AUTHOR'S NOTE:

  Hello, everyone! I wish you a Happy New Year and all the best for the year ahead.

  I apologize for the short chapter, but the one will be much longer. Until then, take care!

  HELLION

  Hellion lounged on the obsidian throne, his t frame exuding an aura of menace. His bck, soulless eyes sed the room, lingering briefly on the demons scattered throughout the chamber. They reveled in tormenting the heir gleeful cackles blending with the crag of infernal fmes. The red hue of Hellion's skin glistened in the flickering light, atuating his formidable presewo imposing bck horns jutted skyward from his skull, their jagged length radiating intimidation. His long, brown hair cascaded over his broad shoulders, trasting sharply with his bare, muscur torso. He wore only rugged browher pants, his feet bare, gripping the scorched stone floor.

  In his cwed right hand, he held a massive silver battle axe etched with intricate bck ruhat seemed to writhe like living shadows. His pierg gaze finally nded on his younger brother, who had just ehe chamber.

  "Well, aren't you cozy on Father's throne?" Andell said, his voice cutting through the noise like a bde. I khat I'd find you here."

  Hellion narrowed his eyes to Andell's restored arms, now whole again. "I see that bothersome limbs of yrew back."

  Andell ched his fists, his jaw tightening as rage flickered in his eyes. "That bitch will pay for what she did to me."

  Hellion smirked, a twisted expression devoid of warmth. "And whose fault is that, little brother? You provoked her."

  Hellion leaned back, resting the axe across his p as his smirk deepened. "What do you want, Andell?"

  Andell sighed, his frustration evident in the harsh exhale. "I need your help to get rid of Isabel."

  A sharp ugh erupted from Hellion's lips, eg across the chamber. It was cold, calcuted, and mog—a ugh that made Andell's stomach .

  "You need my help? How delightful." Hellion's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And why not ask our dear Father?"

  "Because he loves Mother too much to ever harm Isabel," Andell snapped. Well I think he does, his tone softened, almost pleading.

  "And you… you're different. You hate everyone. Everything. e on, Hellion. What will it take for you to help me?"

  "All I need is five of your best warriors," Andell said, his voice steady but ced with urgency. He locked eyes with Hellion, the t general whose reputation preceded him. Hellion wasn't just a warrior—he was a living legend, known for his ing strategies aless drive in battle. The army he anded was as ruthless as their father, a force that had left entire kingdoms trembling in its wake.

  Andell's heart raced as he spoke. He khat asking for Hellion's help was no small request. These warriors were unstoppable, unmatched by any foe. Nothing in this world—nor the —could stand against them. Andell ched his fists, silently praying that his plea would not fall on deaf ears.

  Hellion's eyes gleamed with malicious glee as he tilted his head. "Yht horn."

  "What?" Andell's voice rose, tinged with disbelief. "You 't be serious."

  "Oh, I am," Hellion replied, his smirk widening to reveal sharp, glinting fangs. "Yht hive it to me, and I'll grant you five of my best warriors. No horn, no help. It's your choice."

  Andell's pulse quied as he took a step back, the enormity of the demand dawning on him. "But… why my horn? What are you going to do with it?"

  "That's a question you'll never get an ao until it's too te." Fear crept up Andell's body, he shook it off nervously as Hellion rose from the throh a slow, deliberate grace, his t eight-foot frame dwarfing Andell's. His poiail swayed behind him, and each step brought an oppressive weight. "Decide quickly. You're wasting my time."

  Andell swallowed hard, his voice a mere whisper. "Fi least it'll grow back."

  "No, it won't," Hellion said, his tone devoid of sympathy.

  "What the hell do you mean?" Andell's voice trembled as he backed away.

  Hellion's smirk deepened as he closed the distaween them. "If I take your horn, it won't grow back. Ever."

  Andell's breath hitched, the reality crashing down on him. "Okay," he croaked, barely audible.

  Hellion loomed over him, his dark eyes gleaming. "What was that? I didn't hear you."

  "I said okay!" Andell shouted, his voice crag with desperation.

  Hellion's cwed hand shot forward without warning, gripping Andell's horn. The siing ch of bone echoed through the chamber as Hellion ripped the horn from his brother's head in one brutal motion. Andell screamed—a high-pitched, agonized sound that silehe demons in the room. Bck blood poured from the jagged wound, staining his face as he colpsed to the ground, gasping and moaning in pain.

  Hellion stood over him, holding the severed horn aloft, his expression one of disdain. "The warriors will be waiting in your chambers, dear brother." His voice was cold, detached, as though the autition was nothing more than a busiransa.

  As Hellion strode away, his tail swaying with each step, blood dripped from the horn csped in his cwed hand. Hellion smirked, a spark of anticipation flickering in his dark eyes. He could hardly wait to see the oute of Andell's pn. The thought of it sent a thrill c through him—ohat mingled with admiration and a tinge of mischief. He knew Isabel was no ordinary warrior. She was exceptional, a force to be reed with—better than any soldier under his and. She had surpassed them all, and rightly so. After all, he had trained her himself i. To the outside world, it seemed as though he hated her. Their endless bickering and fiery cshes had vinced everyone of it. But deep down, he harbored a soft spot for his little sister, one he'd never admit to ahere was a boween them, fed in blood and fire. Once, during one of their more heated fights, she had nearly killed him. That moment had been a turning point—a strange, brutal decration of her strength. And from that day, he respected her in a way that words could never describe.

  Giving Andell five of his best warriors to aid in the mission wasn’t a sacrifice. Hellion knew better. Those warriors, loyal on the surface, were spies pnted by their father—a fact he had discovered long ago. He did not doubt that Isabel would deal with them as ruthlessly as she would any other obstacle. The thought brought another smirk to his lips. Yes, his sister was capable, and he couldn’t wait to see her prove it again.

  Andell y on the ground, clutg the stump of his horn, his breaths ragged. He didn't know what Hellion po do with the horn, but it didn't matter. Carlisle and his wouldn't succeed against Isabel—it was all a diversion. He only hope that those idiots don't mess it up.

  For now, Andell's pn roceeding perfectly. Soon, Isabel would learrue extent of his superiority.