DemiDemonDarla

Chapter 22: Demon King's Confession

>>>>> The tension inside the Demon King's throne room was thick enough to cut with a blade. Torches burned with black fire along the obsidian walls, casting jagged shadows across the room. Darla stood rigid before King Aamon, her mind a chaotic mess. The words of Felonir still echoed in her head, stirring doubts about everything she thought she knew. Zion was at her side, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword.

Kazimir stood just behind them. Kazimir, usually lighthearted, seemed oddly quiet, his playful demeanor dimmed by the gravity of the moment. Darla's stern expression remained fixed, as if nothing in the world could rattle her. Well, almost nothing.

Before the Demon King could say anything, Zion spoke up, his tone sharp and impatient. "So, Your Majesty, care to explain why one of your demons just attacked Darla's family?"

Aamon's fiery eyes flicked toward Zion. For a moment, the room fell into an oppressive silence, as if the very stones in the walls held their breath. Zion met the king's gaze without flinching, his loyalty to Darla blinding him to the audacity of his words.

Just as Aamon's expression darkened, Zelphas, the Demon King's lieutenant and loyal advisor, stepped forward and smacked Zion on the back of his head.

"Ow!" Zion grumbled, rubbing the spot.

Zelphas scowled at him. "That's the Demon King you're talking to, fool! Even if your loyalty is obviously tied to Darla now, show some respect!"

Kazimir snorted, struggling not to laugh. "Yeah, Zion, don't forget—he's not just some demon with a fancy chair. He could, y'know, turn you into ash in half a second."

Zion rolled his eyes but kept quiet this time. Darla elbowed him in the ribs, muttering under her breath, "Idiot."

Aamon raised a hand, silencing the banter. "Enough. I will overlook your... enthusiasm, Zion, but only because I understand your concern."

The king straightened from his throne, his expression dark and heavy with regret. "Those were not my demons. They were rebels—traitors—posing as my soldiers to sow discord between us."

Zion muttered under his breath, "Still doesn't make it okay." Kazimir smothered another laugh, earning a glare from Zelphas, who clearly wished they could all take the situation a bit more seriously.

Aamon's eyes locked onto Darla's, and the gravity in his voice returned. "This rebellion is not about politics or power. It is personal—rooted in the mistakes I made long ago."

The king rose from his throne, his towering figure casting an ominous shadow over them. "You want to know the truth, Darla? Very well. It is time you understood the real reason for this rebellion—and why you were sent to the human realm."

Darla stiffened. This was what she feared most—confirmation of Felonir's words. Was she truly cast out because she was dangerous? Because she didn't belong in either the fairy or demon realms?

"From the moment you were born, you carried both darkness and light within you," Aamon began, his voice a deep rumble, each word filled with centuries of pain. "Your mother, Dianthe, and I defied both realms to be together. But our union was not without consequence."

He paused, his eyes flickering with something rare: regret. "The prophecy of your birth foretold a child who could either save or destroy the balance between the realms. You were destined to possess powers beyond imagination—powers that could make or break the order of this world."

Darla's heart pounded. She'd heard fragments of this prophecy before, but now it felt different, heavier. "So, you sent me away because you were afraid of me," she whispered bitterly.