6. A Clash

EVANGELINE.

“Evangeline!” Grandmother Philomena hisses, as she stomps my foot, yanking me from my thoughts.

I blink, and stare at her for a second, before I look around the room fearfully, and at the broad back of Zedkiel Vilkas.

No one talks to him, each one lowers their heads to him as he passes by, he doesn't even bother paying respect to his father. He takes a glass of alcohol from a tray as he passes, downing it in one gulp.

“Did you forget your manners, child!” Grandmother mutters, her grip on my arm painfully tight, bringing tears to my eyes as she digs her nails in.

“Y-you’re… it hurts.” I whimper. Her hard gaze is filled with obvious irritation before she lets go. I resist the urge to rub my arm. “I’m sorry. I just…” I give up trying to explain through the stutter I seemed to develop.

I can't express how, or what he makes me feel, it would be an insult to the royal family and everyone nearby would hear it if I told her here.

“No excuses. Are you trying to embarrass us?” She mutters, casting a glance around.

“I'm sorry.” I lower my head to her, but despite my apology, my mind is churning with thoughts.

The man from my nightmares is surely him. Was it the future? A premonition of some sort?

Our clothing in the dreams was strange, I was wearing a heavy ball dress, much like those of the past, and he was wearing a tunic and leather pants… The only difference was that the Prince has short hair, and the man in my nightmares has longer hair.

A cold shiver runs down my spine, and I shudder as I find myself looking at the man who is standing against one of the far walls. No one approaches him, and the tension surrounding him seems to ripple violently around the room.

Some instinct tells me to hide away from his gaze, maybe if I lay low we may never have to see one another again!

-

Dinner was soon served, a lavish eight-course meal, but I have no appetite. I am seated at a table in the smaller dining room where the staff of the ranked werewolves are seated. 

However, I am at a higher table, on a slight dais with five other omegas. They are important, I can see that as all are dressed in extremely fine dresses. I am too preoccupied to wonder who they are though. The sooner this evening ends the better.

“So, who do you belong to? I’m Lucia, by the way.” One of them asks, looking me over.

I turn to her, snapping from my train of thought. 

“Evangeline… Umm, belong to?” I ask.

A few exchange looks, and the one who spoke raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, you must belong to one of the princes if you’re at this ball or sitting at our table.” Lucia replies.

Confusion flits through me. “I came with lady Philomena Welhaven.”

“Ah, a gift, then.” Another woman states, exchanging looks with Lucia.

“A g-gift?” I ask, my stomach flipping sickeningly as realisation strikes. Grandmother Philomena wants me gone… Will she give me to the royal family? But I have no wolf, I can be killed!

These women are the omegas of the royals, and it is obvious they are held in high regard, I know most of the princes will have more than one… but it seems clear only some are favoured.

Reaching for my fork, I push the thoughts aside as best I can. However, I can barely hold it properly, the cool metal tapping the plate.

Maybe they are mistaken, I tell myself. Grandmother Philomena brought me here as her assistant. Yet she didn't treat me as one, instead referring to me as a guest. 

I am trying to calm myself when the most terrifying, deafening growl I have ever heard makes the chandeliers shake. I jump at the sound, my knee hitting the tabletop beneath the fancy tablecloth.

Silence falls instantly, and a wave of fear spreads through the room. Fear so strong I can feel it, like this entity eating me up and feeding on the fear that is oozing from us all, the energy only growing more potent.

“Sinclair!”

My heart thuds when I hear grandmother’s cry. I stand, knocking my chair over. The sound echoing in the room. I am ready to run, when Lucia grabs my arm.

“Don’t go. He’ll kill you.” She whispers, terrified.

“He’ll hurt Sinclair.” I reply, I don't care who she meant, my only thought is to make sure Sinclair is ok.

I run from the hall and through the arch to the brighter-lit dining hall. To my utter horror, I see none other than Prince Zedkiel pinning Sinclair to the wall, his elongated claws digging into his skin. 

Sinclair looks livid as he stares down the Prince, which only seems to anger Zedkiel more, his grip on his throat tightens as Sinclair's face starts to turn purple. Zedkiel’s dark, menacing aura swirls around him and it is so strong, I fought even from this distance to remain standing.

I look around the room, why is no one helping him! Everyone, even the king, is simply watching as they stand there. 

Scanning the room for Alpha Aeron, I feel utter despair when I see him just standing there from his position a few seats down from the king. He is tight-lipped with his eyes full of fear.

“Help him!” I whimper, turning to the nearest man, but he simply ignores me.

“Try that again.” Zedkiel growls, his grip tightening.

“Zedkiel!” Supreme Alpha Ambrose calls, his face pale as he glares at his son's back.

But the Prince doesn't seem to care, from where I stand I can see the cold contemptuous look on his face and when his hand tightens around Sinclair’s throat, I can see he is enjoying this. A chilling smirk crosses his face.

Panic makes me move. “P-please let him go!” I say bravely, running over.

I am terrified, and I feel like I am either going to vomit or pass out. I hear a few gasps, but I am more concerned for Sinclair.

His beautiful eyes turn to me in shock, but it is the gaze of the Prince that terrifies me, and I take a step back, nearly tripping over my own feet and any bravado I have left, drains out of me.

“P-please.” I stutter, clutching my hands in front of me.

“Angel…” Sinclair murmurs, there is something I can’t decipher in his eyes, but I turn my attention to the Prince, although I am unable to look him in the eyes.

He scoffs, throwing Sinclair mercilessly to the ground and my hands instantly reach for Sinclair wanting to help him, only for Zedkiel’s growl to make me jump and stagger back.

Zedkiel bares his teeth at me and I flinch when he turns his attention to me, my heart sinks when he stalks towards me.

Perhaps he’ll kill me… maybe the nightmare just depicts my death at his hand, not where it will take place. But if I am to die, at least it is because I had been of some use to Sinclair…

I close my eyes, my heart thumping in my throat.

The moment he roughly grips my jaw I let out a shaking sob, my eyes flying open in fear. But, where moments earlier there was only white-hot anger it is now mixed with something else.

“Looks like you have a little mouse trying to save you.” He sneers, his grip is painful.

“Zedkiel…” Alpha Ambrose tries again. “Unhand the woman.”

Zedkiel scoffs and looks over his shoulder at his father, who is now standing. “You want to save her… come and get her father.” He challenges tauntingly.

He is mocking the Alpha king… did he fear no one? Yet it is clear they all fear Prince Zedkiel far more because his father drops back into his seat. 

Tears prick my eyes, seeing not even the Alpha of Alphas is willing to take on his own son.

Sinclair gets to his feet, trying to approach us but the moment he is close, faster than I could even see, Zedkiel raises his leg kicking him with such force he goes smashing into the table behind him, the force knocking it into the table behind. A few startled screams fill the hall as everyone moves quickly and steers clear of the tables.

The Prince looks down at me, and for a second I feel as if he is looking me over, but then he pushes me away, I am certain I have imagined it. The rough shove sends me to the floor. He turns and to my horror heads towards Sinclair who is being helped up by Prince Chasyn.

“Zedkiel, stop.” He warns his younger brother. Zedkiel shoves his brother, stalking Sinclair like he is his prey.

“Move, unless you want to share a grave with him, brother.” He warns him menacingly. “Because you know I won’t hesitate to kill you.”