Page 70 of Of Realms and Chaos

Wanting to be a hero had always felt impossible yet necessary. Now, as I watched the first bubble pop against Wrath’s ear, his screams were a grueling reminder that I would never win by being good. I was not born to be a golden victor bringing peace through kindness and morals. I had acknowledged it half-heartedly before, always pretending to be okay with the wickedness within but never letting go of the hope I could be—would be—better one day.

Better would leave us all lifeless on the forest floor, covered in dead leaves and staring up at a dull sky framed by bare branches. A pitiful excuse of an end for creatures as formidable as we were. What would these deaths tell the world? That even the strongest cannot win? That hope is useless?

That was the problem. We worshiped heroes as if their inability to do what was hard made them better than those deemed villains for not apologizing when they moved mountains to find their version of a happy ending. Maybe this made me more like Mia and Xavier than I wished to admit, but I was prepared to move this creature if she wanted to be a mountain blocking my way.

With gritted teeth and a vengeful heart, I pushed myself off the ground, refusing to let the weight of principles and long-dead dreams crush me. Now on my feet, I took one final heaving breath, and then I kicked open my mental gates, the golden bars shaking as they parted.

Every thought and feeling and soul within the city bombarded me at once, but unlike that time with Bellamy and his Trusted atop a mountain, I would not let them consume and break me again.

The bubbles retreated slightly, gathering together to form a silhouette of the female who once stood before us. She seemed to watch, waiting to see what I would do next. In response, I simply smiled, tasting that deeply rooted need for violence within me which roamed freely past the broken gates of my mind.

“Odd. You stand despite the bleak world that wishes you dead. One can only hope to never have such a misguided will to live.” I laughed at the contrast between her serene tone and depressing words, the sound far more threatening than it was inviting. Finally, the creature seemed to realize that I was just as dangerous as she was, those bubbles of hers growing and now dripping some sort of clear liquid.

“Since you seem so convinced life is not worth the effort, allow me to spare you another moment of it.” Before she could speak again—before she could so much as inhale—I dove into her mind, shredding the flimsy wall of bubbles that tried to block me out. With time being of the essence, I could not search through her head, though I did wish to better understand what and who she was.

Squeezing, I began walking forward, the creature’s body blurring back together and reforming into a mortal-like shape. She stilled in agony before crumpling to the ground in a series of convulsing movements, three of my steps spanning the entire ordeal. I continued to press, wanting to feel the way her mind shattered beneath my magic and did the bidding which I placed upon it.

For a moment, my heart ached as I watched her attempt to crawl away, but then she turned. I watched as she lifted her hand, and from it poured out a stream of the bubble-like substance. A gasp left my lips as Henry’s cries rang out, and then I was on top of her, the seconds in between a blur. My fists rained down on her—forcing her head to smash repeatedly into the ground—all while my magic sliced down her mind, carving out memories and thoughts and feelings. Leaving her hollow beneath me.

Blood as red as my own coated my knuckles as I beat into her again and again, my furious screams now the only thing I could hear.

It was Wrath who pulled me off, his teeth latching onto my hair and yanking me backwards. I hit the ground hard, dirt and pine needles digging into my festering wounds. All at once, the torturous shards of pain returned, obliterating every ounce of anger I had and replacing it with suffering.

“Why fight against a death that will bring you the peace you were not given in life?”

The creature’s peculiar and gloomy words were the last thing I heard before my screams rang out and the world went black.

***

“What a treat.”

Gods, not him again.

Padon chuckled, his cold breath tickling my cheek. It felt, as always, almost distant. Like I was absent from my body. Eyes fluttering open, I watched as a world of gray came into focus. For the second time since I left Betovere, I awoke in a bed that was not mine with a male staring at me.

Except this time, the male was entirely nude.

“Do you possess no shame?” I asked, shoving him away from me. He placed his hand atop mine, forcing it to remain on his chest.

He was broader than I had thought, his blue-tinted skin hiding none of the muscle below. In fact, I was fairly sure he was flexing. Males were exhausting.

“Not that I’m aware of. Definitely not with you, my love.” His voice was a purr, vibrating against my palm which he still held in place. I offered him a smile, doing everything I could to shield my thoughts. When I allowed my eyes to land on his full lips, Padon’s answering sigh sent a wave of his scent my way, smelling of whisky and leather. Equally as annoying, but I maintained my façade, leaning my chest forward slightly.

When the supposed emperor snaked one hand around my waist and the other behind my neck, I struck. The punch was not impressive, but it did send his head careening back. His pain gave me an opening to slip off the bed, wrapping my body in the gray quilt atop the matching gray sheets.

When I was on my feet, I scowled down at him, the blue blood leaking from his nose not enough to bring a smile to my face.

“Why am I naked?” The question was laced with disdain but little surprise. I had learned that Padon was a creature that asked for nothing and took everything. He was the opposite of Bellamy in that way.

“I can’t hear your thoughts anymore. Magnificent. You learn so fast.” When he stood, the sheet fell, revealing the rest of Padon’s body. Because I could not help myself, I looked down, seeing that he was just as excited as he sounded. “If you keep looking at me like that, Asher, I will take you against that door you are heading for.”

Pausing my slow path to the closest door, I tightened my arms around the quilt, trying to hide as much of my body as I could. “Touch me against my will, and I will kill you.”

Padon’s smile was patronizing, as if there was something about what I said that was particularly humorous. It made my teeth grind and my fists tighten, nails biting into my skin. Oh yes, I would kill him someday.

“Touch me, and I will never come back.” Unlike the threat of death, this one stuck.

Padon froze in his pursuit, white eyes wide with what looked like genuine fear. The hesitation gave me time to take in the room around me.

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