CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR (24)
Damiel stood over the long oak table in the war chamber of his castle, his hands braced against its edge. Before him lay a detailed map of the Kingdom of Avalon, its borders marked in dark ink, its regions outlined with precision. Wooden markers were scattered across the parchment, but most of them were clustered at the southern edge of the kingdom.
Kael and Roan stood on either side of him, their attention fixed on the same spot.
News had arrived only hours earlier.
The southern territories—a smaller, lesser-defended region of Avalon—had been attacked. Fields were torn apart, livestock slaughtered, storehouses burned. The demons stationed there were few, and now they were being overwhelmed by packs of werewolves.
It was bad news. Very bad.
The werewolves were taking revenge.
Their beta—and others of their kind—had been killed by Damiel's own hand. Executed publicly. The werewolves were a prideful race; doing nothing would have been an admission of weakness, an insult they would never accept.
"They attack the weakest part of the kingdom instead of facing you directly," Kael said coldly, his sharp eyes trained on the southern border. "How pathetic."
"They know better than to challenge Prince Damiel head-on," Roan added, a smirk playing on his lips. "So they lash out where it hurts less. A weak attempt at revenge."
Damiel said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the map.
The attack felt… deliberate.
Too deliberate.
It was as though they were trying to draw him out—luring him away from the heart of Avalon. An open challenge, not likely. A provocation, maybe.
He wondered what would come out of it this time.
"I won't take many men," Damiel finally said. "Too much movement will attract attention."
He straightened. "We do this quietly."
Kael and Roan looked at him, listening.
"Prepare the beasts," Damiel ordered. "They're faster. No carriages."
A brief pause.
"Just the two of you."
His thoughts flickered—to the new trainee. Skilled. Promising. Loyal, perhaps… but loyalty needed to be tested.
"And bring the new trainee along," Damiel added. "This will test his strength—and his allegiance."
Kael and Roan bowed deeply in unison. "As you command."
A knock sounded at the chamber door.
"Come in," Damiel said.
A royal guard demon entered and knelt on one knee with a bow.
"Report."
"The King, requests your presence in the throne room."
Damiel dismissed him with a wave.
He turned back to his men. "Go prepare. We leave before dawn tomorrow."
"Yes, Commander," they chorused, retreating from the room.
MAIN CASTLE
By the time Damiel reached the maincastle, night had already fallen. Torches flickered along the stone corridors as guards and servants bowed low at his passing, holding their positions until he disappeared from sight.
He entered the throne room without ceremony.
King Eldron stood over a table identical to the one in Damiel's war chamber, the same map of Avalon spread before him.
Damiel did not bow, as always.
Instead, he sat down opposite the throne with casual defiance, which unbothered king Eldron, afterall he was used to this type of behavior from him.
"I've received word about the southern territories," Eldron said without turning. "Do you have any strategic plans yet?"
Damiel studied his father carefully.
The werewolves were prideful—but they were not foolish. Attacking Avalon's south so openly without strong backing made little sense. The first attack might have been for power. The second, however, was far too bold, especially just few days after the execution.
And Damiel trusted no one here—not his father, not his brothers, and certainly not his stepmother.
If there was a deeper scheme at play, he would uncover it himself.
"I'll handle it," Damiel said flatly. "There's no need to involve you in my affairs."
Eldron turned slowly, fury sharpening his features. "I am the King of Avalon. That makes me your king." He said, his eyes bright with fury, his aura pressed down hard.
Any other demon would have trembled.
Damiel merely smirked.
He rose and walked toward Eldron, stopping just short of him.
"You may be the king of Avalon, but you will never be my king," Damiel said quietly, dangerously, "and you may rule Avalon,but you can never command me." Damiel said his silver eyes cold and icy.
He brushed past his father and opened the doors.
Behind him, Eldron stood shaking with rage.
DAMIEL CASTLE
When Damiel returned to his own castle, the night was deep and silent.
He went straight to his chambers.
Kael and Roan appeared from the shadows almost instantly.
"All is ready, Commander," Kael said as they bowed.
"Good," Damiel replied. "Tell no one else about this journey."
"Yes, Commander."
They vanished as swiftly as they had come.
Left alone, Damiel's thoughts drifted—unbidden—to Reyna.
She had looked afraid of him earlier. Truly afraid.
He hadn't planned on returning so soon. He hadn't intended to see her again before leaving.
But the thought of departing without seeing her face unsettled him.
He rang the bell once.
REYNA
Reyna nearly dropped the knife in her hand when the bell echoed through the kitchen.
She had been relieved when Damiel left earlier with the carriage, convinced he wouldn't return that night. Now her heart pounded as she steadied her shaking hands, Inez had handed her the tray a moment ago, it felt heavier than usual, and the tray was wider, she wondered if he ordered more side dishes.
She stopped outside his chamber door and raised her hand to knock.
"Come in."
She heard Damiel usual cold voice, she inhaled deeply and stepped inside.
Damiel sat waiting, already seated at the head of the table. His gaze followed her every movement as she walked towards the table, which made it harder for her to walk straight, her hands trembling despite her efforts to control them.
He frowned briefly—but his expression quickly returned to its usual cold mask.
She put the food down and was about to serve him, when he said
"I'll do it myself", her hands paused mid air as she moved to stand beside him, his voice stopped her again.
"From now on," he said, "when we are alone, you sit with me, and you eat with me."
Reyna froze.
Shock rippled through her, but she nodded anyway. Resistance was meaningless.
Was this truly the same Prince Damiel the rumors spoke of? The demon who burned faces and executed without mercy?
She sat beside him.
Prince Damiel opened the tray in front of him.
Inez had served him two serving—as though she had anticipated this moment. That explains the change of tray, and why it felt heavier. Reyna wondered if Damiel had told her beforehand.
She quickly stood up to help him dish the food, it was her duty afterall, and she didn't feel comfortable doing nothing.
Damiel didn't understand what he was doing.
He despised weakness.
And Reyna was human, a weaker one at that.
Yet something about her drew him—made him want her close. Made him want to protect her. Just as Azaelth always did, something he didn't also understand.
He watched her eat slowly, carefully, knowing her thoughts lingered on earlier events.
He wanted her to feel comfortable.
He didn't know how, and he didn't want to bring up the topic either, he opened his mouth and blurted.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said suddenly.
She looked up, meeting his eyes directly. Her expression was unreadable.
The next words that left his mouth—shocked them both.
"And you're coming with me." he stated.
Reyna blinked.
She didn't like the idea of him leaving—but the thought of staying behind frightened her more. Especially with Vaelith's lingering glances growing bolder by the day, but going with him, she didn't want to be a liability.
Damiel spoke quickly, as if to justify himself.
"You are my personal slave. It's your duty to follow your master wherever he goes."
It was true—yet incomplete.
Reyna was his first slave. He never brought servants on missions; they were liabilities. He and his men needed no one.
But Reyna was different.
He didn't want her alone, he knew Inez would have been a perfect candidate to keep her safe, but it was also a perfect excise he told himself to justify bringing her with him
She bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."
"Pack a few clothes," he said. "We leave before dawn."
"Yes, Your Highness", she said as she paused, seemingly remembering something, I'll pack yours now, your Highness", Reyna said trying to stand up
She moved to rise, but Damiel caught her hand.
A shock surged through him—sharp and alive.
Their eyes met.
Reluctantly, he released her, though every instinct screamed to hold on longer. Azaelth's presence stirred, urging him, taunting him.
"Am done packing," Damiel said quickly. It was a lie. He simply didn't want her to leave his side, yet.
They sat in silence, for the rest of the dinner, damiel stealing glances, Reyna mind preparing her for the next day events.
When she finished clearing the table, she bowed again.
"Tell no one," he said. "I'll inform Inez myself."
She nodded and left.
In her room, Reyna quickly packed her things, as she lay down, quietly and soon she fell asleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. She thought.
Damiel did not sleep.
He paced his chamber, restless.
She was supposed to be a human, his slave, but now he wasn't so sure if she was even human.
How could one person hold such power over him?
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the darkness, the question echoing endlessly in his mind.
"Who really are you Reyna?", he asked quietly into the dark, staring into space.