4. Chapter Four #2
“No, sir. My deepest apologies. I will carry this out immediately.” Orlen rushes from the room in a near run to destroy all ten messengers who delivered the message from King Sarek with his declaration of the dissolution of our peace treaty.
I will bleed all in his land to fuel my weapons and win the war against the queen he has decided is more worthy of his amity.
Not only has he given oath to Zantara, but he has given Evelia to her son.
Something he has done to spit in my face as a mockery for all the times I pleaded for her to be mine.
No more will I ask. I will pry everything he loves from his traitorous grasp until he feels empty and remorseful.
At which point, I will end him while drawing out the agony until he pleads for his existence to cease.
Evelia and the prince will be wed before the moon rises into the sky.
Sarek makes sure to emphasize the blood bond he is allowing between the newly betrothed.
A blood bond that will make it so she can never be mine in any true way.
All the times I pleaded for her hand as payment for my loyalty and to strengthen both our kingdoms, he acted insulted that I dare demand his daughter could be given to anyone.
Now he hands her over to the son of our greatest foe.
A stranger touching my rose ignites a wrath so great that I scorch two of my soldiers without intention.
They fall to ashes from the flames I lash out with and rein them back in before they can destroy my entire castle.
The betrayal is incomprehensible and demands the gravest of retributions as the price the traitor will pay to me.
Before that can occur, I will take the one thing I will never destroy.
Evelia will be cherished and my greatest prize.
My perfect, beautiful dancer for me to possess for eternity.
The only warmth I will allow into my heart.
I charge to my tallest tower of my onyx castle, up all the winding stairs to the top window, stepping onto the ledge and falling forward.
I increase my speed to the east, where the overdone golden castle rests.
No amount of wealth will spare him. I have to make it before they bind their vows in blood, and it seals her from belonging to anyone else.
Only my blood will claim her. The crown prince of Vodiem can’t be allowed the bond I have so long craved.
I slither through the window of the servants’ wing and return myself to a solid form.
A maid drops the white linen in her arms and gapes.
I dissolve my hand back into smoke and wrap it around her neck until she collapses.
I do the same to anyone else who appears in my path.
King Sarek should have remembered when he crossed me he’d given me many tours of his castle to brag about his riches. His ego will bring his downfall.
He thought I cared about his shimmering marble floors, golden walls, and exotic decor.
The tapestries and statues are much too vivid and adorn every hall I pass.
I strangle any guards rather than letting them only nap like I do the servants.
Her room is two doors away, and I lick my lips in anticipation of finally claiming her.
The four soldiers blocking the way to the thing I want most spot me and pull out their swords.
My arms become inky vines that I use to knock the warning horn from the first’s lips before I crush his windpipe.
The second and third go down easily, but the last is a stubborn idiot who dodges my whips.
For his audacity, strangulation is too kind, so I slice through his neck and let his head roll down to the feet of a gaudy, jeweled statue of Sarek.
Evelia's room is empty except for a blonde maid making up the large cedar bed. “Where is the princess?”
The woman screams and backs against a small end table. I wrap a tentacle around her waist, pinning her arms to her side and slamming her to the wall. “Where is she? Tell me, and I may only send you into temporary nightmares.”
“She’s being wed! Please! I have children.”
“Tell me where she is!”
“She’s in the cathedral about to be wed.”
I set her on the ground. “You chose to have those children in the wrong kingdom. I suggest you find another.”
I storm toward the throne room. An abundance of ebony tentacles thrash my rage behind me as I shove both ceiling-high doors open at once with such force they slam against the ornate walls, cracking the fancy woodwork.
The room is full of two kingdoms divided by an aisle of white rose petals.
The same petals are scattered throughout the cathedral, and with a wave of my hand, I turn them all to ash.
Zantara’s citizens all have on tall hats and place their chairs farther apart than Sarek’s side.
The priest holds a sacred dagger with symbols on the blade that, when filled with blood, creates a thread between two people.
The entire scene infuriates me, but it’s the tears trickling down Evelia’s cheeks that enrage me.
“No one sent me an invitation! Such poor etiquette.” My tentacles grow and double, and I wrap them around members of the audience sitting in their fancy blue satin chairs.
Some slam into the walls with thuds and cracks, while others I slice through their abdomens and necks.
A few I beat into the ground. It's their fault for participating in such an offensive event.
The melody of their tormented screams breathes enthusiasm into my task.
Hats and heads fly around the room in a gruesome vortex as I fling my arms wide, and all the blue and red stained glass windows shatter.
Any guards that rush at me join the guests as my wrath destroys anything that moves in the room.
Anything except those with the greatest sin, who stand on the platform, forcing my midnight rose into an unthinkable marriage and blood bond.
“Lazzus! Stop this!” Sarek rises from his throne that sits behind the priest.
“Your words lost their sway the moment you united with her.” I shoot a tentacle toward the queen, who sits next to Sarek, but it goes right through her wobbly image.
“You’re a coward because you can’t face me, witch.
You have to send a projection here for your son’s wedding.
Your stupidity has left your heir unprotected. ”
“And your cruelty demands a curse that I will deliver to your door. Many curses shall give you centuries of torment. I vow it on my kingdom!” The queen’s blonde hair is piled on top of her head like a boulder holds up her tangled curls.
The white powder on her face pales her to the point she looks undead, and it’s emphasized further by her small crimson lips.
Her long oval face and delicate nose give all the glory to her vivid blue eyes.
Blood and bones do well to replace the petals as a decorative carpet to honor my walk to the front.
“I’ve only come to collect what’s rightfully mine.
” I rip out her son’s heart, and it beats against my palm.
“This will give some nice assurances that you will never send anything but blessings to my kingdom.”
The prince falls to his knees, clutching his chest, and I melt his flesh back together, relishing the way he squeals.
The heart remains in the air behind me, wrapped securely from any prying hands, and the prince only continues to live while my magic sustains him.
It would be so easy to crush him for daring to stand in front of Evelia, like he has any right to marry her.
I squeeze the heart, and the prince gasps.
“Stop!” The sweetest voice is all that extends my mercy to the prince, and I obey her command. It’s needed anyway as an assurance the queen won’t interfere. If she does, I will send her son to the afterrealm.
I rip out the priest’s heart next. “I will be taking the binding oath with Evelia instead of this putrid hog. If anyone interferes, both hearts will be crushed.”
“This will not be the end, Lazzus! You will pay!” The king lunges at me with his sword drawn.
I slam him back onto his throne and toss his sword across the room. My tentacles secure him so tightly his face reddens, then pales like he might pop. “You betrayed the wrong friend. Years of our alliances making both our kingdoms prosper, and you turn against me! After all I’ve done for you!”
He wheezes, struggling to break free. “Look at the room. The death... you’ve brought.”
“Stop! Please! I’ll marry you. Just put my father down.” Evelia drops to her knees as she pleads with me.
“No! Evelia! No!”
I squeeze him before setting him on the ground, but I keep the tip of one tentacle on his chest to prevent interference. “Start the ceremony!” I keep my eyes on the priest and hover thick smoke over the holy man to remind him I can stop his heart.
He clears his throat and reads from the small leather book in his left palm as he reaches for Evelia’s hand.
After she accepts his offer, he slices a gash across her palm and repeats the same to me.
Blood pours from both our wounds, and he places our hands together as he seals the bond.
We end it with vows nothing can sever, not even the most powerful magic.
Warmth wraps around me as the thread locks into place.
I return the heart to the priest to lessen the ire of vengeful gods.
A small piece of the prince's heart goes into my pocket for later control.
A piece no one will notice missing until it's too late, and then I toss the rest across the room.
If he can find a servant to call, they can fetch his heart for him.
Otherwise he can die or crawl to it. He'll have about fifteen minutes to do so before I release my magic and waste no more time on him.
King Sarek's face contorts, and I wedge him into a crystal chandelier far from the ground.
I take my bride into my arms and leap out one of the windows I broke earlier.