The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (48 page)

BOOK: The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe)
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“And, if I choose the contrary?”

“Then you must be accountable for your choice. You will be judged according to what you have done.”

A bolt of lightning hit the tree branch and John lurched sideways just in time, before it fell with a dea
fening crack on the ground where he’d stood. He swiftly got on his feet and plied his sword on all sides, searching for the Prince.

The forest greeted him with silence, save for the patter of rain on the leaves and the sporadic streaks of lightning, casting a silver incande
scence over the craggy landscape.

He could feel the Prince's presence near him, but his eyes seemed to have been deceived, into looking right through him.

Suddenly, the dried leaves on the ground crackled, from behind. John spun around and saw a figure emerge from the gloom coming straight towards him. He wielded his sword and swung it in an arc. The figure's head flew as his sword made contact. The headless body staggered, before it collapsed in a fit of seizures at his feet.

A sharp crash of thunder followed by a blinding flash of lightning forked and sizzled nearby. The intense burst of light washed away the darkness in the small clearing.

John gazed at the headless body before him and caught the sparkle of the large diamond ring on its finger.

He knew that ring. He had it specially made as a t
oken of his love for Catherine.

Catherine.

His heart hammered in his chest and his labored breath swirled before him in a mist. It could not be! He frantically searched for the head. He'd left her safe at home!

Another crack of lightning sliced through the black skies.

And there, in a bed of thick grass, her pale face nestled with eyes wide open, staring lifelessly into space. Her elegant neck had been severely mutilated by the sword's jagged blades, flesh hanging in bloody tatters and scattered everywhere. As he hurried to retrieve her head in an attempt to restore her, a bolt of white electricity hissed from the black sky and plunged downwards, igniting her carcass into a ball of flame, rapidly consuming her remains.

John felt his world disintegrate. He dropped to his knees and let out a shrill, mournful cry that reverberated throughout the deep woods and beyond.

“You have brought the destruction of your destiny upon yourself.” the Prince appeared before him. “You have chosen to be tempted by power and greed, and yet you blame your folly upon Providence and your heart rages against the Omni.”

“I have lost her because of the wretched distinction in our social class!” John abruptly stood up, with sword in hand and faced the Prince.

“You have lost her, because you lacked faith. Your impatience drove you to succumb to the temptation of taking matters into your own hands. If you had beseeched the Omni and trusted in Him, your request would have been granted.”

“I don't believe you!” John swept the sword in one stroke at the Prince.

The Prince caught the blades between his palms. “You shall be punished for your actions.”

The weapon turned into a serpent that bared its po
isonous fangs at John. He flung the creature away and stumbled backwards.

The Prince sank the dagger-like claws of one hand beneath John’s jaw and picked him up. He hoisted him at eye-level and forcibly arched his throat, ignoring his fierce struggles.

“I shall take back what had been generously given,” he growled in his ear, before John felt his canines sink into his flesh, sucking the very life out of him.

A multitude of pictures flashed in his mind. Pictures of his privileged childhood, his doting parents, his bea
utiful home, Catherine gazing lovingly at him. He saw every happy memory, every fortunate advantage he had in his life. His affluence in everything overshadowed the reasons for his unwise decisions.

“You are thus banished from light and condemned to perpetual darkness,” the Prince's voice drifted in his co
nsciousness, and John found himself alone in a dark, desolate land, save for a sprinkling of trees and crop, planted in small beds on the ground.

“You are forfeited of the gifts of the mind, beauty, and prowess.” The Prince materialized on the roof of a tiny lone dwelling a few yards away from him.

John felt his body contort. He touched his face and felt the pits and ridges of disfigurement. His hands knotted and twisted into bony gnarls, and his legs curved and stiffened, making him hobble.

“You shall remain in this limbo until your heart is full of contrition, and you have learned and unde
rstood the virtues of patience, faith and love.”

Thunder rolled in the clouds and a big gust of wind came, picking up dirt and shaking the leaves off the trees.

The Prince's image began to fade away.

“No! You can't leave me here!” John screamed, lurching after him, but his hands touched nothing but air.

“Prove yourself worthy,” the Prince's voice resonated from everywhere. “The Omni is a merciful God. You must return into the circle of His grace.”

“But how?” John whipped his head from side to side, desperately seeking the Prince.

“Get to know Him.” The Prince's words grew fainter in the distance, as a silver-bound book fell from the skies, penetrating the darkness and coming to rest at John's feet.

Chapter 65

Love Transcends All Boundaries

 

       Prince William found Elizabeth crouched behind the thick shrubs, shaking and staring blankly into space. She was in severe shock from the horrifying ordeal she had just gone through.

He took off his black leather combat jacket and helped her into it, buttoning the front to conceal her torn dress. “Come, my love.” He helped her to her feet, e
nfolding her in his arms. “It's over.”

She clung to him like a frightened child. “D-don't ever leave me again,” her voice trembled in his ear.

He framed her face with his hands. “I'll never, ever leave you.” A tear slithered down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

“We must go back and find the ot
hers.” He stroked her tangled hair. “Do you still remember how I propelled us over the enclosure of Darian Hall in Combat Class?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. “We’ll have to do the same thing over those trees.” He pointed at the dense woods bordering the highway. 

“Y-you can jump that far and that high?” Her eyes grew round. “With me riding on your back?”

“I can do whatever I put my mind to.” He kneeled on one knee and she climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck as he secured her legs around his waist.

He gauged their position and broke into a fast run, then sprang from the ground as they approached the wooded area. They sailed over the treetops and landed in the middle of the smoke-hazed battleground. He felt Elizabeth stiffen and shudder.

“Are you all right? Can you walk?” he asked over his shoulder.

She wordlessly slid off his back, and then clutched his arm tightly.

“Your Highness.” General Bradford, together with an Officer wearing the colors of John Drake's army, approached and bowed. “We regret to inform you that we have not found any other survivors apart from Major Greer.” The General's gaze shifted onto Elizabeth. “We have located the former Queen. She was decapitated and the body had been burned. I'm sorry.”

Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face and wailed.

Prince William held her in a comforting embrace as she dealt with the pain of realizing that her mother had no hope of recovery. His heart filled with compassion at how alone she must feel in losing the only family she'd ever known.

After a short period of silence broken only by Eli
zabeth's sobs, the Officer with General Bradford cleared his throat.

“What can I do for you, General Rochester?” He regarded the tall, dark-haired Alpha Deimon who was also known as Maximillian Rochester, Duke of Thornton, who had been working for the crown as a spy under the alias General Robinson. He had successfully infiltrated John Drake's organization for the past two years, sending important data on the extent of his infl
uence, his military portfolio, and financial resources.

“Your Highness, may I request a word in private?”

“Very well.” Prince William nodded and kissed Elizabeth on the forehead. “I won’t be long.”

“Your Highness, I must beg your pardon for my b
elated determination of John Drake's plans,” General Rochester said, as they moved out of earshot. “He revealed his scheme only minutes prior to our departure from his base camp. I could not send intelligence reports without being compromised.”

“I understand. I would not have wanted you to e
ndanger yourself for information that would most likely come too late due to the expeditious turn of events.” Prince William flicked his eyes towards Elizabeth. “I must return to the Princess—, is there anything else you have in mind?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he lowered his voice. “It concerns Colonel Alexus Gunter.”

“I'm listening.” The Prince observed Elizabeth with a worried frown as she picked up an object from the ground.

 

Elizabeth watched the Prince go a short distance beyond hearing range with General Rochester. She glanced around the hazy battle zone. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air and piles of ashes littered the blood-soaked highway.

Everything had happened so fast. In less than an hour, she had lost everything she held dearest to her—, her mother and her two best friends. Her hope for Bryan had been crushed by General Bradford's claim that they'd found no survivors.

The horrific events of the battle came back to her full force. Flashes of the brutal assault Bryan suffered and her mother's terrible demise by the hands of her captor flickered in her head. A more vivid rendering of Chad's violent death, played like a scene from a movie, before her very eyes.

Her knees wobbled and she knelt on the asphalt road, inundated by grief. As she furiously blotted her lids with the fabric of her torn dress, som
ething caught her eye. She bent to retrieve the broken chain with twin silver identification tags on the pavement.

The name embossed on the tags made her fingers shake.

Gunter

Alexus C.

Alpha 111

ESWC

She clutched the bloodstained metal plates to her heart and cried.

“Elizabeth,” the Prince's voice penetrated her so
rrow, as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Come, we must go.” He pulled her to her feet and his eyes rested on the silver chain in her grasp. He gently pried her fingers open and took it from her hand. A few moments had passed before he spoke again. “Do you love him?” He rubbed the metal plate with his thumb as he looked directly into her eyes.

She steeled herself with the courage to say, what she needed to say. “Yes.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. He handed the chain back to her and looked away.

“William—”

“Elizabeth—,” he interjected with a wounded gaze and she saw the moisture gathering on his lids, “if you don't wish to come back to England with me—, you don't have to. If you can learn to love me—, the way you loved him.” His eyes flicked to the chain in her hand. “If you will have me, I'll speak with my father. We'll live at the Palladian.” He went on one knee and kissed the pulse on her wrist. “I love you, Elizabeth. You are all that matters to me. I'll abdicate the crown—, if that’s what it takes for you to marry me and be my wife.”

“Oh, William . . .” She kissed his hair, with tears in her eyes. In spite of the tragedy she had just gone through, his desperate plea touched her heart so deeply that it soared with the special kind of love she felt for him and him alone.

She cradled his face in her palms and brushed a lock of hair from his brow. His long dark lashes swept upwards to reveal the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen in her life. She kissed the bridge of his nose and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Chad is my dearest friend. It is you that I love and always loved. It's time for me to come home, and yes—, I'll marry you—, but you'll have to wait until I'm eighteen.”

Relief visibly mingled with the slow smile that rose on his lips and he clasped her in a strong embrace. Then, he suddenly picked her up and twirled her in a circle in the middle of the battlefield.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear, as he let her slide down the length of his body to her feet.

“I wish my mom was here.” Tears sprang anew in her eyes as she leaned her head on his shoulder and cried.

“I know, my love.” He rested his chin on top of her head.

 

At the other end of the battle site, Sophia was preparing to leave with Silvia, David, and Philippe, when she heard a small sound. She paused and listened more intently. A faint moan reached her ears. She whipped her head to the left and took cautious steps toward the direction of the sound. Another muted whimper riveted her eyes on the white BMW stuck in a ditch by the roadside. She peered into the interior of the car.

Nothing.

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