That she had somehow found a way back and discreetly abducted Ash without my knowledge.
Somehow, the truth was far worse.
Without a word, I had left the group, frantically searching for her. Begging whatever high being that was out there that she was alive and still in Haven. It had taken far too long to contemplate searching my manor. So long that by the time I had torn apart the first floor, I could already smell the blood.
From there, it had not been hard to follow the scent—her scent. She was on the floor amidst shattered pieces of the pianoforte. Red soaked the white room, painting it in the type of gore usually only depicted in war scenes.
Her eyes had been closed, arms slashed so deeply that no amount of magic in her veins could save her. She would not heal from it on her own.
My feet had taken me to her so fast that I had slipped in the liquid, hitting the ground hard enough to startle her back into consciousness. Her gray eyes held the type of brokenness that rarely could be mended, the whimper that left her lips a weak version of the piercing cry I knew she wanted to emit.
I crawled to her, tears streaming down my face as I begged for help, screamed for it. I had ripped my shirt off, shredding it to tie around her wounds. It was unsanitary and sloppy, but it was all I could do to staunch the blood flow. It was then that Asher’s anger shone through, the fury that I had not noticed in my own attempt to find in her the sorrow I had felt.
“Do not touch me!” she roared with impressive volume, trying to pull her arms from my grasp. I held on, forcing her to allow me to tighten the fabric around her forearms. She too began to sob, the fight in her weakening with every second. “Please, Bell. Please let me die. Let me do what I can to save you all. Please do not make me live when all I do is bring death. Do not force me to be the reason more die.”
I held her, forever haunted by her pleas for death. Her hair was matted with mud and blood, her once stunning blue gown shredded and stained. The kohl on her lids had smeared down, darkening her under eyes in a way that resembled a long-dead corpse. What a fitting image, to see her shattered that way—a perfect mirror of her clearly broken soul.
I hated myself for it, for contributing to the pain she now felt with startling force. More than that, I hated my parents. I hated the fae king and queen who had raised her in my place, who had abused and used her for so long that she now knew no peace. That she now would rather sacrifice herself than live and suffer at their hands.
Ranbir, Lian, and Henry had found us like that. Asher unmoving, barely breathing. Me rocking us, pleading for her to hold on, to not leave me, to give me a chance to make this world worthy of her.
“Bell?”
The sound of Noe’s voice cut me out of my trance, the painful memory gone but never far away. My eyes came back into focus, and apparently, I had stopped pacing at some point, leaving me standing in the middle of the war room, unmoving.
The war council members were all staring at me as if I had gone mad. Quite honestly, I had. That was the problem with finding something you loved. Suddenly, the things that you did out of obligation and duty seemed far less important.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
Noe shook her head, the disappointment and frustration she so clearly felt pinching her face. Lian seemed far more inclined to pity me, as if the sight of a bloody Asher in my arms as I screamed and cried brought her back to the loss of Yuza.
I would never forget that moment either. The way Lian clung to Yuza’s body, the way she stroked the blonde’s hair and repeatedly chanted that she was going to be okay. I had sat a few feet from her, waiting, trying not to scare her any more than she already was.
Hours had passed before she finally allowed me to portal the two of them to Eoforhild. By then I had already concocted a plan, and we landed on the beach of what would one day be Haven. What would one day be a graveyard for more than just Yuza.
So it made sense that the sight of Asher and I would bring back harsh memories of the very event that left Lian forever changed. Only three days after I rescued her, she asked me to teach her how to defend herself. How to never allow herself to be a victim again. Which was how a fae from the Air Lands would end up becoming a captain in the demon army and my swordmaster.
Now, as she stared at me with unashamed sympathy, I felt the weight of my own death and how it would affect Asher. How much I would need to fix before I left her. Though I knew in my heart that I would always be with her, that she would never be alone again, I also knew that she would suffer immensely. I needed to be strong enough to leave this world a place worthy of her.
With that in mind, I shook my head, as if clearing it of the thoughts that plagued me. Then I squared my shoulders and walked up to the center table, where a wooden model of Alemthian resided, all three realms that made up our world recreated in stunning clarity.
I was a prince, a general, a force of nature.
A fucking idiot, yes, but also a greatly feared being.
And now I needed to plan a way to win this war. Something I was born to do, something I was conceived to accomplish. Though I would win it for a different side than I had been made to support. Or maybe I would find a way to leave every realm intact, to win it for the innocents that Asher was so desperate to protect.
“Damon, tell me about the attacks,” I said, looking from the replica to the silver-haired demon across the way.
Damon was one of my chief strategists and my lieutenant general. Having Henry absent meant I needed my other seven captains and Damon to be present during this discussion, Noe joining as my spymaster as well.
A cold chill blew in through an open window, the early months of spring not enough to prevent the mountainous area of Sophistes from showing us discomfort over hospitality. The northeastern territory of Eoforhild was notorious for having colder weather, but this particular portion of Lady Timea’s lands was especially cruel. Still, this was the heart of the demon military, with above and underground facilities situated between the peaks to act as a base. For many, this was where they lived all year, a home of sorts. Even the cold could not sway them to leave Pike.
Over the last eighty years, I had been slowly building our army back to what it once was. As a newly appointed general, I was keen to prove myself, prepared to be as ruthless as needed to show that I deserved the leadership role. I spent decades recruiting, remaking, and restructuring the military so that we would be ready to take down the fae.
However, it was Lian’s blood curdling screams and the way she constantly rocked back and forth at night that made me truly ready to fight in another Great War. The previous one had lasted over five hundred years, only stopping when Adbeel had lost his son and daughter—his wife gone not long after.
He knew then that the war was not worth the lives of someone’s children, parents, or partners. It was a realization that came far too late, but one that was widely supported among the demons of Eoforhild. Still, I knew that it was Zaib, his late daughter, that made him end the violence. That, and his wife’s pleas.
More than that, he allowed refugees of all kinds to find safety in Eoforhild. Faeries and wraiths and banshees, even fae when I asked to create Haven. When I found purpose in a world that seemed to want nothing but my death and sorrow. When I stumbled upon the truth that lay behind the pointed ears and pretty power.
I had told Asher that I went to Betovere because I needed to connect with that portion of myself, which was not a lie, but a piece of me desired to see the parts that so many demons had said were wrong. To understand their hate and finally feel it as well. Little did I know that I would not hate the fae, but instead would loathe and curse my own parents.
Not that I had previously liked them. Adbeel himself had been the one to cut down Asher’s family—had taken me and never looked back—and he had told me at an early age that my parents had not once attempted to get me back. Not once even asked.
“They are growing far more vicious. Since the first attack, we have had three villages laid to waste. One in northeast Eros, one in the western mountains of Elpis, and the final attack being in central Kratos yesterday.”
Damon’s voice was steady, his dark eyes focused and full of rage. He, like everyone at the table, was prepared to fight. I nodded, encouraging him to continue and staring down at the five islands to the east of our realm. The five islands that were home to hundreds of thousands of unsuspecting and innocent creatures.
As I stood there listening to Damon describe the horrific attacks the fae were laying on Eoforhild through the use of a traitor demon, I knew that I was not like the male who had raised me. Because I would not prevent the war to save the realm. No, I would burn the entire thing to the ground to save Asher. And that made me the most dangerous thing anyone would face.
“Clearly, the demon that is working with them is strong. I saw him portal ten ships past The Mist, each full of Golden Guard. They are able to strike anywhere at any time because of him. Which means we have a target,” I said, pointing my finger at The Capital. The tiny island was the center of Betovere and the home to the royals. “The demon clung to the fae queen like a male begging the gods to be spared from death. It was obsessive, the way he followed her. I cannot imagine he would be willing to live apart from her.”
Along with the leaders of my military force, the five members of the war council were present. Each of them were brutal and dangerous warriors that had fought in the Great War. Their advice had never been utilized before now because I did not need suggestions of invading and conquering. Now, I took them gladly—greedily. I was desperate.
“So we lay waste to The Capital,” Marjorie said, her face stoic and calm despite the rage that simmered in her fierce brown eyes. Her scarlet hair was full of intricate braids swaying in the next gust of wind that came through the window, but she did not shiver. Her dark skin did not pebble. No, she drew warmth from that fury.
“Precisely. I have been there more times than I can count. Their defenses are weak, their guards sloppy. The forest at their southern border is rarely patrolled, especially with the lake—”
“Perhaps there are better options,” Finnick said, cutting me off mid-sentence. I clenched my teeth, attempting not to argue with the eldest member of the war council—or remind him of whom he bowed to.
The group of us all looked to him at once, but it was me he stared at, his gaze alight with vengeance and violence. Merely looking at him told me I would not like his idea. In fact, it sent waves of nausea through me.
“What, pray tell, would these so-called better options be?”
My voice was full of pent-up rage and fear, the rasp dangerously close to a growl. Finnick, despite his history of success upon the battlefield and the centuries of life he had lived beyond me, flinched. It took an immense amount of self-control not to flash a smug grin his way.
“The fae royals want their ward—their princess. While I would not dare suggest sending her back to become their weapon—”
“As you should not,” Lian hissed, Noe shaking with anger beside her. I did not move, did not remove my eyes from his. If I did, I might separate his head from his neck.
“—I would suggest that we rid ourselves of her while simultaneously sending a message.” The group went silent, eerily so. We all waited, hanging on to his every word. Waiting for him to dig his own grave. “Imagine the blow it would be to the fae if we returned their princess to them in bloody pieces. If we spit on them by taking their greatest advantage out of the equation? If we—”
Finnick did not have the opportunity to continue. I lunged for him, knocking over a small table that had held refreshments, wine and glass hitting the floor with a crash only moments before the gray-haired demon did.
I was atop him, my hands around his neck as I smashed his head down onto the hard stone below. Once, twice, three times, I shoved him into the ground, his skull cracking upon the final blow. He wailed in agony, the pain likely excruciating.
Not enough. Never enough.
My hand lit up in black flames, the fire somehow both hot and cold. Finnick’s screams amplified as I shoved my hand into his chest, ripping free his heart with ease.
Abruptly, the male went silent, his eyes and mouth opened wide in terror. I stood, holding his still beating heart in my hand—blood dripping to the ground to mix with the glass and wine below. With great satisfaction, I leaned down and spit on his corpse. Then I turned to face the still-silent group. Horror filled the eyes of all but Noe, Lian, and Damon. It had been a long time since I had acted so unstable.
I squeezed his heart one final time before slamming it onto the model of Alemthian, blood splattering all of our faces. Noe cursed while Lian scoffed in protest, but the rest of the council flinched and remained silent. I slowly moved my eyes across all of them, making sure they each saw my coming threat for the truth it was.
“I will paint the world in blood before I allow anyone to touch the princess— my princess. She will be your queen, at my side for the remainder of my life. And, when the day comes that the late Queen Solei’s obsidian crown rests upon her head, you will all bow down to Asher Daniox.”