Vincent Lyson Point of View

The air is thick with fog as my men spread out around me. Tashkent's location was able to be tracked, but no sign of him. Our men move through the trees, simple tracker abilities shifting through the air in hopes to find the older male, but the silence through the forest tells me enough. They are either dead or failed to find him.

I dip around another tree my larger muscle proving more difficult to move quietly, or even smoothly. While in this form I am stronger, and have better senses, it proves a hindrance with movement.

"I see you are still shit at tracking, Vince." The familiar voice calls out through the fog stopping me in my tracks.

Ignoring his taunt, I keep myself quiet. Especially since my speech is absolute garbage in this form. No need for banter, only a need to rip his head from his body and feast on his organs.

"So quiet, must be the primitive way of doing things coming out. Such a shame! I hoped for a fair fight."

I hear the shuffle of leaves, a black mass moving through the field in front of me. Ducking low I start to squat walk in his direction, gun raised.

"It has been a while since you have been on the field, huh king. Some time since you ate well. Does your mate know about your little feeding habits? What happens when you go without for so long?"

Silence.

"I'll take that as a no. What would she think when she finds out about this? That you crave battle purely for the nice dinner. It's almost sad to think about the man that rules us these days. Such a cannibal."

While his words are simply to catch me off guard, lower my walls, they hold some truth. My form is hard to hold and keeping it for so long has only been possible by feeding the demon within me, like the old ways.

Eat his heart, we save planet. Eat his throat, we save planet.

The old thoughts channel through me when the stars exploded our worlds were much different. The rarity of being able to go primal increasing as people realized the cost outweighed the gain. Now, the truth behind the ability is hidden, only the people that still can having that secret stored away.

"I can't wait to break your queen to do out bidding. Jackson is going for her now, plans to take her like the bitch she in in front of that meek infirmary you have organized. Such a shame she didn't take her chance to leave when she had it. To prideful."

Eat his head, we save mate. Eat his eyes, we save mate.

The primitive urges start to take over more than they have before, my mind meddling with my older self our desires to feast taking over any logical thought. My movements become less controlled, Tashkent's plan starting to work.

A belly growl leaves me, his body moving in front of me with a gun pointed at my head, "You really just another fucking animal, aren't you? Such a shame, I was hoping for a challenge."

He pulls the trigger, my body kicking right to avoid the bullet. Another fires, my body drops it barely skimming over my hair.

Eat. Eat. Eat.

Another bullet, shift left. Another, right. Another- throat. His gun shakes in his hand, mine being thrown to the ground long ago. Another pop and crack as my body gets larger finally giving into the darkest part of my mind.

"You act like she would still love you if she saw this." Spit runs down my face. My fingers tightening over his throat.

"Some. Challenge." I groan out, a broken voice cracking between us as his throat bends.

He drops his gun grabbing at my hands tugging as hard as he can. Legs kick, useless movements when his steel toes dig into me. Nothing I can't take.

Tashkent coughs, body beginning to shake, I tighten my hold skin breaking over my hand with blood running down my arm. He shakes once again dropping his arms to move to a stillness. Letting his weak body drop I lean over him my demon's demanding payment for their power.

"If I die, so will you." His voice is a gurgle of blood pooling at his chin. The next moment a blade seated deep in my belly and drug up to my ribs, blood of my own now joining the field, "Fucking die."

Crystal Lyson Point of View

"We need to get to cover, the battle is at our front door!" A nurse screams out, running around the room to gather her things, me attending to another man.

Florence growls grabbing the woman by the back of her shirt, "You are a coward to leave with the men fighting for your life need you. The Queen made the example to stand her ground and we should follow."

The woman shakes her head crying, running from the run, Florence spitting on the floor after her, "Let her name be damned."

No pity for the weak I assume as Florence screams at the other two women to pick up pace, Gale stepping farther into the hallway to aim his gun. Other men join his back falling to their knees to hold position.

The man I was helping steps away grabbing his gun to take position as well, my heart swelling in happiness to see the protective stance they all take over their fallen brothers. For once I don't hate their customs.

"Crystal! Move!" Florence screams grabbing my shoulders yanking me out of the way of the tossed grate, Jackson himself crawling into the room dropping to the floor. Gale and the men turn back to the ward, slowly moving in, but with Jackson's gun pressed against my temple, everyone moves as if there is glass under their feet.

"Hello, Crystal. Heard you were here and just wanted to check in, good friend said you have something I want."

The cold barrel is shoved deeper into my head, my body holding still as Florence backs away from me, Jackson directing her to step back. Gale and the other men keep their guns held high attempting to get a clean shot, but the fear on their faces tells me they won't be pulling that trigger any time soon.

"And what is it you want." I whisper showing him my hands, only the needle I was using earlier between my fingers.

"Is it really that hard to guess? Women. They really need to learn a thing or two before they attempt a thing or two am I right?" He laughs, pressing his bottom lip out, "Vincent will handle Tashkent, and then I can take you over that cot. Give me the power he holds, and then murder your husband. Keep you around under lock and key, and since I am not the original holder of the immortality blood line, let my son do the same. Isn't that exciting?"

"I would call it predictable. Do you hold no loyalty?" Think Crys, think.

"And? Do you really think I care what a useless woman has to say? You are nothing more than a glorified sex doll in my eyes." He leans forward grabbing my hand, tugging me closer to him. I press the needle between my fingers hiding it between my middle and pointer. My back is pressed against him, arms hanging to my side, gun still biting into me. His other hand lays lightly on my shoulder, not attempting to keep me in place. He underestimates me.

My tattoo warms, my eyes rolling back lightly as a vision takes over me. Really right now?

~

"Now you are going to bend over, got it? No one is here to save you." Jackson moves me over, an opening becoming obvious as he moves me. I turn flicking the needle between my finger shoving it deep into his jugular.

His body shakes, mouth filling with sticky blood as I twist the small needle hitting the sweat spot. The gun drops, body following suit beneath me.

~

Isn't that convenient. And to think I thought this ability was useless. He shoves me over, pressing his palm against my back just as he did in my vision, the cue words slipping from his lips.

Flicking the needle again, I turn. It plays out like a script, the blood pouring down his chin and body slowly dropping to the floor at my feet. The gun slides across the room, Florence kicking it to Gale who tucks it into his pocket.

Jackson smiles, red teeth greeting me, "So poetic to be killed by a woman."

He slumps over, a stillness that only can be achieved by death taking over his form. The men move forward dragging his body out, a thin blood trail following him.

No time to process, no time to mourn, Florence grabs me again pushing me to another man that needs me. I let my body move to autopilot until a slicing pain takes over my gut sending me into a screeching pain. Florence moves to me, cradling me to her chest, "The King has been injured I need all men that can walk out on that field now."

She lowers her head to me, looking me over, my screams taking over me, "You better stay strong, this is a cake walk compared to moving planets and killing a man." Her words seem comforting, but her set jaw tells me differently, almost like she will resurrect me just to kill me again when I die.

Gale drops to the ground moving me onto the bed, my heart seizing again, wails breaking through the room. Vincent what is going on.

A booming voice moves through the room, Jeff screaming at people to move out of his way carrying my very bloodied mate across the room. The man in the cot next to me removes himself crawling to another so Jeff can drop him next to me. The frantic guard turns to Florence, "Tashkent is dead, but raked a blade through his abdomen. His form couldn't hold him long and he has lost enough blood to fill a river."

She runs to him, my pain becoming focused groans so I can watch here work, her hands move quickly removing the armor from him, "He must have been able to get under his chest piece. When the King transforms, his armor doesn't, probably had access when Vincent got close. He won't die, but he will be in a coma. His body can't take the trauma. The queen would be dead already if he wasn't healing."

Jeff falls to his knees, grabbing at Vincent's hand, kissing each knuckle, "Thank the stars."

Normally Jeff is stoic, lack of emotion being his middle name, but watching him cry over his beloved king reminded me of thee power that Vincent holds and has earned in his people's eyes. These men don't fight for an empty crown.

Florence turns to me her chin marked with blood from wiping her hair out of the way, "Per old law you now hold the crown, commander of the forces, what do you wish for us to do."

Jeff nods, moving to take a knee in front of me, everyone in the ward moving to a kneel as well, each one showing their bare palms to the sky, "We will do as you as, our Queen." Jeff speaks, the rest nodding in agreement.

I hold my stomach, trying not to pass out from the amount of pain and mental games I am playing on myself. This can't be real. I can't lead. Jeff looks up from his bow, matching my eyes, "You are meant to be queen, Vincent wouldn't have been mated to someone uncapable. We need you to lead us in his honor."

I bite my lip, sitting up fully and then moving to a standing position, all of them move to standing as well, "We need to avenge the king, kill everyone one of those bastards and then come back home. I expect each one of you and your families at the victory bonfire of their fucking corpses."

"Yes! Queen!"

All of the men leave the room, their orders simple, Jeff giving me a smile before running out as well. Florence gives me a smirk, "I knew you had it in you. Now come on, we have more work ahead of us!"

We work for hours on end, fingers cracking from all the knots and pokes of needles. I have given up on saving my hands, blood dried in all the cracks. It's a reminder of what these men have sacrificed for my safety, for everyone's safety.

No one knows how Tashkent got an army, or why these people support him. All we know is that if they support barbaric traditions and desire to bring war to castle grounds then that is what will happen.

The city has long been evacuated, everyone moving to a neighboring planet in war ships that had been designated to citizens. Klataz welcomed the people, while others were more hesitant. It took an order from me for their borders to let them through, Florence keeping me updated as things change for the people. Now all that is left is the stragglers.

Vincent stays unconscious, his body fighting to stay alive. No sign of him waking up has shown, and a few touches remind me of the bond between us. He's too stubborn of a man to die. At least not before he meets his first born.

Florence confirmed the baby is completely healthy, my pain only being phantoms pains to reflect Vincent's. My father, while I already had the news, was confirmed dead by an ally soldier. An enemy on earth killing him in his sleep to keep me emotional. His body is currently being prepared for transport to Hedium, if only for a meaningful funeral.

Just keep working. Just keep stitching. You feel no pain. You feel no pain.

"Queen. We just had some breaking news. Jeff demands I deliver it to you." A nurse, Shaina, reaches out holding the telka.

I grab it from her hand pressing it to my ear, my heart sinking at the man's tears coming from the phone, "Chase-Chase is dead. Shot. He's dead."

The war ended soon after. Our side finally having more people on the field taking them out one by one. With the head guard being killed, men finally pulled together. Stella's body found at the top of the deceased women pile, Chase's mother crying over the loss of her grandchild and son.

The advisors that served under Vincent initially took everything I said as suggestion, and it only took violent threats from Jeff before they took my word as law. Mary became my person attendant, helping me handle all of the new work thrown on my shoulders while my heart ached for my personal losses.

Mary and I grieved together, Jeff allowing her and I to share a room for a night so we could cry ourselves to sleep. It was therapeutic.

Vincent's state hasn't changed, his body now moved to the long term stay units only a heart monitor reminding everyone he is alive.

With him still in his coma state, that left me to go to the funeral alone. Mary and Jeff stood behind me both placing a hand on my shoulder to encourage me as my father's lifeless body laid before me, an undeserving victim in this screwed up world.

"He was a good man, my Queen." Jeff whispers as the same officiant who married us stands on the stage giving a scripted speech over his death, the royal advisors and their mates sitting behind me trying to share their sympathy.

"He was an amazing father. The only man who ever understood me."

Mary leans forward kissing my cheek, "He is always with you. Our people believe we carry the spirits of our family in our soul, all this means is he is now forever a part of you and no longer a wandering piece."

No longer a wandering piece. When will that be me? My body is now a floating vessel moving from one end to the other from day in and day out. The only man that could bring me to center lays below me ice cold, and the man that earned my love lays silently sleeping.