Frankie (Through Time 4)

She smiled and shook her head, “I have asked you not to refer to me as Queen. I am the Dark King’s consort, yes, but I have refused the title. You already know that you may call me Crystal.”

“Indeed, as you say, we are sick with concern and look to you for guidance and strength in this matter.”

“What matter is that?”

“Apparently, Sventer and his clan…”

A shout at his back made Blasfer turn, and drew Crystal’s gaze.

Now was the moment, Pestale thought and felt himself fill with anticipation. Here was the hour he had been waiting for.

He could not help but note that she was exquisite. Every move, every nuance about her was perfection.

She had been evolving, he knew, and besides her hair color, some of her other physical attributes had undergone a change. She seemed taller, even more ethereal and though he had never thought she could be more graceful, she seemed so, and power radiated off her aura.

He had to be careful. What he was about to do would take intricate finesse.

Surprise was the key.

Pestale had planned this within an inch of its undertaking. He was very proud of himself. He had been certain of her, certain that she would be taken in. She would not expect this—how could she? It was daring beyond anything anyone had ever committed.

He had known she would come, not in her evolved form of energy, but as the woman she had always wanted to remain. He had counted on that—on her emotions. He had always known what issues Crystal had. She had always been blinded by her humanity.

Pestale watched her as she stood, serene, radiating goodness and strength and his hatred for her brought bile to his throat.

He wished he could kill her with his own two hands, but what he had planned, was better, so much better. What he had planned would make her suffer beyond his wildest imagination. It was then, he thought as anticipation built in upon itself within his psyche—then that he would bring the Dark King to knees. Thinking of his father in agony over Crystal, over her loss, over what he, Pestale would make appear as her betrayal, nearly made him climax sexually.

Suddenly, but as planned, a fight broke out.

A female Blue Demon screamed—her male relatives surrounded her and stared down at the intrusion of Sventer’s men. Fists were clenched and weapons were raised.

Shouting turned into an all out brawl.

Blasfer put up his hands and bellowed for his enraged citizens to stop, Crystal took a step back, obviously confused by the sudden animosity that had sprung up between the two factions.

Would she use her magic to halt the fight?

Pestale fancied he could hear her thoughts. She must be wondering if she should raise her hand and put an end to the brawl with her magic, or allow the clans to settle their own problem. It never occurred to her to change her form back into energy. She was susceptible and vulnerable in her human form, yet, she remained in human form, as he knew she would.

It was the reason her king had insisted she evolve—to keep her safe and here she was disregarding her king’s wishes.

Sventer had already moved into position. He smiled at Crystal; just as they had planned he would do, reassuring her as he said, “Stand back, my lady, and I will keep the fray from you.”

She did. She took a step back and started to raise her hand saying softly, “I will stop this…”

Before she was able to do a thing, Sventer produced the netting. It

was such a simple matter.

So easily accomplished because she did not expect it, and she gasped as surprise and doubt filled her brilliant Fae eyes.

Pestale felt a laugh begin in his throat as he watched Sventer wrap her in the Gold Wiele, dipped in Dragon’s Breath. His laughter grew as Crystal cried out in pain from the needles pricking her flesh, and as the poison filled her veins, she whispered, “Ah, Pestale, why?”

The question incensed him. “Why?” he shouted at the orb. “Why? You still don’t see? Well I will show you!”

When the Dark King had first brought Crystal to the Dark Realm, Morrigu had tried to kill her with Dragon’s Breath. She didn’t die, and instead developed an intolerance to it, more so than most Fae. He had been waiting for this moment. However, he took no chances. He watched as Sventer injected a needle into her neck. It was filled with iron power and the blood of Zolem.

Pestale saw her collapse and fall unconscious, just before Sventer lifted her and shifted.