Queen of Ash

𝒟𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔

Alexander slammed his fist into his opponent's gut, sending him down onto his knees. The few spectators roared, slamming their mugs of beer onto the tables, chanting for more. They loved him, they loved the way he crushed his opponents, leaving them to bleed to death on the floor.

But instead of looking for a fight, Alexander had come for information. Information about the king's mate. His prey. The Dark King promised great sums of money for whoever brought her back. Alive.

But the minute Alexander had walked into the tavern searching for information, an arrogant male had approached him, desperate to prove himself worthy. So Alexander fought, barely using any energy at all. His mind always wondered about his companion Rhoe and if he'd found her yet.

Alexander remembered that day so well. Rhoe and he had been sparing in the nearby clearing, shooting ice and darkness at each other. Rhoe always won but he kept teaching Alexander ways to improve himself, to become more than he was.

There had been ripples of darkness before the king had appeared, his ebony eyes piercing. With a crown made out of gold and dark flames atop his head, he'd strode over to the two battling warriors. He remembered his majesty's words as he grabbed the arrogant Fae's hair and smashed his head on the table. Once. Twice.

I have news, my warriors. I have once again found my mate. She'd been hiding in the mortal realm, across the border, past Misthaven. Find her and bring her back to me. Alive. I've already ordered all my warriors to find her but you, my finest, only know she's my mate. My long lost mate. Bring her back to me alive.

Rhoe had inquired about her appearances and if she wielded any powers.

She's a fire wielder, golden hair, blue eyes, and a feisty temper. If this is not enough, there is a uniquely shaped scar on her back. Slice open her shirt if you have to, but do not touch her!

Alexander dropped the now unconscious warrior and strolled over to the bar. He motioned to the bartender and ordered a mug of beer.

Do not touch her.

She's dangerous.

He gulped down half of the yellowish liquid. Pleasure rippled through him.

Unless you wish to die the day you return.

He wondered why she'd run away into the human realm as he drank the rest of his beer.

***

Luna scurried up the stairs of the glass castle, balancing a basket of laundry on her back. The maids had just barely finished cleaning the king's clothes before she'd been summoned to dress him. Even the most notorious and bloodthirsty king in the history of Fae couldn't dress. Stupid Fae bastard.

Luna climbed the stairs quickly, fearing the wrath of the Dark King. She'd already earned her daily lashing from tripping and splattering the king's nightgown and didn't want anymore. She hated the way the servants were treated in the glass castle, especially those who couldn't heal themselves.

Unlike her, most of the servants, maids, and cooks, she didn't have to heal herself. So Luna usually stayed up late at night, healing the servant's broken legs and cuts from the royal guards' whips. She hated the glass castle and how beautiful it was. She hated the king. But she couldn't do anything about it.

Luna had nowhere to go after her parent's older brothers were killed by her majesty. And she was no closer to finding a home or a mate, so she spent her days cleaning and dressing the Dark King.

After she climbed a few more flights of stairs, the basket in her hands nearly spilling, she reached a massive wooden door. It was a giant, twice the size of her and almost as heavy as a horse. She stopped and placed her ear onto the door, listening. She heard two hushed voices talking quickly, too faint to comprehend. So Luna took a deep breath and pushed the door open, revealing the giant room.

The king's chamber was rather simple, with a bed made with golden silk sheets, a wooden desk with swirls and symbols carved all over and a giant wooden wardrobe. The walls were made out of stone, the sun shining through the only window. Behind a hidden door was the bathroom, with a giant golden bathtub. The room was almost entirely made out of gold and stone, but it was cold and dark, fit for the Dark King.

Luna walked in, keeping her head down. She waited in the corner until the Dark King's companion left, before unfolding the king's clothes. He wore a new nightgown, black, unlike the red one she'd covered in mud. Still keeping her head down, Luna dressed the king in silence, not daring to look in his eyes.

Word around the castle says that if you ever look into his eyes, you can almost hear the screams from all of the Fae he's killed. Luna didn't know whether or not the rumors were but she still avoided his majesty's gaze. She buttoned on a black shirt, with embroidered roses covering the sleeves, she let him put on his pants and tied his bootlaces. She handed him his sword, a silver blade with a black hilt and finally gave him his cape.

As she walked over the wardrobe, reaching for the crown, tendrils of darkness wrapped around her. She let out a cry and struggled against the darkness, but the king was too strong. He reeled her in, forcing her onto her knees. The stone floor was cold against her knees, but Luna gritted her teeth, holding back a scream as the Dark Lord struck her.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Luna now kneeled in front of the Dark Lord, tears rolling down her cheeks. Blood ran down her forehead as he tilted her head up with his finger. She mumbled a quick prayer under her breath, hoping for a quick death. But instead of killing her the Dark King said:

"Look at you, crying and whimpering." he tilted her head up farther, trying to make her meet his gaze.

Don't look into his eyes.

She resisted.

"I won't hurt you" he whispered.

Liar.

Liar, liar, dirty rotten filthy liar.

"I wouldn't hurt a fly."

Liar, dirty rotten scoundrel.

Liar.

Murderer.

"Now tell me dear servant," his voice as cold as ice. "Is there anything I should know?"

Luna kept silent, not daring to meet his gaze.

"Nothing, I should worry about?" he said, darkness probing her mind.

"Nothing my lord" she responded, well aware he was probing her mind. One of the few advantages of being a healer was when someone probed your mind, you were well aware of it.

"Are you sure?" he hissed, darkness slithering down her spine.

"Yes my lord." She couldn't tell him about the rebels and the spies, helping people escape the king's lands. He'd made walls to keep his people in, but without him knowing, a group of rebels had formed, planning to overthrow the king. Every night they helped villages escape the city of Illyria, the Dark Lord's home.

The king narrowed his eyes, then struck her again. Still restrained, Luna spat blood on the ground, panting.

"I'm sorry if I've angered you, my lord, I didn't mean to," she mumbled, blinking away the tears.

Stay strong, do it for your mother and your family. Do it for the people of Illyria.

The king released his power, letting Luna drop onto the floor. He dismissed her with a nod and turned towards the bathroom.

"Oh, and Luna..." she turned around to face him. "Don't ever touch the crown."

A scream erupted from her throat as the Dark Lord of Illyria shattered her arm. 

***

Sorry for a rather short chapter.

 I promise I'll update soon.

Thanks for all the love and support.