Ethereal: Trials of the Damned (On Hold!)

Chapter 0: Eye of Realms

WREN

His tongue was down the throat of the handmaiden when he felt his beloved's impending demise. Wren immediately pushed the servant away and clutched onto the handles of the chair as her final moments engulfed him. She was on the edge, floating between life and death. And the magical barrier that separated their realms no longer existed. His mind had fallen in line with her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. He felt everything, from her distress and panic, to her pounding heart. Soon, his body throbbed in excruciating pain. Within seconds, he was shaking uncontrollably. He clenched his hands into fists, grinding his teeth. It wasn't long until he could not breathe. He pushed through the agony, knowing it was only a matter of time before she would give up the fight. And when it finally ended, he smiled.

Wren grabbed a glass of whiskey from the side table and knocked it back. There was no reason to mourn her loss. She would soon be in a much better place, in his arms.

"Is she...?" Zarana trailed off.

He didn't look at her, but he instantly shielded his mind. He couldn't risk her searching through his head and ruining his plans. "Yes."

"Wipe that grin off your face," Zarana chided. "She will be the death of you."

He scoffed, slamming the glass back onto the table. His eyes darted to silver-haired beauty standing against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Leave," he commanded.

"Wren," she called out. "The prophecy is unfolding. There's a war raging outside the castle walls. Our people are dying. You need to take this more seriously!"

Wren smirked. He stared at her icy blue orbs as he made his way towards her. In one quick motion, he pulled her into him. His fingers caressed her cheek, brushing the stray locks of hair away. Before she could ask him what he was doing, his head dipped to the side of her neck. Her breath hitched almost instantly, and he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her. Slowly, he trailed his lips up her jawline, and to her ear.

"Jealousy," he whispered, "becomes you. I was growing rather bored with the good girl shtick."

"You're drunk," she sneered, immediately breaking away from his hold.

His response was quick. "Hardly."

"Unlike you," she began, "I care about this Kingdom. I care about our people. And all you care about is a human." She wrinkled her nose before turning away. "She has you by the balls and she doesn't even know you exist."

Wren grabbed onto Zarana's forearm and pulled her into him once again.

"Regardless of how you feel, I am your prince, and you will show me respect," he hissed. He couldn't believe she had the gall to insult his love as though she were nothing more than a mere peasant. It seemed like he needed to remind Zarana that living in a castle did not make her royalty. It was a birthright, and she was nothing more than an adopted stray. "Apologize, deviant."

Zarana broke his gaze and muttered under her breath.

Wren pushed her up against the nearest wall. The loose white dress she'd worn scrunched up, the material clinging onto her small waist, exposing her lean legs. She struggled against his body, but he held her in place. He was much bigger than she was, and definitely stronger. The harder she fought, the tighter his grip got. "What was that?"

"I," Zarana shot back, through gritted teeth, "apologize."

He didn't miss her glare, or that she was unapologetic, but he let her go. At once, she took a step away from him and smoothed out the newly formed wrinkles on her long dress, seemingly unfazed.