The uncontrollable power lurking beneath Princess Alethia's skin can either be the savior of the Four Kingdoms or its destruction.
Princess Alethia was raised on three principles: (1) Mercy is for the weak, (2) Emotions are an unwanted distraction...
a/n: And the final part! I hope you guys are enjoying Ren's POV so far. Don't be shy! Share your thoughts and don't forget to vote and share :)
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"Aydin," Sephirah choked out as she reached towards him. He remained unresponsive, still mumbling under his breath.
Ren moved closer, straining his eyes until the distinctive word, "Stop," came forth.
Stop what?
Ren's eyes narrowed as the prince raised his handcrafted dagger. His mind raced as he pieced together what was occurring. Those damn females had conjured up something that only he could see and suffer through.
Sephirah shot forward as Aydin's arm swung downwards, aimed at his stomach. The swarming thoughts in Ren's head flew out of his consciousness as he leaped into action.
As if in slow motion, Ren traced the arc of the dagger. He saw Sephirah's hand reach towards Aydin's arm, missing it by a hair. Ren grasped his axe, trying to yank it from its holster on his back. Aydin's face was grim as he stopped mumbling. Desperation churned in his eyes, but a spark of defiance was left in its wake.
Ren heard Sephirah gasp as the dagger pierced through his middle, blood instantly gushing from the wound. It trailed down his chin, staining his teeth as his lips pulled into a gruesome smile of victory.
The rugs began to curl inward as black smoke rose from their surface. Fire crinkled off the outline of Sephirah's body as her eyes glowed with the wrath that promised a goddess of war's ruthlessness.
Shit.
Ren had less than ten seconds to calm her down before the entire camp was turned to ashes and they had a whole new set of enemies after them. Aydin gurgled on blood, his face draining all color as the dagger dissipated. He tethered, catching himself with a red stained hand on the rug. Wincing from the heat that rolled off them.
Already sweat was soaking Ren's back. He turned to the princess whose eyes were staring at Aydin with horror. "Calm down. I can heal him, Sephirah."
She blinked, her eyes snapping to him. "Heal him. Do it now."
Ren quirked an eyebrow at the demand. "I should let the bastard die. He's good-for-nothing."
"But you won't," Sephirah said sharply, her shoulders drawing back as she glared down her nose at him. "I will kill you and everyone in this camp before I ever let him die."
Ren tossed her a dismissive hand gesture. "I'm quaking in my boots. Cool down, you insane woman."
Aydin coughed up blood, more spilling out of his mouth onto the rug, pooling to mix in with the rest coming out of his abdomen. Ren walked over to the prince, ignoring the squishing feeling in his boots as they dug into the tarnished rugs.
He pushed against Aydin's shoulders, who obediently laid on his back. His hazel eyes were rolling to the back of his head. Sephirah loomed over Ren, worry and concern overwhelming her wrath and causing her lips to press together tightly.
