Page 140 of Of Realms and Chaos

“Charming as ever.” I regretted the slight when she let her piercing blue eyes stray to the ground, and I found myself offering my hand to shake. Lara looked at it, touched my palm with one finger, and then proceeded to shamelessly stare at me in contemplation. “Good to see you again, bubbles.”

Turning to face the other female, I noted that she had the exact same russet skin and deep hazel eyes as Cyprus. Even her hair, which barely passed her chin, was the soft brown of his. “You must be Ray. Cyprus has told me so much about you.”

“Yes, I am. Wow, I cannot believe I am talking to you right now. You know, Lara and I planted a whole patch of vanilla in her garden just for you. I think you will really like it. I am also great at decorating! I can get you your own room if you would like space from Prince—I mean General—Bellamy. Not that he is not good to be around, which he is—not that I desire to be with him. I am very much so not interested. Of course, he is quite handsome, not that I look at him that way. You are handsome, too. I mean, beautiful. Not that I look at you that way. I do not mean to sexualize you both. I just mean that sometimes it can be nice to have space, or I can find you two a bigger room?”

Did she breathe? Ever?

“Ray, stop, you do not have to worry about offending me. Please, breathe.” I laughed, watching as she bent forward and let her hands rest on her knees as she gasped for air. Her outfit consisted of brown trousers that fit tightly around her waist but slowly flared out as they went down, a thicker material than casual wear but also not nearly as thick as the fighting leathers Bellamy’s Trusted favored. On her upper half, she wore a white top made of what looked almost like yarn, the string braided together in multiple rows, wrapping around her upper body and sporting no sleeves or straps.

“Would you care to dance, Asher? Perhaps give Ray a break from panic attacks for a bit?” Damon’s voice was gentle as always, his outstretched hand calling attention to the navy silk top he wore which fit perfectly to his toned chest. Was it bad that I compared everyone to Bellamy? That my eyes and mind seemed to agree that no one would ever compare?

“Hey, now,” Henry interjected, smacking Damon’s hand away from me and quickly grabbing me by the shoulders. “I called dibs. Wait your turn.”

Damon laughed, saluting as Henry guided me to the center of the dance floor. I joined in, feeling so blissful and free and, for once, calm. Henry took my hand, placing it on his shoulder before gripping my other one tightly and beginning our dance. Like most things, he was excellent at it, taking a much more technical approach than Farai had.

“My mother likes you, which possibly means that my fear of world domination held more merit than even I thought.” His eyes strayed to his left, and I found my own following, catching sight of Odilia. She loomed near a table with various beverages, her gaze unabashedly glued to us as we wove through the other dancing couples. Leaning closer, he whispered, “If she did not desire a strong queen, then she likely would have forced me to court you by any means necessary.”

“Ah, well, unfortunately for Lady Odilia, I am quite picky. I fear I could not get past the orange hair.” Together, we laughed conspiratorially, our dance skills so evenly matched that I lost count of how many songs passed before Bellamy was there, catching me at the tail end of a rather dramatic spin. Henry released me, allowing Bellamy to wrap me in his arms and utilize the momentum to maintain time with the beat.

“It has been too long since we danced, Princess.” He purred the words through a dashing smirk, all the pride of a cocky prince upon his face.

Unlike his friends, Bellamy’s presence against me left my mind spinning right along with my body. The press of his hand on my waist, a position choice far more respectful than I would have expected, was like a current. It dragged my heart and my mind away from the present, carrying me towards the image of a future I longed for. Every slight graze of my chest against his stomach was a ballad, the keys of the piano pressing down to craft a song all our own. One that would exist forever in the ethers, among the stars as they danced along.

“It has, Prince.” It was the only response I could muster, but I knew by the softening of his eyes that he understood what my gravelly voice meant. Once again, it was like he had magic of the mind, rather than me.

“I love you, Asher.”

“And I love you, Bellamy.”

Henry’s bright hair came into view again, and for some reason, my eyes felt the urgent need to look his way. I watched as he jolted forward, nearly knocking over a table, as if someone had struck him. With a gasp, he looked up at us, mouthing two words before he disappeared in rays of light.

Section five.

Bellamy pulled me tighter to him, and then we portaled too, arriving in a sort of meadow. The green grass and vibrant yellow flowers were made dull in the night, giving the entire scene an eerie quality. But it was not the darkness that I feared in that moment.

Henry stood a few feet away, holding out his palm with light seeping from him. For a moment, I stared on, confused at his display of magic. Then, from the thick stream of light, Genevieve appeared.

Silence threatened to reign over us, a firm dictator prepared to steal our voices for all of eternity. But the mortal princess fought bravely against it, stuttering out a string of sentences that would drop the shoe I had been grimly waiting for.

“My parents, they—they were too scared to take your offer. I—I came to—to warn you. The fae know where you are. They know, and they are coming. Please understand I did not mean for this to happen. I just wanted my brother back!”

Henry grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “Where are they coming to? Pike? Haven? How many are they bringing?”

His panicked questions seemed to slam into Genevieve, like it pained her to hear them. She flinched with each syllable, her eyes shut tightly.

“Of course they know where we are. Malcolm would be aware of where nearly everything is. Not much has changed in the last three hundred years. Why now? What would your parents’ information truly tell them?” Bellamy’s questions were rhetorical, his words mostly spoken to himself as he thought out loud in a slightly rattled voice.

When Genevieve looked to me, desperation forming tears in her soft brown eyes, I realized it was not necessarily us in danger. I knew how Xavier thought, the ways in which he plotted and planned. He was smart, strategic, and strong. If he could hurt us indirectly, plant seeds of doubt and tear us apart from within, then he would.

“They are going to attack a mortal kingdom who sided with us. That is why they needed to know where we were. They wanted us to be away so the mortals would be unprotected.” Matter of fact. That was how my words sounded. Because I knew I was right, and as Genevieve nodded solemnly, I felt how true my next words were, too. “Behman. They are going for Behman.”

Chapter Forty-Five

Asher

In all my life, I had never thought that the sight of blood would be something I grew used to. Yet there I stood—looking on as mortals and demons fell at the hands of fae, and vice versa. Witnessing the overly green kingdom become a river of red.

My hand dug into the hilt of one of my daggers, rage clouding my vision. I caught sight of a Shifter dragging a mortal with its teeth, the man screaming for help. That was all it took for me to move. The dagger left my hand without a sound, soaring through the air and finding purchase in the bear’s open mouth as it released the limp body. Gurgling roars filled the air, my dagger protruding from the back of the Shifter’s throat.

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