Wind and rain battered against the glass panes of the French doors, as lightning streaked through the blackened sky, and thunder made the walls tremble. Inside the spacious room, the warmth of a roaring fire seeped into every pore, fending off the biting chill outside. Its soft illumination danced across a tense outline, seated precariously on the edge of a wing-backed chair. A soft clinking could be heard, as the man twirled in his outstretched hand three silvery crystals. He performed several undulating motions with his fingertips, and as he gazed into their depths he spotted something peculiar. His brow furrowed, creasing his porcelain skin and hooding the piercing mismatched eyes he was so renowned for.
Suddenly, the figure that occupied his attention within the crystal was joined by another figure, this one taller and broader. His breath left him in a great whoosh and the wind outside howled its own response, tearing open the doors of the balcony. The man muttered a curse and rose to a towering height, as he glided towards the doors and latched them shut with a firm hand. He paused and gazed out into the storm, which appeared to be increasing in intensity with each passing moment. He shook his head and scowled in irritation while letting out an oh-so faint snarl,
"That girl will be the death of me."
Yes. This powerful and awe-inspiring man had been brought to his lowest point by nothing but a girl. That's what is so maddening. She practically a child and she has left me befuddled and frustrated in her wake. Oh, but the fates are cruel…Just like she is cruel.
And in this moment, he was thoroughly convinced that she was cruel, because the figure he watched was indeed the girl who had refused him, and indeed she had been joined by a man… but of course, he was not just any man. The Goblin King could have handled that, let it slide under his cool temperament, but this man was her lover. He shared her bed, and her heart, and that he could not stand. He stood there at the window a long moment and something deeply profound changed in him. His heart constricted and the corners of his mouth grew heavy, all the while a screeching echoed through his mind, he tore at his temples as if his life depended on it, and slowly sank to his knees.
It was several hours before the broken king stirred again, but ever so slowly the storm went eerily quiet. In a moment of utter silence, he flashed open his eyes with only one thought echoing through his shattered psyche. She is mine.