Page 74 of Of Realms and Chaos

“To Pike. We cannot have you looking for allies anymore. You need to train, to prepare. This will not just be hard physically but mentally as well.” Henry’s voice came from somewhere beside us, but all I could see was Asher—her furrowed brows and small frown and the streaks of lightning that seemed to break the storm in her eyes.

Perhaps I could ignore Pino’s warning and simply tell her how limited our time was. Maybe the secrets could come to an end and we could exist together before we were ripped apart.

“I am not going to Pike. I need to find allies. I need to convince the mortals that we are worth fighting for. Why would I go to Eoforhild when I am not done yet?” She sounded genuinely confused, as if us wanting her to come back with us was a ridiculous notion.

To her, it was. She could not fathom a world in which one would think of themselves because life to her was about serving. For years, she was told that her worth was measured in success—in blood and fear and pain. She was taught to sit, be still, and speak in the same way a hound was. She did not know how to be selfish, because she was brainwashed into being self-sacrificing.

She thought herself a wicked curse, yet she refused to accept any outcome that did not result in her saving Alemthian.

And what would that make me if I forced or coerced her into following my whims? I was neither her captor nor her ruler, and she was not my servant or my possession. Asher could not—would not—be belittled in such a way again. She ached for freedom, and there was no world in which I would be the one to steal it from her once more.

“Okay, then you stay. But you will be adding one to your little gang of heathens.” Asher sighed, offering a sad smile as if she were prepared to let me down gently. I smirked at her, lightly flicking her nose before portaling away.

When I landed in Farai’s quarters, he did not so much as scream. After three weeks of being with us, the fae had grown used to our habits—or antics as he would call them.

“Ah, the demon prince with a penchant for abduction. How may I help you tonight?”

I chuckled at his insolence, which I greatly admired. His bright white hair was wet, the black tunic and trousers airy and light for the spring heat. He had been training with our army daily, the only thing he did more than spar was annoy Lian and ask for Asher.

“Ready to see Ash?” I asked, leaning against the wooden doorframe and crossing my arms. Farai sat up, launching himself off the small bed so quickly that it let out a loud creek in protest. When he tossed the book he was reading to the ground and rushed at me, I laughed, reaching out my hand.

To his credit, Farai did not hesitate to take it, nor did he do so much as gasp at the tearing feel of portaling. When we landed back in the small forest, the fae did buckle slightly, but he recovered quickly, his head whipping back and forth in search of his friend.

She stood near the whisp that was still unconscious on the ground, but it was Ranbir she looked at. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her. At first, Ash did not move, seemingly too surprised to act. But then she took a deep breath and returned the hug. Ranbir’s shoulders sagged, his head falling forward. He had not confided in anyone since the loss of his wife, not so much as crying in front of us after that day.

That was the thing about Asher. She was someone that everyone wanted to like. It was difficult not to find joy in her presence, to feel the pull of her power, or to fall for her awe-inspiring desire to be better. She was brilliant and cunning and loving. So it made sense that Ranbir would finally fall apart in her arms.

My hand lifted, stopping Farai from moving towards her. “Let them have a moment.”

When the two separated, Asher stared into Ranbir’s eyes, so clearly communicating with her magic. A bone-chilling shake raked through Ranbir before he stepped further back, giving a small nod. Like nothing happened, he crouched down and began inspecting the female on the forest floor.

Noe beat us to her, skipping towards my princess with a smile that crinkled her eyes while her hair blew in the breeze behind her. Asher laughed as Noe reached out, the two of them quickly embracing before they began to whisper softly to one another. I could just make out my name before Cyprus walked to them and pecked Asher’s forehead, Luca following not far behind and wrapping her in a tender hug.

Then, as if she could sense us, Asher turned.

One day, I would paint this scene. I would capture the beauty of friends reuniting—of a love so deep it had engraved itself into the soul. The way the two of them stared at one another, not so much as breathing, was something poets only hoped to convey through words.

Tragedy was a unique sort of lovely, like a dying flower or a shattered glass vase—broken things that held a foreboding intrigue. But the healing that comes from tragedy? That sort of magnificence could not be recreated or explained.

And so we all watched as Asher ran, crossing the distance in seconds before launching herself forward. Farai did not hesitate, opening his arms to catch her. She wrapped herself around him and sobbed onto his shoulder as he laughed, his own tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

They stayed that way for a while, just breathing the other in. I smiled, feeling as if I had finally done something right. Looking at Noe, I nodded my head. She offered a sad smile before grabbing onto Lian, Cyprus, and Luca, the four of them disappearing in a cloud of shadows. Henry watched them go then made his way to Ranbir, bending down beside him and further discussing the whisp’s magic.

To my dismay, the dalistori came and sat by my feet. I groaned, wishing I could kick the damn thing and never see it again. Sadly, he was not going anywhere any time soon. Asher had told me that it believed they were meant to find one another, which apparently required the thing to never leave her side.

“That one looks odd,” Wrath said, the sound of his voice making me even more uncomfortable than his horrifying yellow eyes. I stepped away, putting some distance between us. He watched me, then, with a chilling smile, closed the space once more. As if that were not enough, he began to grow, his height soaring to my chest before suddenly stopping. “Do not be scared, little fae prince. I will not bite.”

I glared at him, trying to feign annoyance to hide the utter shock I felt at the fact that he knew what I was. Could he smell it on me? Did he know more than he was letting on? What if he knew how to get the magic out of me?

“Wrath, what do you know about magic being infused into someone?” My casual tone and folded arms were a terrible attempt at nonchalance, which the dalistori clearly saw through based on his amused expression.

“You wish for your veins to be clean once more, princeling.” Not a question. Haughtiness filled his tone, but beneath that, there was some sort of solemness as he stared at Asher. She had her forehead pressed against Farai’s, the two of them talking in hushed excitement. “One day, those wards of yours will fail, and I do not believe much more of her can be chipped away without her becoming nothing but a shell.”

“What about hers? How do we stop it? Do we even need to?” I asked, practically begging for some sort of answer to a question I have had since I met Pino at Reader River. But even he did not know—no one did. Wrath squinted his eyes, sniffing the air as if he could sample her magic.

“I do not know. She is strange, and I do not fully understand it. But she is mine, and I will not let even my god take her. I will protect her, princeling, trust that.”

My smile returned in full force. I might not like the vermin, but he did care for Asher. Even if it was in his own odd way, I could count on the psycho to keep her safe.

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