Wings Of The Chosen (Published!)

Chapter 1

After five weeks of exhausting days, Jaime was outside—or, well, in the passenger seat of a car driving down a strip of highway. Pressing her forehead against the cool glass, she gazed out at the forest beyond the guardrail. The car flew past the towering trees. Below the crooked branches, darkness immersed the forest floor, yet her eyes rose to the treetops as they filtered the setting sun. It was as if a steady fire had engulfed the woods. A sea of warm colors from the changing leaves spread across the forest; merely the sight of it warmed Jaime's chilled skin.

Straightening up, she noticed the firm scowl still plastered across her husband's face.

"You guys played all right," she said, clasping her hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter.

"Your level of sarcasm never ceases to amaze me," Will grumbled.

Jaime leaned back in her seat, relaxing her tense muscles. "I've never seen thirty-year-olds get so upset about hockey," she replied. A forming foot—tiny, yet forceful—kicked her from inside her womb. A warm smile spread across her lips at this. She rubbed her belly and felt the full weight of her tender body as Will pressed on the brake, pushing her ballooned stomach against the seatbelt.

Will grinned, noticing his wife jolting a second time from another kick. "My boy getting his workout in there?" Grabbing his hand, Jaime placed it on her belly. "Good lord!" he exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up. "I'm surprised there isn't an imprint of his toes on my hand."

Jaime patted his hand, chuckling. "Light's green, babe."

Turning his attention back to driving, Will continued down the road.

Immersed in her thoughts, a frown stretched across Jaime's face. The first twenty-five weeks of her pregnancy had been brutal, not just on her changing body, but her state of mind, too. Every morning, she had puked in the toilet. The vomit had stung the back of her throat, doing nothing to improve her miffed mood. She recalled celebrating with a pint of ice cream when she went without vomiting for more than three days—a huge accomplishment.

As she caressed her bloated stomach, her mind drifted back to her life before the pregnancy. Back then, she'd wake up early, go on her morning run, enjoy a few drinks—sometimes more than a few—with her friends after a grueling day of work at the hospital.

Nowadays, she enjoyed the days when she didn't pee on herself after sneezing.

She also enjoyed the days, few and far between, that weren't interrupted by uneasy thoughts. Many nights, seeds of doubt burrowed themselves in her mind, creating uneasy tunnels she fell into at night. She'd toss and turn, unable to sleep as her husband snored beside her. Her sleep-deprived brain conjured up visions of messy diaper changes, daily temper tantrums, shrill cries bursting forth from a baby monitor—imagining the constant responsibility of being a mother.

But now, she was no longer doubtful.

"We'll be pretty great parents, won't we?" she asked Will, stroking his hand that clutched the gear shift.

"No doubt," Will replied. "I'm sure he'll actually appreciate my jokes, unlike you," he teased.

"Honey, your jokes are terrible."

"That's not what he'll think!"

Jaime rolled her eyes and chuckled. "All awful jokes aside, thanks for taking me out. I'm glad I came."

Will squeezed her hand. "I knew you'd have fun," he said. "We'll have to get some dinner with everyone soon. Finally, I can be the drunken idiot since you can drive me around for the next few weeks!" Immediately, he put his hand up defensively. "Just kidding, just kidding! Please don't hurt me."

A sudden surge of rain interrupted their conversation. Waves of heavy drops splattered across the windshield, obscuring the road. Cursing, Will switched on the windshield wipers, but it was barely any help—relentless sheets of water whipped the window, causing him to slow the car down to a crawl. Jaime peered outside, squinting. Vivid lightning streaks splintered the now darkened sky, illuminating the road with bright flashes. Deep rumbles of thunder rolled across the forest as the trees thrashed about like toothpicks in a tornado. A fractured branch slapped Jaime's window, startling her. She gripped the sides of her seat, knuckles paling from her tight grasp.

"Damn! This came out of nowhere. Was it supposed to storm tonight?" Will asked, struggling to find the white lines on the road.

"I don't know," Jaime said. "I didn't see any clouds a few minutes ago."

Your unborn spawn is doomed!

Jaime blinked. Had she heard that? Her eyebrows knitted together as she scanned the backseat, searching for the origin of the noise. With perked ears, she listened for another odd whisper, but none came. She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead—it was clammy and cold, just as she expected. Glancing down at the radio, she heard the song that ebbed from its speakers. She was fairly certain "Bulls on Parade" didn't have lyrics matching up with the words she'd just heard, or thought she heard.

His soul will belong to the Master!

This time, the words boomed in her ears; there was no doubt she'd heard the cryptic message. Her whole body shuddered as an icy chill crawled up her spine. The disembodied voice, gruff and menacing, felt inhuman and detached—not of her world.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, switching the radio off.

"Hear what, babe?" Will said, keeping his eyes forward.

"I don't know..." Jaime rested her hands on her stomach, fingers tracing its smooth curves. "I thought I heard—"

They will not save this one.

Like a heavy overdose of anesthetic, the voice paralyzed Jaime, but not as much as the sight of the beast it belonged to. A hulking figure emerged from the forest, flying parallel to the car. Curved horns protruded from its massive head and scratched the side of her door. Leathery wings flapped behind its muscular, crimson body. Spikes, as sharp as newly forged swords, jutted from its skin, threatening to pop the car's tires as it careened closer towards her.

Locking eyes with the beast, Jaime clutched her chest, her heart thumping harder and harder against it.

"Honey, what is it?" Will questioned, arching an eyebrow at his wife.

Twirling flames burst towards Jaime, leaping from the beast's outstretched hand.

"Jaime! Babe, what's wrong?"

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"Jaime!?"

Succumbing to the severe convulsions rippling through her body, Jaime's arms flailed like the branches of the wind-whipped trees outside.

Your son will burn!

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