The Death Monarchs

By Whimsy Nimsy

He used me. 

 

He betrayed me. 

 

He locked me in a prison of never ending ice and snow, expecting me to die in the desolate cold. But for hundreds of years, I survived and thrived despite him. 

 

But now he's sent them to my door. 

The monster, the beast, and the butterfly of the elven court. 

Each of their hands marked with the symbol that strikes terror in all. 

His most loyal bloody killers. 

 

The Death Monarchs are here.

 

*The Death Monarchs is a Standalone Fantasy that takes place in the same Universe as The Villainess Survival Guide.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whimsy Nimsy
• Release date: Apr 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201940164

Book preview

Prologue

Drip

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Drip

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Drip…

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I watch as the dark red blood slowly mars the glistening snow. It adds to the gruesome streaks and splashes of the matching color that litter the courtyard. Not that it matters. In an hour, at the rate of the snowfall, they will be gone. Swallowed up by the cold, uncaring storm.

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I tilt my head as the man falls to his knees at my feet, releasing a strangled grunt. Hand to his gut, he looks down at it in shock before looking up at me. The blood starting to pool in his mouth tints his teeth red as he offers a cruel smile.

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You think you won, but it will never cease—cough, cough— You’ll rot here in this ice prison, bitch. He betrayed you, your belove—

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I snap his neck before he can speak that fucking asshole’s name. Just the thought has my nails digging into the skin of my palms. Tears of anger and pain trail down my cheeks, and I wish there were more men to kill.

Chapter One

SÍOFRA ~250 YEARS LATER

Potions, Potions, I like making potions, I sing to myself as I mix my very last bit of healing draught.

Once it’s all mixed and strained into a bottle, I pull off my necklace and carefully extend it above the vial. I focus my will on the dangling stone, and a drop of glowing purple essence falls from it and into the mixture. Its color quickly changes from the murky brown to a bright violet hue.

A screeching roar rattles the window above my desk. I look through the frost that creeps over the sides of the window. The flowers in the barely visible garden below still bloom despite the sheet of white that blankets them. A brief flash of black whips by the window, followed by a loud thunk.

A cheerful voice booms in my head. I brought you butterflies!!

Butterflies?

Yup! Come see! Come see!!

Excited at the prospect of something new, I push from my desk. I’m coming!

I quickly nab a cloak and head towards the massive bay doors that lead to my balcony.

Pudding is sitting on his haunches, chest puffed up proudly and wings splayed out behind him, blocking the harsh winds from the winter storm outside. His black scales glimmer like the night sky in stark contrast to the white marble balcony below him.His tail swishes behind him despite the howling wind.

He’s like a big cat, I swear. Feels like every week he’s dropping something off. I push open the door and step into the chilly air. Pudding nudges me with his head in greeting, and I pat his massive snout gently.

Why don’t you shrink down a bit so I can see what you brought me?

Kay!

With a poof, he shrinks and is sitting on a pile of… people?

Pudding, these are not butterflies. They appear to be men. I walk closer and take in the light blue lips and pale skin peeking out from under the hood of the closest guy. Possibly dead men, I mumble.

Nope, not dead. They got little pitter patters going still. And they are butterflies. Look. Using his little nose, he turns over one of the men’s hands. A skull butterfly marks the back of his hand.

Oh, well, look at that, Pudding. You’re right! How fun. Members of the Death Monarchs.

At Pudding’s blank look I elaborate, The world's deadliest group of assassins that are loyal only to the elven king. Bastard must be getting quite desperate.

Shall I eat them, roast them, or take them down to the cellar? he asks as the wind and snow start to pelt over us.

Let's just bring them inside for now. I’ll figure out what to do after that.

He and I each grab a leg of the top man and start to pull him through the balcony doors and into the building’s warmth.

How did they make it through the storm? I never get more than one or, at most, two assassins at a time due to the constant blizzard.

They were walking.

I reach up and push back the hood of our new guest. I stare dumbfounded for a moment at the deliciously gorgeous man on the floor. A perfectly angular jaw, pointed ears and long eyelashes. It’s a face gods might be jealous of. I don’t remember Death Monarchs being this attractive.

Well… except one. The King’s right-hand man and twin brother, Malic, with his piercing eyes that seemed to stare through me, and stunning tattoos that covered him from the neck down.

I lick my lips unconsciously. Memories of missed chances attempt to flit through my mind, but I ignore them choosing to focus on the stunning guy at my feet. This man seems thinner than him, but still just as pretty. Actually, now that I think about it, I suppose I only ever met one.

While I’m lost in my reverie, Pudding makes huffing noises as he tries to separate the other two men.

Is that so? This one seems far too pretty to be able to make it through that, I say as I wander out to help him push the extremely large man on top to the side. He is clinging with all his might to the man below him, so we end up rolling them both over.

Stop hugging him! Pudding demands of the giant man.

I sigh, giving up on prying them apart, and pull down the large man’s hood. Adorable black fuzzy ears with odd white stripes peek out of his hair, along with a strong jaw covered in a beard that has icicles hanging from