The Blue Devil

by Quirah Casey

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  ALSO BY QUIRAH CASEY

  By Her Hand (Blue Devil Short Story)

  The Butcher (The Butcher’s Tale Short Story)

  Stealing The Throne (Chronicles Of The Throne Book One)-Coming Mid-April 2019

  Here is an unedited, sneak peek of Quirah’s upcoming Reverse Harem Series, Stealing The Throne...

  Prologue

  I couldn’t see anything through the flames. No, I couldn’t see, but I could hear. I could hear the screams from everyone in the castle; the servants, the maids, my sister, my parents.

  “Mama! Daddy!” I cried out, trying to spot them through the flames that threatened to choke the life out of me.

  No response came.

  And it never would.

  It was useless.

  I’d sunken to the ground, waiting for the flames to engulf me when a strong arm wrapped around me, picking me up. I screamed, knowing the enemy had found me. Somehow being captured was going to be much worse than burning up. I just knew it. “Amelia!” I instantly recognized the voice, but I didn’t relax. No, not when everyone I knew and loved were burning and suffering around me. The castle I grew up in was quickly turning to nothing but ash, and it was only a matter of time before it consumed me.

  “Amelia, we have to go!” yelled Conrad, our family’s head of security and champion. Even as I kicked and screamed for my parents, tears rolling down my six year old face, Conrad didn’t let go of me.

  Conrad threw me in the backseat of his car, turning the child locks on. He knew I wanted to go back for my parents. I wanted to go back and bring them with us. We’d start planning our revenge and take back our throne that had burned down with the castle. The thing was they were as good as dead, and Conrad and I both knew it. Conrad was ready to face it, but I wasn’t.

  I cried the whole time that Conrad drove away. Away from the castle, away from my now dead parents, away from my life as Princess Amelia Deightyn.

  When the car finally stopped some time later, behind a thicket of bushes, I still had big tears pouring down my face. In the dark of the night, the cave next to the bushes was nearly invisible. Conrad dragged me out of the car and pulled me into the cave.

  “They knew it,” he hissed as he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “They knew that something like this would happen, that one of their friends would betray them They were warned.” The moonlight streaming into the cave illuminated Conrad’s face. I’d never seen Conrad cry, but that night I saw unshed tears in his eyes. They were bloodshot and watery, but he wouldn’t let a tear fall. He refused. In the next twelve years, I would still never see him allow a single tear fall.

  “They thought they would be prepared for the betrayal, but they weren’t.” His eyes bore into mine, unblinking. “You listen to me, and you listen good, Amelia. You stop crying right now, and you never shed a tear again. It’s a sign of weakness, and we are not weak. We are angry, and we are going to get our revenge. Do you hear me?” Before I could answer, he was swiping at my tears with his big thumbs. “Those were your last tears. You are no longer Princess Amelia, you are Roxanna, the warrior, my warrior, you parents’ warrior, your sister’s warrior.”

  He stepped away from me, grabbing something from behind a boulder. The thing gleamed in the moonlight, and when Conrad stood in front of me again, I realized it was a sword. He shoved the gleaming sword in my hand. “You are Roxanna, the warrior,” he said sharply. “Say it, now.”

  As I stood in front of him with that sword in my hands, I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry and run into my mother’s arms. But, I couldn't cry anymore, Conrad had made that clear, and my parents were dead. So, I held back those tears, met his eyes, and with all the conviction I could muster I said, “I am Roxanna, the warrior.”

  Conrad nodded in approval. “You are Roxanna, the warrior, and we’re going to get revenge on the people who took away your castle, your throne, your parents. Your life.”

  Chapter One

  Present

  When you train for something for the majority of your life, you better be damn good at it. Especially when that something is killing people.

  I’ve dedicated my life to learning to become the woman I am today, becoming the woman that would end the royals, the woman that would avenge my family.

  My childhood should have been filled with luxuries that were entitled to a princess. I should have had people waiting on me hand and foot as I took etiquette classes and played with other children of royal blood. Instead, I spent a life mostly hidden away from others, training my body to be a weapon, and having one friend whose life was just as fucked up as mine.

  And now all of it is going to come to a head. My training is finally going to be put to use and I’m finally going to kill the people who took away my life.

  Or I’m going to fail.

  It doesn’t matter though, because even if I don’t accomplish my goal, I’ll make sure they never forget me. I’ll go down in a blaze, taking as many royals as I can with me. ,

  A warm hand brushes my arm, and I know who it is without turning. “Roxanna, you have nothing to worry about.” Conrad’s deep voice is soft, resembling more of the father that he’s had to be to me over the years instead of the hard trainer who’s pushed me to my limits on the daily. “Everything is going to be fine. We’re prepared.”

  I nod, pushing back the fear, anger, and regret that try to fight their way to the surface and drown me. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” I finally say after I get my emotions in check.

  “It is.” Silence hangs between us. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  My spine stiffens, and I turn to meet his warm brown eyes. “I’m positive I can do this. I’m ready.” He doesn’t need to know that there’s a sickening twist in my stomach everytime I think about tomorrow. That I worry I will die tomorrow, and my entire existence will have been for nothing.

  He continues to watch me closely, looking for any sign of weakness in my posture. He opens his mouth, but I shake my head cutting him off. “I’m not worried,” I lie, “and neither should you be.” I make my way past him. “I’m going to head to bed.” I need to seclude myself to my room, get away from him. I can’t let Conrad hear the sliver of doubt that I have. If I do, he’ll pull me from the mission before it’s even started. Despite the fact that we both want to make the royals pay, he’d never send me in if he thought there was a slim chance I wasn’t ready.

  Conrad’s hand grabs me again, and I wait for him to call me on my bullshit; instead, I’m pulled into his strong arms. I listen to the steady beat of his heart as my head is pressed against his hard chest.

  For a second that’s all there is, me, him, and the steady beats of our hearts. It chokes me up more than anything. If I fail, it won’t only be my family I let down, it’ll also be Conrad, the man who didn’t have to save me and take care of me all these years, his love and loyalty for my family so strong that it’d never crossed his mind to abandon me. Maybe he isn’t the warmest man, but I’ve always known that he’s cared for me and has always treated me like the daughter he never had, being the father who was brutally taken from me.

  “I’m proud of you, Roxanna, and your parents would be too. You bring honor to the Deightyn name, and I know that you’ll restore your family’s throne.”

  Despite Conrad’s reassurance, I stay up most of the night thinking of all of the things that can go wrong. The last thing I think before I fall asleep is that the people who burned up my old life will regret walking through those ashes starting tomorrow.

  ♕

  The hard line of the man’s lips at the competitor check in desk says it all before he does, that doesn’t stop him though. “Ma’am, I think you are in the wrong area.�
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  “Nope, I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be actually,” I tell him calmly, pointing to the words printed on the banner of the table in front of me. “Competitor check in and I’m a competitor, here to check in,” I say slowly, unable to keep my sarcasm to myself. “So if you could get things moving along, that’d be great.”

  Someone lets a chuckle out behind me, the sound cutting over the noisy preparations being set for today’s event. I turn my head to find a man with pale skin, orange hair, and chocolate puppy dog eyes watching my exchange with the worker in amusement. I raise a brow at him, and his smile widens. Ignoring him, I turn back to the man in charge of check in as his cheeks redden. Obviously, being mouthed off to by a woman isn’t something he enjoys.

  What a surprise.

  “Ma’am, women are not allowed to compete.”

  You know, I’ve traveled to the mortal realm before, and while the realm is extremely different from Caelumine, they also seem to be stuck in the stupid idea of women being extremely inferior to men physically, especially in America where I’d spent most of my time. It seems to be a universal thing. I prepared myself for this bullshit though, knowing it was going to be a problem that comes up often while carrying out my mission.

  “Actually there’s nothing in the rules that says a woman can’t compete. It only says they have to be 17 or older to enter The Calling, and well, I’m 18, so there’s no problem.”

  He puffs out a deep breath. “Ma-”

  “Hand me my fucking papers before I show you how much I belong in this fucking competition by slitting your throat and watching you die, slowly.” I probably shouldn’t already be making such threats before I’ve even done my paperwork, but sometimes violence is the answer, especially when dealing with pig-headed men.

  The man’s face is even redder now as another snort comes from the orange-haired man behind me. For a second I think the worker is going to continue to argue, but then he starts hastily getting the papers needed ready, glancing up at me every few seconds with a scowl. I make a gesture with my hand for him to hurry up, and finally he passes over all the papers.

  He has to get in one last comment, of course, because men feel they always need the last word. “You are running the risk of being escorted off the premises and executed for embarrassing and mocking the sacredness of The Calling and the royal family of Caelumine.” His words give a warning, while his tone implies a threat.

  “I’ll take my chances.” I give him a mock salute before flashing a grin at the guy who was standing behind me who’s watching me in amusement.

  I push past the people crowding the competitor sign in area, fighting off the jitter of my nerves that come whenever I’m in such a large crowd. Besides the few workers, there are no women in the area, and whispers start to flood my ears as the other competitors realize I’m signing up for The Calling. I ignore them, following the gravel trail that leads to a private area, void of any other people.

  I sit on a stone bench, slowly filling out the paperwork. While on the outside, I must be the perfect picture of composure and confidence, on the inside I can’t get it together. My nerves are shot, and it feels like there are bats flying around in my stomach.

  For most of my life I have prepared for this day. The second the flames started to engulf my parent’s castle, everything was set into motion. That was when I gave up any opportunity of having a real childhood, knowing that child’s play would not get me closer to my goal. Why play with barbies when I could play with swords? Why make friends when I could improve my powers?

  Today is the day that I learn if it was all worth it. If I’m worthy to walk in the shadows of my parents, or if I should have just died in the fire too.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I push all my worries out on the exhale. I can’t change anything today that will affect my outcome except for my mental state. All the other work was done over the course of a decade, and now I’m either ready or I’m not.

  I finish filling out the form, taking it back to the worker with the scowl still etched on his face. I don’t linger, instead heading to the training arena where the competitor briefing will take place. It’s a small, battered arena, a good distance away from the main arena where the actual competition will take place. The noise coming from the main arena is already off the charts as spectators pile in, no doubt ready to see the bloodbath that they have been promised on the lead up to today.

  A wisp of hair blows into my face as I stand just outside of the entrance to the training arena.

  Here we go.

  I step through the wide entrance, taking in the round, stone walls, littered with concrete bleachers that surround a sand pit. Only one section of the bleachers is currently being occupied, and it’s by the men who I’ll have to compete against over the next few months, men who will be trying to kill me just as much as I’ll be trying to kill them.

  There’s no doubt over two hundred competitors already here, and their boisterous chatter comes to an end the second they spot me.

  I almost freeze up, but instead I hold my head higher as I strut over to a vacant seat on the end of the bottom row of bleachers. Fake it until you make it. My put on confidence doesn’t stop the others from staring at me though as the murmurs start up again. A couple of cat calls reach me along with comments asking since when are “tits” allowed in.

  I turn my head, glaring at the burly man who made the comment. He smirks, making a rude gesture with his hand at me, and I decide he will get the honor of losing his life to my sword first.

  The murmurs come to a halt all of a sudden, and I look over my shoulder at the entrance where one of the tallest men I’ve ever seen in both the mortal realm and Caelumine is walking in. Walking may not be the right word, so much as striding. He moves with such a smooth swagger, a deadly grace that hints at the damage he could do to a person, punctuated by the sword holstered to his hip.

  His onyx hair sways, gently tapping at his shoulders and his back as he looks up, his seaweed green eyes snapping up to meet mine. There’s a slight stagger in his step as he looks me over from head to toe, his eyes pausing longer on the sword at my side instead of my tits, letting me know he isn’t just checking me out like everyone else here. He’s actually sizing me up to see how much of a threat I am, which puts him on the top of the list of people I need to look out for. The strong, angular features of his face make his stare even colder and harder as he turns his head to look at the others. When he does, I catch sight of the circular ink on his neck, identifying him as cealick-a weak blood with very little, if any siel magic. Caelicks sit at the bottom of the totem pole in Caelumine, most being offsprings of a half-blood and someone with no cael magic or two caelicks. They get the worst jobs and treatment. They’re also the top candidates for The Calling, people willing to do anything to help elevate the class and wealth of their family.

  While his markings may say low class, the tall man’s clothing and appearance say royalty. His clothes are of the highest and most expensive fabric, his hair groomed to perfection.

  It doesn’t add up.

  My eyes track his movements as he sits in one of the back rows on the opposite side of me as if he is trying to get as far away from me as possible. I turn away.

  The talking starts up again amongst the other competitors, except this time it isn’t about me. I guess my tits aren't interesting enough to keep up conversation for long. I almost let out a laugh, but instead I listen in as two men behind me speak about the mystery man being the favorite and the prince being pissed that he wasn’t just handed the position as his champion.

  Who is this man, and why don’t I know about him?

  I turn to investigate the man again, wondering how he could have slipped under my and Conrad’s radar since he seems to be strangely important and popular. We planned for every angle, and we accounted for every person who could come into play.

  The man turns his head and hard eyes instantly lock with mine. My breath catches in my chest for a minute as it f
eels like those emerald orbs are trying to penetrate me, to see through to my soul. My breath pushes shakily through my lungs as I return his stare, studying him just as intently as he is me. He’s truly a beautiful man despite the darkness that obviously leaks from him. I spent a majority of my life around a woman who literally has darkness inside of her, consuming her, and this man reminds me very much of her with only a glance.

  I have no doubt he’s going to be a challenge, but I also know that I can take him on.

  His eyes hold no emotion as they continue to hold mine as if he’s a robot or a soulless man. I wouldn’t be surprised if the latter was true. It would explain how a Caelick could be dressed like someone from the royal family. Only the heartless would be associated with those people.

  His face moves the slightest fraction, his lips turning down. The sound of chatter catches my attention, and I rip my gaze away from the dark man, noticing that my heart rate is unsteady, beating much faster than earlier.

  Laughter cuts through all of the chatter, and I follow the noise to a pair of guys walking in the entrance. They’re twins, it wouldn’t take a genius to realise that with their matching features, icy blue eyes, sharp noses, plump lips. One has a little more scruff on his face, and his brown hair is longer than his brother’s. He’s the one who’s laughing, his eyes full of amusement that I can see even with a good distance between us. The other brother is smirking, but his amusement is a bit more subdued than his twin’s. Their clothes, like the dark man’s, give off a royal vibe, confirming my suspicions of who these men are.

  The Bae Twins.

  Orrael and Orrtyn Bae are the sons of the advisors to King and Queen Fawcett, and the twins follow in their parents’ footsteps as advisors to the prince, Elyjah. The Bae family are at the top of my list, just under the Fawcetts, of people I’m going to destroy. As advisors to the Fawcett court, they would have been first to know about the plot to take my family’s throne.