Page 61 of Of Realms and Chaos

I watched him now, his eyes frantically searching the sea of bodies as if he were seeking something—or someone—in particular. He looked up at me when I stepped towards him, and he raised his sword. When I braced myself, ready to end the life of a male who had cared for my soulmate, the fae stopped. The world stilled as we stared at one another, Farai’s eyes wide in recognition. And then I remembered that he had been there during the ball—he had seen me.

“She is safe.” I feared my shout would not be heard over the sounds of battle raging around us, but somehow, he heard. Farai seemed to think over my words, contemplating what he would do next if the furrowing of his brow and darting of his eyes was any indication.

Then I did something truly stupid. Something I could only blame on my foolish and obsessive heart.

I closed the distance between us, grabbed his arm, and portaled the Shifter away. When we landed in the dungeons of Pike, Farai fell to the ground, heaving violently.

“The pain of portaling will pass. I will be back for you soon.” He looked up at me in growing horror as shadows curled around me, the sight probably startling for someone who had never bore witness to Moon magic in action this way.

My feet moved from gray stone to orange sand, and I knew that even if I had done wrong by my realm, I had done right by Asher.

With Farai safe, I joined the fight once more, my back somehow meeting Damon’s as we fought off a perfectly paired group of Elements. They each used their power at just the right time, so in sync with one another that Damon and I were only able to defend ourselves in the beginning. When the Water summoned far more than he could handle on his own, I latched onto the opportunity, stealing it from the air.

“Duck, now!” Damon did not hesitate to follow the command, falling to the ground as I heated the water into a searing steam, shoving my hands forward and spinning in a circle. The water burned all four of them, bubbling the skin on their faces and hands. Their melting flesh permeated the air with a nauseating smell, especially as the sun bore down on us with unrelenting heat.

As the fae fell in agony, their screams mixing with those in battle and making my teeth grind, my eyes locked on a lone figure in the distance. Even without my fae sight I would have known him. He was so uncannily similar to me that it was like looking in a mirror, a reflection staring back at me.

Xavier Mounbetton kept a slow pace as he made his way to the battlefield, his shoulder-length black hair waving in the breeze, the color and waves the same as mine—as was the dimple on his cheek that appeared with his smile.

My resentment grew at the sight of him, at his grace and strength, at our likeness. Every bit of my sense left me, and I portaled again, the shadows bringing me mere feet away from my father.

King Xavier’s armor was not gold, but instead black with a golden shield on his chest that had the symbol of Eternity engraved into the center. His pale skin was taking on a pink hue, likely from the sun, though he would probably heal faster than he would burn.

His steps stilled when he noticed me, head cocking to the side. Just as mine did. I ground my teeth together at the sight.

“Well, she was right. We were foolish not to see it before.” His voice was deep, our accents mercifully different—nurture winning against nature. We were so close that I could make out the brown of his eyes, amusement crinkling them at the corners.

“I do not believe your inability to recognize me makes the list of your top ten idiocies, perhaps not even the top twenty.” Despite the pride I knew was there lurking beneath the calm facade, Xavier did not take my bait. Instead, his smile broadened.

“My son, you turned out so handsome. Tell me, what does Asher think of your looks? Does she find them…familiar?” All of my stoicism threatened to retreat at the sound of her name on his lips. I wanted to cut his tongue from his mouth so he could never again utter those two syllables. Then I would cut off his hands, penance for putting them on her time after time.

Patience tried and failed to win out, my body lighting up in flames—his flames. But Xavier moved quickly and without remorse, stealing them from my body and tripling them. With a wink, he formed the fire into a ball and threw it into the battle. I screamed, trying to call the flames back to me. Before I could, Xavier jumped onto me, shoving my face into the sand over and over. Grains of it filled my mouth and nose, and I was forced to push him off of me with a violent gust of wind.

My eyes burned from the tiny grains that seemed to slice into them, that pain worse than my aching throat and running nose. I willed water to rush out of them, flushing out the sand. When the burning stopped and my vision did not immediately return, panic almost loomed, threatening to overtake me. But the healing began, my fae heritage coming in handy as the battle before me slowly came back into view.

Fae and demons alike shouted as their bodies caught flame, the fire burning all it touched. I forced myself to my feet, stumbling at the dizziness that came from my head wound.

They needed my help. I had to move. I had to get to them. I had to—

This time, Xavier’s body barreled into mine so hard we flipped over one another, both of us hitting the sand hard enough to knock the wind from our lungs. Gasping, we looked at each other, neither of us willing to walk away until the other was dead.

Digging my fingers into the desert below, I closed my eyes and demanded obedience. A tremor came, small at first, then large enough to knock soldiers down. Damon did not hesitate, shadows surging towards the cloudless sky, crafting the demon sigil in the air. Screams of retreat echoed across the blazing terrain, those who could portal grabbing as many as they could in flashes of light and shadow—white and black.

The fae soldiers yelled, trying to make chase, cutting down as many as they could. My focus went back to Xavier, who was staring at the shifting sand below him. This time, it was I who smiled, watching with delight as the ground beneath him began to part.

“Goodbye, father. May Eternity damn you to the Underworld where you belong.”

He shouted, begging for someone to help. The remainder of the fae lined up in the distance charged forward, coming towards me. The group making chase halted, a commanding voice demanding they turn around and save their king.

Perhaps this was the future Pino had seen, maybe Asher would find my dead body here and sob over it. If my time had come, then at least I was able to take Xavier down with me. I thought of all the times he beat Asher into unconsciousness, each instance where he belittled her, and I roared with fury.

But just as he was about to sink fully, his screams becoming muffled by the sand, a puff of black appeared in the hole, a demon walking out of it. His mahogany hair and black eyes were the very same as that of the male whose painting hung on Adbeel’s wall in his office.

“Malcolm?” The baffled question came out as a whisper, my eyes growing wide. The lost prince, the one I had assumed was killed by the same royals who had slaughtered the lost princess. The very princess whose death Pino had shown me over a year ago. How had I not noticed it was him in Haven?

Malcom looked up, flashing me a smile before he grabbed onto Xavier and disappeared in another burst of shadows. The demon prince, the true one, just rescued our enemy.

But I did not have time to think, not when every single gold-clad soldier charged me, the mass of warriors quickly closing in. My mind swam with too much knowledge, too many secrets invading my senses.

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