CLAIMED BY THE DEMON KING

CLAIMED BY THE DEMON KING

Bella Donna · Ongoing · 50.9k Words

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Introduction

Nyksina Zharyn is just a healer’s daughter, but she harbors a dangerous secret: forbidden magic. Betrayed by the one she trusted most, branded a witch, and sentenced to death, her world collapses in flames.

Then, in the shadows of the abyss, she is pulled into the presence of Azmiel, the fabled Demon King of Ithyka. She frees him from his hundreds of years of slumber and accidentally binds herself to him. Tall, terrifying, and impossibly powerful, he offers her a choice: embrace certain death on the pyre, or step into the unknown under his gaze.

But surviving the Demon King may be only the beginning… for in his realm, every secret has a price, and every bond is a battle of power, trust, and desire.

Will Nyksina succumb to fate, or will she claim her own destiny?

Chapter 1

“Nyx!”

A voice hollered behind me, sharp and shrill.

Feyre. My stepmother.

“Coming, Feyre.”

I walked toward the house, a deep frown folding my forehead.

We were healers. Not wealthy, but comfortable enough. We had our home, two horses, and a few silver heirlooms.

“Yuh are too slow, Nyx. It toke yuh an ol’ time to come to me,” she scolded in her thick, southern Semae accent.

I glanced at the slender, porcelain-skinned woman sitting on the porch, her long, red hair loosely braided.

“I just returned from a stressful day with many patients to attend to. You shouldn't be among my problems, Feyre!”

“Well, no one asked yuh to treat for free!” she snapped. “Make sure yuh ask for manee next time. We need more gold, goods, and silver.”

I cast her one final look and walked into the house, ignoring her endless rambling.

I rushed into my room and picked up my acupuncture pins, some tonics, herbs and roots, throwing them into my sling bag and rushing out immediately.

“Nyx?” A soft masculine voice called out to me and I froze on my tracks.

Slowly I turned around.

My father stood by the porch with Feyre.

“Yes, father.”

“Today is the Festival of The Blood Moon, Don’t be late. Make sure you stop by the Square. Mother Dusha would be telling us more about the prophecy.”

A frown settled on my face and my forehead crumpled. I huffed angrily.

“Prophecy again? I told you that Ithyka doesn't exist. The prophecy and curse…” I laughed out loud, shaking my head. “is all a fabrication.”

“It is not!” He thundered. “Ithyka is real and demons are also real. Always remember that.”

I shrugged my shoulders and walked away. There was no point in arguing with him.

Well, father became overly superstitious after marrying Feyre. Why he decided to marry her is still a mystery to me. She was a witch hunter. Not just any witch hunter, but the Grand Witch hunter in Semae.

I maneuvered through streets and alleys, nodding my head as a sign of greeting.

“Nyx!”

I shut my eyes in frustration, groaning.

“What can I do for you?” I questioned, turning around. A little boy stood behind me, blinking his big, brown eyes at me.

“What is it, Brown?”

“Mother is dying.”

I rushed towards their house, Brown trailing behind me.

I sauntered into the house, my eyes immediately staring at the pale, young woman on the bed and her anxious husband. Grabbing her weak hands, I touched her pulse and pictures of her life flashed before my eyes. I quickly recoiled backwards.

“She isn't going to make it,” I shook my head. “Prepare for burial.”

“But…” her husband whispered, tests brimming at the corner of his eyes. “What can I do?”

“Prepare for burial.”

Bowing slightly, I trotted away to the Square where the class was being held.

“Ithyka exists.” An aged voice filled with life experiences said loudly as I hastened my feet into the house.

I lowered myself to the skinned floor and a sigh escaped my lips.

Mama Dusha stood in the middle, her eyes closed as usual.

“Ithyka is alive and demons are growing. The Demon King will soon awake from his slumber.”

Loud gasps ran across the square. I could see dread and fear evident in their faces.

“The Prophecy would be fulfilled. A Semaen girl would wake him from his slumber and be tied to him by the curse...”

That was my cue to leave. I didn't need to hear anything anymore. Nothing of such interested me.

Mythologies, stories and festivals. I didn't seem to enjoy them. Especially not a festival where people were executed without grounds.

Semae was beautiful at nighttime, but exceptionally beautiful and breathtaking tonight. Children played, actors performed in the arena, peasants wore their best clothes and lovers walked hand in hand through the lights

“Love…” A soft, familiar voice called.

I turned, smiling shyly.

Caspian.

Light skin, tousled brown curls, bright blue eyes, dressed in expensive robes. He stood outside the arena with his arms open wide, waiting for me.

“Love,” he whispered again, pulling me into his embrace.

I was the proudest girl in Semae. Caspian, leader of The Beacons Company of actors, was my lover.

“I missed you,” I murmured.

He laughed and hugged me tighter before pulling away. I checked around quickly to see if anyone saw me with him here.

“Aren’t…you going home for the festival?” I whispered.

“No.” He shook his head. “I wanted to see your magic.”

My heart dropped quickly.

I slapped my hand over his mouth. “Sssh! Be quiet!”

Magic was forbidden for peasants. Only mages and royalty could practice white, healing magic. I wasn’t a mage’s daughter, nor royalty; I was just a girl born with powers I never asked for.

Witch hunters labeled whoever practiced magic as a witch. Witches were burned in Semae.

“I told you not to say that out loud, Cas. Walls have ears.”

He nodded and dragged me to our secret cave in the woods. Inside the dark cave, his lips found mine immediately. I shut my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck as he lifted me slightly off the ground.

Our tongues intertwined until he pulled away, breathless.

“Are… you going to show me your magic now?” he asked.

I swallowed the disappointment. I had thought he was going to go deeper, maybe, go above kissing and holding hands.

So that’s what he wanted. My magic, not me.

It drained me to use it, but he was my lover. I wanted to make him happy.

I exhaled slowly, grey eyes glowing with violet streaks. The cave lit from the inside, warmth spilling, but the effort left me light-headed and trembling.

“How did you do it?”

““Uh…” I stuttered. “I…imagined the cave should be brighter and it was.”

He stepped back, horror slowly replacing fascination.

What…is going on here?

“You’re a witch, Nyksina.” His voice dripped with disgust.

Wait…What?

My world swayed.

“I’m not a witch, Caspian. Moreover, you’ve always known I have magic,” I whispered. “Why do you look disgusted?”

He gripped his chest tightly, as if the weight of my magic struck him. His jaw clenched and his eyes blazed with horror. “Because I am… Witches die in Semae, Nyksina.”

His shoulders trembled slightly, and for a fleeting second, I thought I saw pain flicker behind his anger.

Torches suddenly flooded the cave with light and I froze in shock.

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