Dhellia: The Dhellia Series, #1

By April M. Reign

Daughter of Darkness.
Father turned foe.
Brace for a supernatural clash!

In the mysterious realm of the underworld, a princess finds herself shackled by the chains of her own lineage. Dhellia Hunt, the young and spirited daughter of Lucifer and Adana is burdened with unrelenting duties and the weight of her infernal birthright. With the help of her brother, Damien, she makes a daring choice to escape her gilded prison.

With every step she takes, Dhellia unearths secrets long buried in the depths of her ancestry. As she flees the clutches of her own father, the infamous Lucifer, she realizes that abandoning her birthright comes at a heavy price. Hunted relentlessly, Dhellia must tap into hidden reserves of strength and unlock dormant powers she never knew she possessed.

Dhellia's rebellion against her own bloodline becomes a beacon of hope in the darkest corners of the underworld. As she fights to reclaim her freedom, Dhellia encounters a multitude of allies and enemies alike, navigating a treacherous landscape of intrigue, betrayal, and the ethereal boundaries of good and evil.

Will Dhellia's newfound powers be enough to overcome the relentless forces aligned against her? Unveiling a world where warlocks conjure forbidden spells, vampires lurk in the shadows, and the very essence of evil manifests itself in the form of Lucifer. Join Dhellia on her heart-pounding journey as she unravels the truth of her heritage, forges her own destiny, and confronts the darkest depths of her own soul.

• Language: English
• Publisher: April M. Reign
• Release date: May 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224839032

Book preview

Prologue

The claws of Father’s hellhounds clicked against the asphalt somewhere behind me. No matter how far away they were, their sounds echoed in my head. Sharp claws digging into the solid ground of the dimension they navigated. The sound of their labored panting sent shivers through my body.

I had been running from those beasts for three months, and the only time I’d been able to lose them was when I’d showed up in a densely populated city. Where there were many people, there were crimes; where there were crimes, the hellhounds would lose their focus on me and salivate in their playground of sin.

I had lost them in Bangkok and again in New York City, but today, I resigned from being their quarry in Father’s relentless pursuit. Today, I simply waited for the hellhounds to catch up with me. It was time to turn myself in—time to stand up to my father and tell him that I wanted to live my life. After all, in two weeks, I’d be twenty-one years old.

I kneeled on one knee on the roof of the tallest building in Los Angeles and waited. While I watched the sun set behind the horizon, the sky turned orange and then black. The tingle in my body told me that Father’s hellhounds were finally closing in on me. And I was ready for them.

I’m Dhellia Hunt, the daughter of Lucifer and Adana. I’m twenty years old, and this is my story.

Chapter One

The view from the top of the US Bank Tower gave me access to observe the entire city of Los Angeles. The twinkling lights of homes and buildings, streetlights, and stoplights were nothing more than mere stars on Earth as viewed from this height.

The Santa Ana winds blew my long red hair off my face and whipped it at my back. Winds like the Santa Ana’s were the natural process that cleansed the polluted air of toxins. I wished the same wind could cleanse the toxins from my existence. In my case, the toxins in my life were my origins of evil.

I gazed down on the city below—the city I had come to love and in which I now waited patiently for Father’s faithful beasts to stand before me with his message.

I was no stranger to the big city, nor was I a stranger to Father’s hellhounds. Both could be evil, yet intriguing, if I took the time to appreciate what they individually had to offer. Nevertheless, I wasn’t here to evaluate humans, nor was I here to evaluate beasts from Hell. I was here because I was tired of running—I was tired of dodging my father in order to have some freedom.

I had run away from home against my father’s orders. He had demanded that I remained under his watch. Although I was twenty years old, my father’s orders were still the final say. His rules were somehow my constitution, though I disagreed with everything he tried to impose on me.

Tonight, I’d confront my father and demand my freedom to navigate between both worlds. It was time for me to spend part of my life on Earth and the other part at home, which I called downstairs. At least, that was my desperate hope. And these days, hope was all I had to fortify myself.

The flap of a leather jacket and the smell of rawhide indicated that my brother had arrived. Damien stood to my left, and although I didn’t need to look over to know it was him . . . I did.

I hadn’t seen him in three months and to my pleasure, he looked the same—brooding and serious with cherrywood colored hair that was long enough to sweep across the collar of his jacket.

His left foot was perched on the ledge of the building and his tight fists were at his side as he gazed into the tableau of twinkling lights that the city of Los Angeles served up like dreams. Although he hadn’t looked over at me, Damien’s lips twitched into a slight grin. He was a sophisticated male demon with sorrel-brown, penetrating eyes and a complex psyche.

My brother—my protector—was mysterious in any form, whether human or beast. Damien was a man of few words, but his body language spoke for him. Three years my senior, Damien’s wisdom far exceeded mine. He was a soul catcher and soul catchers were the pick of the litter. It took strength, speed, and endurance to do the kind of work that Damien did. Father trusted him to catch and bring confused, disoriented souls to trial. He was perfect for the job and an asset to the family business. Truth be told, I was not.

I glanced away from him and back at the city below. The brisk breeze whipped my hair through the wind. I closed my eyes and listened to the ticking time bomb of their clicking claws slowing down as they approached me. The hellhounds had arrived.

I was ready.

I slowly circled around to face them. They hid in the shadows, but I could smell their pungent unwashed canine body odor and fetid breath. I took one step forward and stopped, firmly planting my feet on the ground. I refused to let them bully me the way Father had intended. They were my subordinates, even if their orders came from the master of the underworld. Let’s face it, being Lucifer’s daughter, they needed to respect my position, even if I was a fugitive from Hell.

Slightly nervous, I glanced over my shoulder to pull strength from my brother, but he was still gazing out at the city below. From his side profile, the veins in his neck pulsated with an eagerness to thwart Father’s hellhounds and protect me as he had always done. Like molten lava, I could see the anger creep through his body. Soon, it would surge. I had no doubt that I was safe with my brother beside me.

When I turned my head and glanced back in front of me, Father’s largest hellhound stepped out from the deep shadows. Wolf stood firm on all four legs. He was six feet tall and six hundred pounds of mass destruction. Thick black fur stood ruffled on his hunched, rounded back. His steady growl, which started at his gut, revealed razor-sharp fangs. But it was in his yellow beady eyes, narrowed at me, that I could see his raw irritation. He circled to my left.

Zombie, his female counterpart, and Father’s prized hellhound bitch, circled to my right. She was leaner than Wolf, but her bite was worse than her bark. She glared at me through yellow, slanted eyes, and I watched the foaming saliva drip from the tips of her fangs, landing like corrosive acid on the rooftop.

When we were kids, we’d named Father’s precious hellhounds with names we could pronounce and understand. The names stuck with them in the way that any human’s pet’s nickname would. They answered when called by these names, but Damien and I were the only individuals who called them Wolf and Zombie.

I stood with both my feet symmetrically apart, ready for them to attack. Although they could not speak, they were able to communicate with us through telepathy and so, I asked the first question.

What do you two want with me?

Wolf stepped forward. Your father has sent us to bring you home.

And if I refuse to go? I knew that Father’s mutts would never take a chance of being at the short end of my father’s wrath. They’d drag me back to Hell before they’d let me walk away into the night.

You have no choice, Dhellia. Your father’s orders are concrete. They both paced back and forth in front of me.

I don’t belong downstairs. My home is here with the humans.

Wolf took another step toward me. These chew toys are not worthy of being in the presence of royalty. You, princess of darkness, mock your father with such treachery.

And you, Wolf, have no right to talk to me this way. I’d never been a treacherous person and I’d stand up and protect my honor at any price.

Zombie stepped forward. Her voice was higher pitched but as cold as ice. You’ve no choice. You’ve made us chase you around the world for three months and now you won’t get off this building without us taking you down.

The only reason you caught up with me, bitch, is because I let you catch me. I sucked in a deep breath. You can never outrun me, nor can you keep up with me.

She growled and took another two steps forward.

I stood still, my hands at my sides, my knees slightly bent, ready to play with these mutts. And play rough. Tell my father that I’m upstairs if he wants me.

Your father sent us to bring you back, Zombie growled.

With a smirk, I said, "Tell him that I’m playing with my chew toys."

Wolf began to pace, a low rumbling growl in his throat. He seethed, curled back his lips, and exposed his razor-sharp fangs. He was ready to attack. He leapt through the air toward me. I squatted down, swung my left arm outward in a sweeping motion, connecting hard against his side, and sent him across the top of the roof. I quickly turned my attention to Zombie, ready for her attack.

Zombie growled, As I said, you’ve no choice. Your father has instructed us to bring you back . . . dead or alive. And dead is fine with us.

A gust of wind hit my face as my brother flew past me. He had wrapped his hand around Zombie’s neck before I even knew what was happening. Blood dripped from the puncture wound made by my brother’s sharp nails and dripped down her fur into an acrid, steaming puddle on the ground—a puddle from which small flames briefly leapt on the concrete roof and then subsided. My brother, in all his glory, had transformed into his beast.

Damien, as his beast, was both beautiful and terrifying. His eyes were a blinding red—a red so deep that it hurt to look directly into them. His nails were long and razor-sharp, and his already long hair had suddenly grown three inches longer. His facial features were rugged and dark, formidable. My brother had not yet said anything, but everyone stopped and listened.

Wolf took a step back. Damien, it’s your father’s orders.