Bonus Chapter: Hela - The Shadow Princess

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Copyright © 2026 Beck Michaels

AMONG DEMONKIND, YOU WERE EITHER PREDATOR OR PREY, Uncle Deimos had told her. To be a predator, one must be a hunter.

Tonight, Hela was determined to hunt the most dangerous creature in the Netherworld.

Papa.

Hela giggled as she ran through the castle corridors, her bare feet launching off clouds of mist and embers as her doll flopped wildly behind her. She held Scraps by the leg because she had almost torn off one of her cornsilk pigtails once.

The stone groaned as Karag Dûr offered her a ledge while she climbed up the wall and onto the ceiling. Expert hunters moved where their prey did not look.

No one ever looked up.

The corridors of the castle stretched wide and tall, lit by floating candles and drifting wisps of pale souls. Below, two armored demons walked through the hall, arguing quietly.

“…I told you, the Dominion of Sloth is not blind—”

Hela crawled past but her doll bumped into the chandelier. It creaked loudly in the quiet, making the candlelight dance.

The demons froze before slowly glancing up.

Hela grinned at them, bearing all her teeth. “Hello!”

They immediately bowed deeply. “Princess.”

“Carry on,” Hela said importantly.

They hurried away.

Hela smirked, pleased. Aunt Calla always said intimidation was an important leadership skill.

She continued prowling, her wings fluttering behind her. The small dark feathers shimmered faintly with ember light before folding again. Quiet and slow. Very sneaky.

She summoned invisibility glamor and crept along the ceiling toward the council chamber doors.

The massive obsidian doors groaned open as a servant stepped inside with a tray of wine and Hela crawled in. Inside, a few Dominions, lords, and generals of the Netherworld gathered around the long black table. The demons spoke in low, deep voices.

Rune sat at the head of the chamber.

He played with a thread of hellfire as he listened to Uncle Hadeon speak.

“…three necromancers opened a gate in the seventh hell last night. We closed it before any lower demons could escape through it, but it’s the third occurrence this month. If this continues, an Abyss shadow is bound to escape…”

Papa’s red gaze dulled with annoyance, and he tapped a clawed finger pensively on the table made of volcanic glass. “Perhaps I should allow one to escape. It would serve as a grave lesson.”

The demons in the chamber rumbled in agreement.

Hela crawled slowly across the ceiling above him, Scraps’ button eyes faintly scratching against the stone. The warg hounds lying beside Papa’s chair lifted their heads, ears twitching, and Hela held still.

“I have a matter of complaint,” Lady Nexia said, narrowing her glare on Uncle Deimos.

He propped his feet up onto the table and leaned back in his seat. A sharp smile played on his lips, Shades hovering around his shoulders. “The Prism veins lie within my faction.”

“They sit on both territory lines!”

“Yet we discovered them first. Therefore, the Prism ore belongs to Gluttony. If Greed wants a piece of my rainbow hoard, you can take part in the mining.”

Nexia hissed.

The Sea Wraith, as Deimos called her, loved jewels almost as much as Hela loved mooncakes. When he discovered the rainbow stones nestled within Gluttony’s crystal cliffs on the shores of Greed, Nexia attempted to pocket some. Auntie Calla had only laughed and reminded her that the Realm of Greed cut off the fingers of thieves who dared steal from the depths of her cold sea. She should mind what wasn’t hers if she didn’t want to discover Gluttony’s reprisal instead.

Reprisal was a new word for Hela, but it sounded like a bad one because Nexia turned as pale as sea foam before immediately putting the stones back. So now she was trying to convince Papa to give her some instead.

Rune groaned and shut his eyes, kneading his temples.

Perfect.

Hela dropped with a feral snarl. “RAAAA!”

She landed on Papa’s shoulders and sank her tiny fangs into his neck. Lady Nexia and several demons leaped from their seats. Except for Uncle Deimos and Uncle Hadeon.

Rune merely blinked once. “Oh no,” he said gravely. “How could I ever survive against the most adorable creature the Netherworld has ever beheld?”

“I got you,” she declared proudly.

“Yes. I appear to be defeated.” He gently peeled Hela from his shoulders and settled her on his lap. His red eyes softened with a warm smile. “Well done.”

Hela beamed.

The demons slowly sat back down.

“You attack with great ferocity,” Papa continued. “Have you been training with Deimos again?”

Hela nodded happily. “He says I must be one with the dark.”

Rune sighed, frowning at the spy, who gave her an approving wink before poofing away. “That explains everything.”

His frown deepened when spotting Hela’s necklace. A white eyeball encased in glass clinked softly around her neck. A gift from Lady Segrith during the last Samhain festival.

Papa hated it.

But it was Hela’s greatest treasure.

For the Lady of Sloth had told her a secret. She didn’t need her eyes to see the future anymore. Losing her eyes had opened her sight to the beyond. Hela wondered if Segrith meant beyond the sand dunes of the Sloth Realm and into the Seven Hells or into the Mortal Realm she had not been allowed to see yet. But Hela’s eye necklace would let her seein her dreams too.

“Papa, can we have a snack?”

“Didn’t you have dessert at dinner?”

“It’s not for me.” Hela held up her doll. “Scraps says she wants mooncakes.”

Magic flickered faintly around her hands, and a plate of round red pastries glazed with honey appeared on the table. She squealed happily as she ate and the shadows beneath the table tickled her feet.

A murmur passed through the room.

“…she is only five and already summoning…”

“…such power at the whim of a child…”

A Wrath warlord grunted under his breath. “I fear what she will become in time.”

Rune’s red gaze snapped to him.

The demon immediately fell silent, his red complexion darkening further when Uncle Hadeon shot him a look next. The Lord of Wrath was so daunting in that moment, skin covered in scars and tattoos, but he gave the best Drakon-back rides when his warriors weren’t watching.

Hela wanted to be like that one day. Intimidating as Papa and Hadeon. Sly as Deimos and clever as Calla. Beautiful as Mama.

But she didn’t like to think about growing up one day. It didn’t seem fun.

She made Scraps bite Papa’s finger with exaggerated chomping sounds.

Rune smiled at her knowingly as he fixed the crooked ribbon in her hair. It was raven black, exactly like his. Her eyes were honey-brown like Mama’s, though sometimes they changed colors when she felt too much.

“Is it not past your bedtime?” he asked.

Hela innocently shrugged. “…No?”

His brow lifted. “Then why are you hiding from your mother?”

“You knew?”

Rune gave her a dry look. “Little darling, I knew the moment you crawled across the ceiling.”

Hela pouted at not being sneaky enough. “Papa, you mustn’t tell her you saw me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because Mama will make me sleep.”

Rune considered this. “That does sound tragic.”

She nodded very seriously. “Yes, and I am not done playing yet.”

“…Hela.”

“Now it’s your turn to hunt me!” Hela grinned, vanishing in a puff of black smoke before he could grab her.

She reappeared three corridors away and ran. Her wings fluttered behind her as she giggled. Papa never caught her right away but always did eventually.

That was part of the game.

She darted past the throne room doors but paused as she heard someone speaking. Hela tilted her head, recognizing Mama and Aunt Calla’s voices.

Uncle Deimos did say spying was as important as hunting. With a spark of smoke and embers, Hela summoned invisibility glamor and slipped inside. She hid behind one of the enormous stone pillars and crawled up to the ceiling.

Mama stood beside Calla, her expression tight as she frowned at the two thrones on the dais. “…her power is increasing,” she said quietly.

“And becoming unpredictable,” Calla added. “We may need to begin her training early.”

Hela’s stomach flipped.

They were talking about her.

“My concern, however, is that she may need… a special instructor,” spoke another. There was something ominous in the voice. It belonged to a woman standing behind a dragon monument that concealed her from view.

Mama watched her warily and shook her head. “Is this why you have come?”

“It’s drawn attention, Alora. His attention.”

Mama and Calla stared at the woman a moment, and Hela sensed her mother was upset. Nexus growled softly beside her. Alora stroked his ears absentmindedly.

A maid ran into the throne room.

“My Queen, we cannot find the princess.”

Alora sighed. “Ever since Hela learned how to mask her presence, bedtime has always become a challenge. Search the gardens.”

She and Aunt Calla rushed out.

Only the woman remained.

She stepped out from behind the pillar, glowing with soft silver light. Her gown glittered like the crystal cliffs Uncle Deimos had once carried her across. She sat quietly on the throne room steps, and her pale blue eyes lifted slowly—directly at her.

“Hela,” she said softly. “Hello, sweet one.”

Hela blinked at the Goddess of Death. Her wings twitched nervously before she flew down and landed in front of her. “Oh… hello.”

Sunnëva smiled gently. “What are you doing?”

“Spying,” Hela said hesitantly.

She chuckled. “That is a useful skill. What other skills do you have? I hear you are proficient in magic.”

Hela turned over the new word in her head. Did it mean strong?

“Yes, I am pro-fi-shent.”

Ice gathered in Sunnëva’s hand, forming a delicate bird of frost.

Hela’s eyes widened. “Wow.”

Sunnëva held it out. “Magic is fun, isn’t it?”

Hela nodded excitedly. She reached for it but hesitated. “Papa says I must always be careful. Calm like a balm. Happy and dandy.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head. “Why is that?”

Hela gently took the frosted bird. “Because sad-mad means bad.”

Sunnëva’s gaze lingered on the way the black mist and embers drifted around her bare feet. “What happens when you feel sad-mad?”

Hela’s smile faded as she thought of the last time she was upset. One day at school, one of the demon children called her Lashar, then they all started teasing her and…

Hela’s throat bobbed. “I… break things.”

The frost bird shattered suddenly in her hands.

Sunnëva’s brow lifted slightly. “Interesting.”

Hela’s shoulders drooped.

Was she Lashar? Daughter of destruction…

Pressure built in Hela’s chest. It was shaky and bubbly, and a tempest began to stir around her. Mama called it her storm. A sign she was becoming too excited or upset.

The shadows in the throne room crawled along the walls, whispering in Hellspeech. A faint moan shuddered through the castle.

Sunnëva’s smile faded.

Hela shut her eyes and took a breath, hugging Scraps tight. “I don’t like it when the storm comes.”

Sunnëva studied her quietly, then pulled Hela onto her lap. “What if I could take you somewhere you wouldn’t hurt anyone?”

Hela blinked. “Where?”

“Somewhere not dark like here.”

Hela frowned. She liked it dark.

“Your parents are worried about you.”

Her magic had exploded that day at school. She hurt the boy who teased her. It took a lot of magic to fix him. Mama and Papa watched her more carefully after that.

Sometimes they whispered to themselves in secret, and sometimes the demons stared at her strangely. Were they scared of her?

A pang went through her heart. Did Sunnëva come because they wanted to send her away?

A plume of shadows swirled in the center of the throne room, and Rune stepped through them. He froze when he saw Sunnëva holding her.

Papa never froze.

The darkness coiled behind him and Hela felt the storm inside of him too.

“Sunnëva,” Rune greeted. His voice was calm, but something in it wasn’t. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sunnëva replied as she stroked Hela’s hair. “I merely came to visit your sweet child. The Heavens have been very curious about her.”

Tension fell over Papa, his wings tightening behind him as his red eyes widened. Hela had never seen him make that expression before.

“Why would they be curious?” he asked in his stern king voice.

“Well,” Sunnëva said evenly, “Hela is the progeny of a Seraph and a Primordial.” Her gaze flicked toward him. “That is rather extraordinary… if not alarming.”

Papa’s six wings snapped behind him, dragon scales rippling with hellfire. His eyes glowed bright red, which only happened when he was angry or... Hela looked at his clawed hands. They were shaking.

Horns grew from his brow with each step he took forward.

Rune’s fangs flashed as he said in a low, seething voice, “Return my daughter at once.”

“She’s quite precious,” Sunnëva mused. “You were fortunate to raise her this long without danger looming over her head.” She gave him a look that made the shadows around the room writhe. “Though I suppose it looms over your Realm now. You have always been content to cradle danger.”

Hela didn’t understand what they were saying. Something felt wrong, but she knew they were speaking about her. She was the something that was wrong.

Her heart began to pound and her breathing quickened.

“Hela,” Papa called to her. “Come here.”

Hela tried to move, but the Goddess of Death held onto her, and she suddenly couldn’t use her magic to slip away. Then she felt something even worse than sad-mad. She felt fear.

The storm in her chest swelled. Stronger. She tried to hold it in, but it was too big to keep inside.

Hela shook, and magic flared from her hands. Her eyes welled. “Papa…”

“Sunnëva,” Rune exclaimed. “Let her go!”

The storm inside her broke free.

Shadow and light burst from Hela in a violent wave. The throne room shook, sending fissures through the walls. The violent tempest threw Rune and Sunnëva backward. Debris rained down, smoke choking the air. Then the castle stopped shaking.

Hela stood at the center of the destruction inside a glowing red dome. Rune’s shield. Her chest heaved, tears welling in her eyes. She did it again.

“Papa?” She looked around her desperately. Did she hurt him, too? “Papa!”

A familiar groan came from behind her. He pushed himself upright in the rubble. Blood trickled down his temple, but he was smiling.

“Hela, darling,” he murmured softly. “Are you all right?”

Hela burst into tears.

Rune approached, but she backed away and hid behind a broken pillar.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

She sobbed, shaking her head.

“That’s good,” he said, kneeling. He briefly brushed her arms and shoulders, checking for injuries. “I’m glad you’re unharmed.”

Her lip wobbled. “I break things.”

“That’s all right, baby girl. I break things too.” Rune held out his arms, and she ran into them. He held her tightly to his chest. His heart was racing.

“Do you fear me Papa?”

“Fear?” He cupped her cheek and brushed her tears away. “I could never fear this sweet face.”

Her voice trembled. “You won’t send me away?”

Rune’s throat tightened, and his red eyes misted. “Oh, no, little darling. Never.” He gathered her into his arms. “Why would I send away my greatest treasure?”

Hela cried harder, clutching his cloak. Mama and Aunt Calla came running in through a broken door. Their wide eyes took in the destroyed room.

Alora ran to them and stroked her face. “Gods, what happened?”

“She’s all right.” Rune assured her as he stood.

“The Heavens had reason for concern,” Sunnëva said, watching Hela warily. “Power like that rarely develops without consequence. It may be best to have Hela stay with—”

Rune’s burning gaze bore into hers, and when he spoke, his voice reverberated through Karag Dûr with terrifying finality. “My daughter belongs to the Netherworld. The Heavens have no claim over who she becomes. And if they wish to challenge that, the might of the Seven Hells shall fall upon them.”

The silvery sheen of a god’s promise swept through the air.

Then Papa and Mama carried her away into the dark.

***

The crimson moonlight spilled through the tall windows, bathing Hela’s bedchamber in a soft glow. Spider lilies glittered in pots along the shelves, their red petals bright in the dark. A bed draped in black velvet sat beneath a painted ceiling of stars. She settled on the large pillows, and Rune pulled the covers to her chin.

“Shall I sing you to sleep, my sweet bloom?” Alora asked, laying Scraps beside her.

“Yes, Mama, but I want to introduce you to my new friend first!” Hela announced.

“A new friend?” Rune repeated as he settled into the chair next to the bed.

“Come out, little snack,” she called.

A small black snake slithered out of Hela’s pocket and wove around her wrist like a bracelet. Papa and Mama went still.

“Open,” Hela said. The snake opened its mouth obediently and she dropped a crumb of mooncake inside. “There you go.”

Mama’s brows lifted. “Darling, that creature is not a snack.”

“No, he eats snacks. Mooncake is his favorite, too.”

“And where did you find your new friend?”

Hela shrugged. “Under my bed this morning.”

Alora and Rune shared a look.

“Well, it seems our daughter has a familiar,” Papa muttered.

A familiar? That meant he would be her closest friend, like Nexus was for Mama.

Alora sat on the bed and stroked the snake’s head with a finger. “What’s his name?”

“Hmm…” Hela scrunched her face, thinking hard. “Jormun!”

The snake hissed, small tongue flicking against her cheek, and Hela laughed. She curled under the blankets as Jormun slid up her sleeve.

“I assume it will only get bigger,” Rune muttered to Alora, frowning.

Mama sighed fondly. “Jormun will grow as she does. In both age and magic.”

Hela hugged Scraps tighter. That suddenly didn’t seem exciting anymore. Others kept whispering about what she would become, and no one sounded happy about it.

What if… she became something everyone feared?

“What kind of person do you want me to be when I grow up?” Hela asked, thinking of what the Goddess of Death had said.

Rune brushed her hair back. “Hela,” he said softly. “My only wish for you is that you live a happy life. Right here, with us.”

Hela smiled sleepily. That’s all she wanted, too. “My wish is that in your long, long life… you and Mama are not scared of anything.”

Rune took Alora’s hand and a soft look passed between them.

“That is a lovely wish,” Mama said, kissing her goodnight.

Then Mama hummed Hela’s favorite melody about the dragon in the Hollow Mountain. The candles dimmed. And within moments, she was drifting to sleep.

Soft whispers carried in the quiet.

Mama and Papa stood together at the window, arms wrapped around each other as they watched the Blood Moon rise over the Netherworld.

“You handled that well,” Alora murmured.

Rune exhaled heavily. “I have faced gods, Primordials, and death itself. Yet nothing in the Realms terrifies me more than losing her.”

Alora laid her head on his chest. “Who would dare incur the wrath of the King and Queen of Shadows? Nothing is touching our daughter.”

Hela snuggled deeper into the blankets with Scraps in her arms and a smile on her lips. With Mama and Papa watching over her, she would always be safe.

Hela dreamed of flying.

Jormun had grown and she rode him high above the Seven Hells, laughing as the wind tugged at her raven hair. They soared over endless fields of flowers that now filled the Realm of Envy, where every glowing bloom painted the hills in colors brighter than butterfly wings. They raced through the Wrath Realm, weaving between towering volcanoes while rivers of fire glowed far below like ribbons of melted rubies.

They circled home, where the black sands and scarlet spider lilies swayed beneath crimson skies. Hela waved at the sapphire Azure tree as they passed.

Then she flew higher. Higher than the Blood Moon. Higher than the stars. Because she always tried to reach it.

The place called the Mortal Realm.

Her tutors said it had a great golden sun that chased away the night each morning before disappearing again. Hela couldn’t imagine such a thing. Light burned her people. Did it burn mortals too? Did their flowers sleep when the sun did? She thought perhaps the sun was simply another moon that forgot what color it was supposed to be.

Hela always woke before she reached it.

Even so, she hoped that one day she would.

THE END

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