Star-crossed Royals

Chapter Twelve

The sun spilling through the window woke William from the short respite his wife had given him to sleep after a long night spent enjoying their alone time in Hawaii. They’d decided to spend a few weeks away from the myriad of clans they constantly maintained rule over to get some time to themselves for Christmas, a rare occasion in their marriage. William’s wife, Jennifer or Jenny as he called her, was just happy that she didn’t have to share his attention for the time being. There had been ten years of great poverty in America, and the war was raging around the world, but it seemed that America was finally coming out of its depression. William looked at Jenny sleeping so peacefully beside him and laughed quietly to himself.

“Ye’d never know this wee angel was no but a devil last night,” he thought wryly.

He sat up to admire the way her chestnut hair caught the morning light, reminding him of the first night he’d spent with her. He’d been glad every morning he’d been able to spend with her since, and he often spent the first moments of the day enjoying the face of the women who was so wholly his.

“It’s going to be the death of ye if you don’t get some sleep,” Jenny thought, a smile beginning at the corner of her mouth, “I did no give ye much rest last night.”

“You’ll no get any rest from me today if you keep giving me shite woman,” William returned with their link, his hand swatting her butt playfully.

Jenny pushed herself against his hand, wiggling herself playfully, “Promise?”

William growled deeply, “Ah no this mornin, mo nighean donn.”

Jenny made a pouting sound and then giggled, leaning forward to kiss William deeply, playfully biting his lip as they broke away from each other.

“Yer Scots is thicker when yer wi me alone,” William said, standing up.

“It’s been almost 200 years since we left Scotland, but I’m still a Scottish lass when it comes down to it,” she said, throwing a pillow at him, “I’m only American because you made me!”

“Ye know, I just like to mess with you, love,” William said, his smile widening as his wife sat up, letting the sheet fall into her lap.

William turned the radio on the bedside table on to check for anything noteworthy amongst the chaos of the world. The thick transatlantic accent of the announcer rang out across the room, “It’s seven o clock December seventh, and it is looking like it will be a sunny day with light cloud coverage. Yesterday a British submarine struck a mine while off the coast of….”

William turned it off. If it were important, it would’ve been first. If a sub accidentally hitting a mine was the only notable thing, they were in good shape.

He turned to Jenny, “Ye wanna to go for a run before breakfast?”

“Mmm…. no,” she groaned, “I’ll keep this bed nice and warm for you, though.”

“Ay love, I’ll see ye in a bit then.”

William got dressed and walked through the house a friend had kindly lent them for their long vacation on the island. He opened the screen door and breathed in the scent that was so different from the American cities he now spent most of his time in. Surprisingly enough, it reminded him of home. The culture was different, and so was the island. But it smelled of the sea and felt like the rugged wild of Scotland that he grew up in. Its people even shared similarities to his. They were a native population downtrodden by a larger power but still deeply rooted in their own culture and heritage.

“America left England just to become what they hated,” he thought, shaking his head as he began his run.

William eventually returned with the smell of eggs, bacon, and sausage hitting him from a mile or so away from their little house. He saw his friend Kalani’s truck in the driveway as he neared. William assumed Kalani came to check how they were settling in since it was his house they were borrowing.

“Aye, William. I stopped by, and your wife told me to stay for breakfast; I hope that’s ok. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing without me here, huh,” a wide grin split his face as Kalani gave him a big wink.

Jenny rolled her eyes and continued at the stove, finishing getting their food onto plates. The whining drone of what sounded like an airplane caught William’s attention in the periphery of his hearing, but that was normal for Hawaii, especially with the military base so close by. Thinking nothing of it, William stepped around the island bar in the middle of the kitchen to sample a bit of the food Jenny was making. That’s when he realized the sound was getting closer, not passing over. Jenny looked up at him, wearing a confused expression of her own, glancing toward the ceiling and then back at him again.

“Wa do ye recon that is?” she asked silently, so Kalani didn’t hear them speak.  

“I don’t…” William was cut off as the sound became so loud, he realized what was happening, “Jenny!” Shouting her name, he threw himself towards her, but it was too late. The house exploded around them. Where there was a serene morning with his loving wife one moment before, chaos erupted, and hell spilled into their kitchen to ruin it.

Blood drenched William’s face from a deep gash that had begun to heal by the time he tried to stand up and wipe the red from his eyes in search of his beloved. “Jenny!” he yelled weakly, coughing at the smoke blanketing their surroundings, the crackling sound of a fire somewhere close.

Blinking furiously as he wiped his brow, he was finally able to see his surroundings. There was a plane cutting the house in half with pieces strewn all about, the cockpit just sitting in the living room like they’d asked for it there. Small fires raged around the house, and black, acrid smoke filled what remained of the structure.

“What the f**k is going on? Where is she?”

His eyes scanning the rubble of the kitchen, he found Kalani. The smile gone from his face; it would never return again. He was under what was left of the kitchen island, the light gone from his eyes. Seeing Kalani dead, William frantically searched through the rubble until he heard a soft whimper coming from just outside. He froze when he saw her. Jenny was impaled by a broken piece of wing straight through her stomach. He could see her body trying to knit the wound back together, but the plane was stopping her from being able to heal. William rushed to her side, but he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He’d seen enough battlefield wounds to know you don’t pull something impaled out of someone without a doctor to stop the bleeding, and even though she could heal herself, he was worried that she might bleed to death before she could.

“Mo nighean donn, hold on. Please, just hold,” William pleaded with Jenny to hold on to life because she didn’t look like she would be able to much longer. Her face was pale, and she was spitting blood each time she tried to breathe.

William gently supported Jenny’s body against his. The wing had gone through her body, forcing her to stay standing with it piercing her from back to the front, coming down into the ground. He snapped off the piece behind and in front of her so he could lift her away from it. Laying her gently on her side, he took off his shirt to roll it and keep her head supported. Looking around desperately, he saw a blanket on the ground and grabbed it, wrapping it carefully around the wound on both sides of her to try and staunch the bleeding.

A sizeable crashing sound from the living room caught William’s attention. A man stepped out of the cockpit of the plane that he’d just ripped open. He smelled wrong. He wasn’t a Lycan, but he smelled similar, and William had never smelled anything like him before. A glow emanated from around him, cloaking him in almost a translucent flame. He had four tails independently moving behind him and a foxlike face with red fur.

“Stupid Americans,” the pilot said, “At least I can do this and walk away from it. The others will die today.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure that you’ll live,” William said, his voice dripping in murderous intent.

The pilot turned quickly and jumped backward quickly when he saw William. His eyes ablaze with violet, William had already turned. His fur was so black it was as if no light escaped it. His presence and rage alone almost made the pilot kneel to beg for his life. He was terrified, and he couldn’t bring his legs to move again.

William looked over at Jenny again, “She’s my wife!” he roared.

The pilot blinked, and in that moment, William crossed the span of the kitchen into the living room, grabbing him by the chest and lifting him with one hand to pin him against the rubble of the plane.

“My wife,” he exclaimed, all sense of restraint gone. His other hand grabbed the back of the pilot’s neck, and letting go with the hand on his chest, he slammed the man’s face into the ground, shattering the hardwood floor. William dragged him from the living room to where Jenny lay, gasping for air, using his face to leave a trail of bloody destroyed hardwood in his wake. When William reached Jenny, the pilot was missing fur from his face as well as teeth from the brutal treatment given on the way. Using the same grip on the man’s neck, William pulled him into a kneeling position in front of his wife, who he was sure would die.

“Beg for her forgiveness for what you’ve done,” he spat venomously, “You’ll get none from me.”

William reached into his moon pendant, seeming to produce a massive sword from nowhere, and plunged it through the man before him, pinning him to the ground through his back, much like his wing had done to Jenny. The man reached out to Jenny as if he were going to ask her to forgive him, but he touched her instead. William growled, but then he realized the flaming translucent aura around the pilot had moved to Jenny. The remaining metal of the wing pushed itself out of her, and she stopped coughing. Her healing seemed to be working fast enough to keep her from bleeding to death, but now she slipped out of consciousness.

“Jenny!” he yelled hoarsely.

It was dark, and William was sitting up in his bed drenched in sweat. He’d yelled so loud it felt like he’d swallowed a dagger. “Ye having that dream again, darlin?” Jenny said, stirring beside him. She sat up and pressed her chest against his back, her arms wrapping as far around him as she could get them. “I’m alive, love. You’re home. It’s over.”