Lycannar
The first time I stepped into the Demon Realm, I carried thousands of questions, and the one who answered them was my stepbrother, Hades.
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He exined why their sun sets and rises differently, why nearly everything in the Kingdom is ck, and why they bear long fangs and horns.
It is because they are Demons, so unlike werewolves or Lycans, and they live far longer than us in the Mortal Realm. To them, our world is fragile and fleeting, but I… I can’t choose sides. I belong to both worlds, and I keep the peace between them.
As I stood before the Ocean now, I felt the gazes of everyone shift toward me. Just as the ocean portal exists in the Lycan Kingdom’s backyard, so too does the portal rest here, in the Demon Realm’s dark waters.
Most of them know me. They know my name, the blood I carry. They fear me, even though I have never once turned my eyes on them. They whisper behind my back, as though I were already guilty.
I had saved the Abyss from countless battles, cut down rivals so my stepfather could sit safely on his throne without challenge and still they feared me. Too dangerous, they say.
Dripping wet from the Ocean, I walked straight toward the castle, ignoring the bows and stares. Not when I could already sense Hades’s scent somewhere deep below.
“My goodness, it’s the Lycan prince.“]
“Prince? Haven’t you heard? He’s a king now.”
The whispers trailed behind me, but I gave them no heed.
I halted suddenly in the hallway. Evening shadows clung to the walls as I turned toward the royal chamber, intending to greet my stepfather, the Demon King. But the scent of my brother Hades was stronger,ing not from the royal wing<i>, </i>but from the underground prison.
My chest tightened. Why is he there? Why wasn’t I told?
I turned, only to hear footsteps. The King’s advisor, Salo, appeared with a group of guards. They were mid- conversation, but froze when they saw me standing ahead. Their faces went pale.
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“Is…. is that… Apex?” Salo stammered, and before I could answer, he bolted off screaming, “Your Majesty!”
I ignored him, striding down into the depths. The prison was a pit of rot and shadows, cells reeking of despair. I passed several before stopping cold at one.
There he was. Hades.
Hey sprawled on a stone bed, surrounded by empty bottles of wine. Another was in his hand, halfway down his throat. He look every inch like the warrior I once knew, like the brother I remember. He wasn’t bothered to even be locked.
He drained the bottle, reaching for another when he froze. He had sensed me.
Slowly, his head turned, and his eyes widened. Then he grinned.
“My goodness. Little brother. You came for me?”
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I didn’t answer. My re said enough. I turned away, jaw set, and climbed back <i>to </i>the royal chamber.
The throne room stretched long and cold. Salo stood beside the dais as usual, and my stepfather, the Demon King, entered just then. His eyes found me, and for a moment he stopped.
“Father,” I greeted, bowing, but he came to me first, sping my arm with surprising warmth.
“I should have written sooner,” he sighed. “When I saw your bodyguard, I realized how foolish I was not to send for you. But you… ruling that vast Lycan Kingdom… I knew how busy you would be.”
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“Father.” I straightened, studying him. He looked worn, pale–lipped, shadows under his eyes.
“Apex,” he said, the name my mother gave me, the name they all call me here. “Did you read my letter?”
“I came as soon as I did. The letter said Hades refused the throne, that he’s forfeiting everything.”
“That’s right,” he said firmly. “And for that, I put him where he belongs.”
“A prison? Father…”
“He’ll be executed tomorrow. That is the order.”
I froze. My step faltered.
“What?”
“The sentence is sealed.” He waved it off. “Now, if you will listen because there are things I must tell you…‘
“No, Father. You can’t execute Hades. He’s my only brother…”
“Will you let me speak?!” His voice cracked through the hall, furious. I stilled. “Hades is not your brother. He has never been worthy of me as his father! Do you know what he did? Five years ago, at the battle of the Abyss, I ordered him to ughter the Ashmeres. Everyst one. But what did he do? He returned home defeated!”
“He wasn’t defeated,” I countered. “He left the battlefield. There’s a difference.”
“Hold your tongue, Apex, before I truly lose patience.” His eyes burned. “He came home without victory, disobeyed mymand, and worse, he retired as warlord, hung his armor to rot. That was treachery I tolerated but never forgave. And now? I arranged his betrothal so he could ascend after me. But he refused. I gave him a choice. Throne and bride, or death. And he chose death.”
My heart sank.
“What?”
“I have only one son, and it is you. Thank the gods you are here, I will summon the elders at once and prepare.”
I stepped back, dread curling in my chest.
“What preparation?”
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“For you, Apex. To be Demon King. You will be betrothed to Xyrrha, and you will ascend this throne. Your mother was the true queen of this realm so you have the right to rule.”
My breath hitched, my knees weakened. Betrothed? Ascend the throne?
Wait… what?
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