CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO (32)
The heavy wooden door closed softly behind Prince Damiel.
For a brief moment, he stood outside his chambers, his hand still resting on the handle.
Behind that door...
Reyna was safe.
Or at least, safer than she would ever be beside him tonight.
His expression returned to its usual calm indifference as he turned away, walking down the hall with Roan and Kael at his side.
Two palace guards stationed at the end of the corridor immediately straightened.
They struck a fist against their chests.
"Your Highness."
Damiel gave a slight nod as he continued walking.
"Increase the patrols around this wing."
"Double the men along the eastern and western corridors."
"Rotate them every hour."
"No one enters this section without permission."
The older guard nodded.
"As you command, Your Highness."
Damiel continued walking before adding, almost casually,
"And reinforce the outer perimeter. The northern walls have grown careless."
The two guards exchanged a quick glance.
It sounded like the ordinary caution of a commander preparing for war.
Nothing more.
Exactly as Damiel intended.
His orders never once mentioned Reyna.
Yet every one of them was meant to protect her.
---
As he descended the ancient stone staircase, servants immediately stepped aside.
Heads bowed.
Eyes lowered.
No one dared meet the gaze known throughout Avalon as the Ashes of Hell.
Damiel paid them no attention.
Respect born from fear was still respect.
Outside, the fortress courtyard had already come alive.
Rows upon rows of elite demon soldiers stood in perfect formation beneath the torchlight.
Armor gleamed like black steel beneath the moon.
Not a single voice broke the silence.
Waiting before them was the northern commander who had welcomed Damiel upon his arrival.
General Varos.
The warrior knelt upon one knee.
"Commander."
Damiel acknowledged him with a nod.
"Rise."
Varos stood immediately.
"We await your command."
Damiel's silver eyes swept across the assembled force.
Kael.
Roan.
Zaiel.
Varos.
And a hundred elite soldiers.
Every one of them watched him with complete confidence.
Not because he was royalty.
Because he had never led an army in defeat.
Damiel spoke only four words.
"We move. No beasts."
No one questioned the order.
Each demon understood immediately.
The beasts were swift...
But they were loud.
Tonight demanded silence.
The soldiers dissolved into shadows.
Bodies vanished from the courtyard one after another as they used their power.
Some leapt effortlessly across rooftops.
Others crossed impossible distances in a single step.
The night itself seemed to carry them north.
Damiel disappeared first.
The others followed.
---
Less than an hour later...
The abandoned warehouse came into view.
Moonlight bathed the ruined structure in pale silver.
Its cracked stone walls leaned with age.
Broken wooden beams jutted from the collapsed roof.
Vines had reclaimed much of the building.
It stood like the skeleton of a forgotten era.
Damiel raised one hand.
Instantly—
Every demon stopped.
Without a word, they dispersed into their assigned positions.
Archers concealed themselves among the trees.
Scouts melted into the darkness.
Elite warriors hid behind crumbling stone and dense undergrowth.
Only Damiel, Kael, Roan, Zaiel and General Varos remained near the base of the hill overlooking the warehouse.
Damiel's eyes never left the ruin.
"If he's here..."
"...this is where he'll reveal himself."
Silence answered him.
Then...
A low growl echoed through the forest.
Another followed.
Then another.
From every direction.
Leaves rustled.
Branches snapped.
Heavy footsteps shook the earth.
One by one...
The werewolves emerged.
Ten.
Twenty.
Fifty.
A hundred.
Massive bodies covered in coarse black and gray fur.
Rows of razor-sharp teeth glistened beneath the moonlight.
Strings of saliva dripped from their jaws.
Their heavy breathing echoed across the clearing.
Hungry.
Violent.
Every amber eye locked onto the demons.
General Varos slowly reached for his weapon.
"They're ready for battle..."
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"No..."
"They're expecting someone."
None of the wolves attacked.
Not one.
Instead...
They slowly moved aside.
Creating a path through the center of their ranks.
The forest grew impossibly quiet.
Then...
Two crimson eyes appeared within the darkness.
Unlike the wolves...
This presence inspired no hunger.
Only dread, the air became colder, and heavier, whoever this was is no ordinary presence.
The figure stepped forward slowly.
Tall.
Shrouded in darkness.
Its features remained hidden beneath a cloak of shifting shadows.
Only those crimson eyes burned beneath the hood.
The instant it appeared—
Every demon except Damiel dropped to one knee.
Agonized cries erupted across the battlefield.
"Aghhh!"
"My head!"
"It burns!"
Soldiers clutched their heads as a deafening, high-pitched ringing tore through their minds.
Kael held his head as he gritted his teeth, his eyes moving between Damiel and the werewolves, Incase a fight broke out.
Roan shook his head as he tried to shake it off, his eyes on Damiel, he wasn't going to leave him alone in this fight.
General Varos gritted his teeth, blood trickling from one ear before he, fell to his kneesz hand pressed tightly on his head.
Zaiel struggled to remain sane, the ringing made his vision blurry, as he looked at Damiel, but he fell on his knees too.
Only Damiel remained standing.
His silver eyes narrowed.
The ringing...
Never reached him.
Instead—
A voice echoed directly inside his mind.
"Interesting..."
Damiel's grip tightened around his sword.
Mind-link...
Only demons possessed such an ability.
Yet...
This presence was unlike anything he had ever encountered.
"Prince Damiel of Avalon"
The voice was calm.
Ancient.
Almost amused.
"I've waited a very long time for this meeting."