CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Night had already claimed the sky when Damiel returned to his chambers.
He had spent the entire day dealing with traitors—interrogations, verdicts, preparations. He had not eaten. He was more interested in seeing the person serving the food, than the food itself.
He walked to the bell and rang it once.
Soon, footsteps approach.
Reyna entered quietly, carrying the tray with steady hands. She quickly serve the food, as she felt his eyes on her the entire time. Damiel sat quietly, as she stood behind him, waiting, as she always did.
Damiel said nothing.
Yet he felt it—the weight in her presence. Her thoughts were heavy, crowded with images she could not erase. The kitchen scene, and Damiels words, as he left.
For a brief moment, he almost spoke.
Almost.
Instead, when he was done eating, he dismissed her with a single gesture.
Reyna bowed and took the dishes, as she left without a word.
Damiel sat on the edge of his bed afterward, staring at the floor, unsettled by how eagerly he had awaited her arrival. By how wrong it felt when she was gone.
His thoughts betrayed him, as his thoughts went to,
Her room.
That night.
The calm on her face as she slept—untouched, peaceful, unafraid.
Why did his demon stir whenever she was near?
Why did it circle, restless, hungry—protective?
He clenched his jaw and forced the thoughts away.
Reyna retired early that night.
Inez had sent her to rest, insisting she was only human, no matter what Avalon demanded of her.
Sleep came quickly—but it was not kind.
She dreamed of screams, Serapha fears, Damiel coldness, his silence towards her was more brutal than when he talked.
At sunrise, Reyna woke earlier than yesterday, she didn't want to cross path with the demons, when she got to the bathhouse, it was unusually, empty, and silent, but she was relieved, as she quickly took her bath.
She got dressed,combed her hair, and started heading towards the kitchen.
But the halls were silent.
No demons. No laughter. No footsteps.
Unease settled deep in her chest.
She got to the kitchen.
Every flame was low. Every voice hushed.
Inez stood waiting.
"Come, dear, let's go," Inez said gently.
"Where?" Reyna asked, fear already curling in her stomach.
"The execution grounds." Inez said casually, as Reyna stiffened.
They walked through ancient corridors and open stone paths until the land widened into an immense, open arena carved from black rock and bone.
It was old. Older than mercy.
Demons filled the ground—nobles, soldiers, council members. Demons, of every rank. The royal family occupied the high platform: the king, the queen, and the two eldest princes—Arkes and Vaelor.
A ripple passed through the crowd.
Damiel arrived.
The masses parted instinctively as he walked forward, his presence heavy enough to crush breath from lungs. He ascended the platform alone, his soldiers, Roan and Kael were already there, standing, awaiting his order.
Silence followed him.
"This gathering exists because I once showed restraint," Damiel said, his voice carrying effortlessly. "And that will never happen again"
He spoke of the betrayal. Of their greed. Of oaths broken of loyalty to both Avalon, and the throne. Of enemies invited beneath Avalon's roof.
As the crowd of Demons raged, as some spat on the traitors.
Then he ordered the traitors' families brought forward.
Screams erupted, as the demons eyes filled with regret, as they begged, and pleaded.
Reyna's hands shook where she stood, as she saw the scene unfold.
Damiel turned first to the werewolves.
He took up silver-steel forged with wolfbane.
The blade pierced through their hearts that could not die easily.
They screamed as the poison tore them apart—body and spirit ripping, shredding, unraveling. Bone cracked. Flesh burned. Their howls echoed until nothing remained but silence and smoke.
Then slowly Damiel walked towards the demon guard.
His resolve shattered when Damiel stood before him.
Damiel met his eyes.
Hell answered, as the crowd watched, Reyna thoughts went to the ship, when they had said, his eyes were infamous, known to be from the ashes of hell, indeed there was truly some truth in every rumors.
The flames erupted from within—veins glowing like volcanic fissures, skin splitting with molten light. His demon screamed as it was torn from his body, separated in agony.
Serapha screamed as Damiel looked at her, then at noble official, as they screamed in both agony and pain, not just them but their demon. Reyna couldn't look as she bowed her head, the screams, made her feel uncomfortable, she wanted to run, but she didn't dare.
Damiel did not blink.
When it was done, only husks remained—dry, empty remnants scattered across the stone.
"Leave their remains," Damiel said. "Let the vultures feast."
He turned to the Kael and Roan.
"Kill the rest."
The execution grounds drowned in screams, of the demons traitors family.
Damiel faced the crowd once more.
"Let this be remembered," he said coldly. "No bloodline, no title, no oath will shield traitors from Avalon's judgment."
His gaze found his stepmother, as she shifted uncomfortably, anger and hatred burning in her eyes.
It lingered.
Then he walked away.
Behind him, agony filled the air.
Reyna stood frozen, her heart pounding violently in her chest.
She did not know what terrified her more—
The cruelty she had witnessed.
Or the fact that part of her understood why he had done it.