Page 149 of Of Realms and Chaos

“Oh, I have something much better than a pitch. Go to Jesre and tell her to ready Likho. Provide him with Asher’s location once you find her. I want to give my future queen a gift.”

With that, the holder of Death and Creation walked away.

Chapter Fifty

Henry

My heart raced and my head swam as I stumbled my way through the infirmary. Every step felt like walking through sludge, the hollowness in my chest like a black hole seeking energy to replace the magic I had depleted.

Still, I pushed on, seeking out those faces that would tell me my family was okay. The once-white room was drenched in dirt and blood, screams and cries echoing—reverberating death, a reminder that I fucking failed.

Asher’s magic still whispered into my ear, as if I could not quite shake it from my mind. She had shattered my shields so easily, leaving me a weak and pathetic lump of flesh and bone in the mud. Stella save us all when she comes in here. This loss would devastate her more than any of us, as every death did.

My eyes landed on Noe, her body hunched forward but relatively unscathed. She was taking on a slightly green hue and her head seemed to sway back and forth. We would all suffer for taking it so far. Magic was not priceless, and we were paying every coin one by one.

A medic held down Queen Shah, her writhing body forcing another demon to come and help. A gash on her cheek oozed red, the one across her stomach revealing insides that I did not know the name of. Despite the agonizing pain she had to be in, the queen still screamed demands. “Get off of me! That is my kingdom! I am a queen! I will save them or die on the soil I was born upon! Get off of me!”

Her shrill shouts drew the attention of Lian, who was not far away holding the hand of a mortal male who was quite clearly dead. Even when the Air got up and rushed towards Shah, I stared into the dead man’s unseeing eyes, my heart stuttering and my stomach turning. Gods, we had led so many to their deaths.

I stumbled on, looking for Bell or Ash, needing to see them alive and well. Bellamy had portaled to the battle already far more broken and bloody than he had been when I first lost consciousness. His arm hung limp at his side, his head sporting a barely healed gash. He was so far gone that I was surprised when he grabbed a sword and started efficiently tearing down fae after fae, doing more work than five of us demons combined. Whatever had him so enraged was clearly heavy, and since I had not found Ash…well, I needed to make sure I saw her annoying smile and heard her bratty voice.

Damon was off in the far right corner, Ranbir bent forward over a male I had never seen before. His long black hair was knotted and his cream tunic was stained red over his stomach. His pale skin was gray, as if he had been long dead when Ranbir began healing him. But I saw his chest rise and fall, which meant whoever the male was lived.

Aching joints protested within my legs as I walked on, making my way to the trio. Damon caught sight of me, walking quickly towards me and reaching for my arm to sling it over his shoulder. I was at least six inches taller than him, so he was forced to bear more of my weight than normal in order to assist me, but he did not complain as he walked us forward.

Ranbir’s power flowed into the male, an extraordinary sight I would likely never grow used to witnessing in real time. The gaping wound that looked like a clean jab of a sword slowly stitched together, the sides kissing one another hello. The Healer held on long after the completion of the process, bringing back the slightly pink tint of the male’s skin and healing what looked like chain marks upon his wrists and neck. When his eyes opened, revealing brown irises surrounded by red, we all flinched. The male shot up, groaning from the exertion but unwilling to rest as he scanned the area desperately. As he moved, his long black hair snagged behind his ear, revealing pointed tips.

A fae. This was a fae.

I drew my remaining dagger, moving in jerky spurts that had my knees hitting the edge of the bed and nausea free climbing up my throat. But I remained on my feet, pressing the tip of the blade into the male’s neck as I grabbed the sheets for balance. His already round eyes went wider, his shaking hands splaying as he lifted them in the air.

“Who are you? What is your power? Why have you come?” My questions spilled from my lips, slightly slurred from the magic depletion and the stab wound on my thigh I had not told anyone about. Ranbir’s tired eyes formed slits, scanning me up and down as if he knew. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist and pulling it away from the fae. I felt his power surge through me, stinging as it traveled to the wound on my thigh and slowly spread throughout my body.

The little shit always knew.

“I am Jasper Cromwell. I mean no harm. Asher, she is my best friend. She saved me. They—they brought me, and I could not help. I—I need my husband. Please, help me find him. We must leave—Ash—my Ash—please, I need to help her—I need—”

Damon’s hand swung out, connecting with the fae’s face and forcing it to whip left.

I smirked as Ranbir freed me, pointing his finger at Damon as if to scold him. But at least he knocked some sense into the rambling fool. A moment later, his words settled, and I realized what he was implying. I dropped my dagger, freeing my hands to grip onto the fae’s tunic.

“What do you mean she saved you and you could not help? Where is Asher?” I screamed the words into his face, my vision hazy but my voice strong as I shook the male.

Ranbir began shouting for Farai, Damon’s hypocritical ass trying to tug me away from Jasper, but I could do nothing other than attempt to force the answers from the idiot before me. Jasper did not fight back, instead letting tears fall down his face as he seemed to welcome my rage.

Farai’s yelled pleas could suddenly be heard, begging me to let go of his husband as he ran our way. When I did not let go, a flash of pale and brown skin came barreling towards me. The Shifter’s body collided with mine, sending us both to the ground. I maintained my hold on his husband, bringing him down with us. More shouting ensued, somehow louder than the shrieks of the injured and dying. I released my hold with a hiss of pain as Farai slammed his elbow into my forearm.

“Bell! Bell!” He needed to know. I needed his help. Gods above, I sounded like fucking Jasper.

Farai rolled, getting on top of me and latching his hands around my throat. His face was wild, a sense of hopelessness and fear in his eyes that I had seen when we found his home empty. Fist swinging, I connected with his jaw, trying to get him off me so I could defuse the situation I had started. My magic did not so much as stir in my chest, the remaining dregs unwilling to let go when it meant my death. So I used my hands, striking him in the side and then bringing my knee up to slide my foot between us. I kicked out, sending him flying into a wall in between two occupied beds.

Fire erupted to my left, causing screams of panic to replace our grunts of exertion. Bellamy stood not five feet away, staring forward like he saw a ghost, the dead look in his eyes telling me that Asher was truly in trouble—or worse, dead.

“Bell?” I asked, rolling to my stomach and groaning as I pushed myself up to my knees.

Bellamy did not move, his hands still lit up in red and orange flames. We all gawked as he remained still, his injuries from the battle still unhealed and his Fire power forcing smoke into the air.

That was when I smelled it. There was no mistaking the scent of burning flesh, it was never something one freed themselves of.

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