Page 1 of Of Realms and Chaos

I

Act I

~ To Love ~

Prologue

Long ago, far longer than most remember, the Demon Realm known as Eoforhild had a family upon its throne. King Adbeel Ayad and Queen Solei Ayad had two younglings, a son and a daughter. An inseparable pair in their youth, Malcolm Ayad and Zaib Ayad loved each other dearly, just as all who met them did—though, that was true for every Honey Tongue.

Zaib in particular had an affinity for captivating the masses. As she grew and matured, the demon princess would find a passion for diplomacy. Many believed that, despite being the younger of the two, it was she who should be named heir.

Like most rivalries, the fight between the prince and princess began and ended with jealousy. With support for the princess growing, and his own wavering, Malcolm found himself in a precarious position. For how could he give up his claim to the throne he had been born to sit upon?

No, that simply would not do.

So when the royal family awoke one night to the cataclysmic shattering of the nearby Fae Realm known as Betovere, the prince did nothing. He merely waited, knowing his sister well enough to anticipate her next move. He had been correct in his assumptions.

The princess, so dedicated to peace and unification, offered to act as an emissary. She would travel to Betovere and form an alliance. It was her belief that uniting could prevent conflict in the future and, perhaps, change the world for the better.

King Adbeel disagreed vehemently. Pointless, he called it. Let them attack, let them start a war they could not win. What did it matter to them? Malcolm agreed. If not because war was a chance to prove himself, then simply because he enjoyed watching his sister lose.

Watching her embarrass herself with failure.

Years passed, then decades, then centuries, and the princess remained persistent. The attacks from Betovere were harsh, and many from both sides lost their lives in battle. The fae were far stronger than King Adbeel had believed, especially with their restricted breeding. Bloodlines remained pure, and the new fae born were stronger.

After three centuries had come and gone, the years growing bloodier and more uncertain, the king finally agreed. Zaib would take a team of highly skilled demons to Betovere to negotiate peace. Treaties would be signed, allegiances formed, and Eoforhild would be better for it.

What the princess did not account for was the strength of jealousy—of feuding. She did not consider how far her beloved brother would go to secure his claim.

That was, until he slit her throat.

Chapter One

Asher

The palace was something out of a fairytale.

As we drew closer, I could see that vines grew up the walls, painting the white and gray with tangled strokes of green. Lilies of the valley sprouted throughout the vast expanse of grass that covered the hillside leading to the towering gray gates. Large windows sporadically lined the structure, giving small glimpses of the interior.

I wondered how something as beautiful as this city could exist when the world around it was so ugly.

Bellamy remained silent beside me, our horses nearly touching as we rode up the path to whatever future he had so carefully cultivated. My own lies and hidden plans hung heavy in my mind, reminding me that I would be a hypocrite to hold his against him.

I would leave soon, prepared to fight the fae royals who had raised me, who had betrayed their realm and their ward. The crown and the kingdom would never be the same. I would make sure of that. Overthrowing them was our only hope of stopping the coming war between demons and fae before it started—before it decimated both realms and dragged the mortals down too.

Around us, the residents of The Royal City smiled and waved at their prince, not even the coming twilight stopping them from being outside and enjoying one another’s company. Younglings roamed the crowd. Joy radiated from them all, uplifting my own mood.

Would it ever not surprise me to see beings of all kinds gathered around, freely mingling? And would there ever be a time that the small voice in my head did not deem it wrong or dangerous?

Many stopped to stare at their prince, some of the younger ones chasing Bellamy—throwing flowers his way and requesting he give them a show. The prince obliged, sending flowers of black flame into the air. For one of the younglings, he offered a small whirlpool of water into her hand, laughing as it burst when he released it. Then the wind came, fluttering in our hair and ruffling our clothes. When vines lifted off houses and danced with the tiniest little male, cheers erupted. The others argued over who would get a turn next, pushing and shoving their way to the crown prince of Eoforhild.

A few of the grown demons seemed weary of me, as if they could sense that there was something off about my appearance. They were right to be afraid, right to cower. I was dangerous. But I did not wish hurt upon them. In fact, I wished to see them live a life without war threatening their peace.

One demon in particular seemed to stare straight into my soul. It was as if she was unable to take her eyes from my face, her brows furrowed in concentration. She looked rather young, about the same age as Mia or Ignazio—Nicola’s father. Intense gaze aside, it was her mind that set off my warning bells.

It cannot be her. She has long been rumored dead. No, this must be someone else. But why then, would she be with the prince? Why would she be here otherwise?

From that point on, I stared forward, ignoring them all. It seemed I was deceased. At least, according to demon gossip.

---