Finally, I get to share the prequel to my future AJPunk series known as the "Over The Love" series.
This story explores the pasts and beginnings of two couples who I have affectionately dubbed, The Four Seasons. Seth Rollins (who i believe represents Spring), Paige (who represents Winter), Dean Ambrose (who represents Autumn), and Summer Rae (lets not kid ourselves on what season she represents) are an essential part of the series so I felt it was important to tell their stories first before beginning AJ and Punk's journey in this supernatural/romantic tale. I don't plan on abadoning my other stories but I had to get this out and will have "This Is War" updated soon.
Before the story begins I would also like to point out that I operate on my own timetable. So while some would enjoy regular updates I think it's important you guys know I have an 9-5 job, a social life, and regular activities outside the fandom I like to indulge in. Not trying to be rude but you must know I'm an active 23 year old girl who needs time in reality as it helps with my writing and provides inspiration for such fan fictions as this.
I thank you all who have read my other stories and hope you will enjoy this one.
Constructive criticism is appreciated :)
"The deep roots never doubt spring will come." – Marty Robin
England, Year Unknown.
The English countryside looked like a blank canvas. A white blanket of snow as far as the eye could see covered the ground and in spite of himself he shivered. He was never a fan of winter. The colder months destroyed the land, the crops, the livelihood of the earth and those who inhabited it. He preferred warmth, green, and an abundance of sunlight.
None of that mattered however. Though he'd retained some habits from his former life he couldn't feel it. The snowflakes fell onto his eyelashes nearly blinding him if not for his impeccable vision. His hair, one side blonde and the other black, was matted wet from the weather. Still…he ushered his feet through the thick white surface. The black boots he wore sloshing with every step. He tugged the edges of his long dark coat closer as he carried himself further from the castle. He was far too focused to turn back intent on following the frolicking figure in front of him.
The black crinoline dress sashayed through the cold ground. He grew concerned with weather soaking through the fabric, covered by nothing but long dark sleeves and a long skirt to keep that elegant skin warm. Raven hair bouncing with every step.
His pace quickened in urgency to catch up with the small moving feet, having regained his moral senses and determination to keep the human from catching a cold. In this time there was no guarantee for survival once small noses and alabaster cheeks grew pink to keep warm. This beauty was no exception.
He caught his breath when she finally stopped, bending down to scoop a handful of snow in her palms. She'd always felt at one with the season when it came. Relishing in the cold coating her fingers before noticing he'd come to stand in front of her. His strong and powerful presence nearly melting the snow she held so carefully.
Had his heart not been unmovable he could've sworn he felt it beat beneath his ribcage when she looked up at him and smiled, her chest heaving with anticipation at his closeness. Ever so slightly he stepped closer and brought his hands under her own. She no longer felt the cold, but heat. He radiated it and she could feel the flakes in her hands melt quickly and pool between her fingers back to the ground below.
"We should go back," he spoke in his gruff voice that was nothing but pure masculinity and she couldn't help the tremble go down her spine and to the edge of her toes.
"It's my birthday," she replied turning her hands to hold his own, dropping the remainants of the snow she once held to the ground.
His quick reflex stole her breath as he pulled them together, their forearms pressed together; the only barrier between their chests. He'd thought of this moment many times over. Kissing her. Like he wanted. Like she needed. All these years and that one desperate desire still flowed through him; like oxygen he lived on that desire alone.
Bending his head, she watched as he kissed her pale fingers. Holding them longingly, closing his eyes to remember. Remember this scent; remember the blood flowing through her that was nothing but deliciously human.
"The greatest present I was ever given was a choice," she said bringing a hand to stroke the scruff that lay upon his cheek, "And this is mine to choose and yours to give. I choose to share in this life with you. For however long that may be…"
He listened as her voice tapered off; almost uncertain this was what she wanted. Finally able to open his eyes they met the deep dark brown he'd never forget. So long as they both shall 'live'.
Norwich England, 1870.
His eyes snapped open as a strike of lightning and a roar of thunder clashed outside. Watching the intricate drops fall from the sky and careen down the window of the small pub. He'd been day dreaming again, or rather, retreating deep into his subconscious and seeing things. Things he wouldn't soon forget. He couldn't if he tried.
Brown eyes. Raven hair. Pale skin. Always the same. A never-ending cycle that repeated over and over again in his chaotic mind.
It never deviated, not since last winter when the dreams began. Always a snowy hillside and white clouds to block the sun. Each ending the same…brown eyes. He couldn't escape it and he surely felt himself going mad at it all.
Choosing to focus on his surroundings rather than this 'dream girl'. He eyed his fellow patrons scattered about the shady pub. Drinking their fill, laughing wholeheartedly, unbeknownst to being true self. A person he didn't even know, savor his questionable habits and his name.
He listened in on conversatiobar that surrounded him. One, a man trying to coax the bar maid to accompany him for a little nightcap at the local inn. Another, speaking of how he killed a Scot for cheating him in a game of bridge. Typical drunken talk for a small pub in England on a wild and stormy Spring night in March.
"There's a rumor…" His ears perked up at a pair of voices across the pub speaking in hush whispers. Not that anyone else would be able to hear them over the loud piano and the chitter chatter amongst its patrons. But he could hear them and he great intrigued at their next words.
"A child. A human child," spoke one of the many town drunks.
"No…" The bartender had replied in disbelief.
Whatever their topic of conversation had started with, he was definitely intrigued.
"Yes! I heard it me'self. They think they got us all fooled. Buncha' blood thirsty monsters is what they are and all they shall ever be."
"How do you know for sure?" The voice, relatively male, and small in stature. He could tell even in the dim light just by his voice as he sat huddled in the corner trying his best to remain unnoticeable. All the while staring at the twosome from across the room as they continued to speak.
"Norfolk sympathizers. Bloody traitors," he spat, "thinking that they'll leave them be should they cooperate. They be wiping us all out one by one before next spring."
"But it's not possible," the bartender's voice spoke in a hushed tone, "They can't procreate I tell you. Even so, to conceive a human child is outrageous at best."
"Well they have," his whisper becoming louder as he leaned closer, "and mark my words this child will be the end of us all."
The drunk downed the last of his drink and scooted his stool back. His ears followed the booming and swerving footsteps to the door as it opened and closed without a single notice from the other patrons except for the creature of the underworld they unexpectedly had amongst them.
He didn't hesitate but stood at a normal human pace, donned his cloak and headed out the door without a single glance from anyone. Inconspicuous as always, he needed to be for what he was about to do and followed the small man outside. Looking left and looking right his nose found the rushing blood of the drunk as he calmed his horse while the rain startled the animal.
A grin spread across his face as he got into character, seemingly portraying a wandering traveler in need of direction. He had played many parts over the years, but this was his favorite, so long as the drunk cooperated things would go smoothly.
"Pardon me good sir," he said as he approached, gaining the horseman's attention, "could I bother you for some information?"
The drunk eyed him through a hazy sideways glance before turning back to his stallion paying the question no mind, "Bugger off."
So this one chose to be difficult, no matter. Inhaling deeply he continued, "I don't believe you heard me. I'm looking for someone and it seems you won't be traveling anywhere in this weather or your current condition."
"I said bugger off!" He shouted drawing a small pistol from his side and firing. Only too late in noticing the traveler had disappeared from sight and his gun gone from his hand in a split second.
"Bloody hell?"
He looked all around. Eyes dialating. Hairs standing straight on every inch of his skin having nothing to do with the stormy weather. Body fidgeting from the scare. He had no idea what he'd done or what would soon to become of him.
That's when the figure had him by the throat with a strong hand and slammed him against the wooden pillar, creaking at the impact nearly giving weigh to the building it supported. He could feel his victim's fears heighten and reveled in it. He lived to steal the breath of those who deserved it and this one surely did.
Maybe it was the booze but he could swear he saw his gun laying crushed to his attacker's side. Torn in two like a twig. When his gaze returned to the one with his hand around his throat he saw the odd marking of his hair. One side a golden hue, the other black as night.
"Don't-don't hurt me," he begged through his clenched throat grasping the forearm of his attacker to try and pull his hand from around his neck, cutting off his vocal chords. But he got no relief for his efforts and began to feel his world go dark.
"I won't. L'est you tell me what I need to know."
Seeing his life flash before his eyes his head nodded as the attacker continued.
"You spoke of a baby? Whose and where?"
Simple questions with deadly answers.
"Y-you," his words were cut off again by the strong hand pressed to his throat.
"I'd think rationally should you choose to lie."
Again he nodded feeling the pressure relieved as he complied.
"You sp-speak of the b-babe born to Rich-Richard and S-Saraya," he answered trembling. He nodded, squeezing again hard enough to watch his victim's eyes nearly bug out of his head.
"Continue."
"Nor-Norwich Castle. Up-up the road. T-they, they are ru-rumored to be sympathizers."
He smiled, "To what?" He needed to hear him say the words. To acknowledge the existence of his deadly kind.
"To, to the under-race. They-they are rumored to sympathize with the under-race. Vampires."
He gasped in air as he was released and fell to his knees against the pillar. Coughing and wheezing, he returned his gaze to the 'man' above him. Looking down on him as nothing more but dirt beneath his boots. But he prayed he could leave peacefully having given his attacker the answers he was seeking.
"Norwich Castle, you say?"
"Y-yes," he responded gaining his barings.
"You've seen them?" He watched as the smaller being nodded. "Pity."
"Wha-What?" He questioned at the word.
"Pity," he said once again, crouching down brushing the drunk's unruly hair to the side, "Pity you'll never know if the rumor was true."
His response was silent as he was hoisted back up his neck turned ever so slightly, nearly snapping, before feeling a puncture of teeth go through his skin. The hunger was a frenzy. An undeniable thirst that would never be quenched properly until the end of time. He'd been living with it since he'd woken up in this state. Feeling it burn his throat everyday.
The body going limp he retracted himself once he'd had his fill and licked the wound as cleanly as possible and let the body drift back down to lean against the pillar. Simulating a drunk who had one to many at the local tavern and chosen to pass out right by the door. He filled his lifeless lungs with air, licking his lips clean of any evidence. Routine. Best to keep routine. Then thinking back to the victim's words. Norwich Castel. Up the road.
He grew intrigued to say the least pondering over it.
Hearing a gentle neigh, he looked toward the horse the drunk had been trying to control. A mystic black stallion, like the night itself that he adored, stood calmly roped to the poll a few feet away. This made him smile wide. Fearless creatures who usually reject the supernatural being he'd been turned into long ago.
Stepping closer he watched and the stallion made no move to run or whine from his mere presence.
It was then that a crack of lightning brought the animal back to his senses and he swayed trying to loosen himself from the ropes hold. Neighing and whining to a frow trying to escape the retched storm around him.
He laughed reaching out to stroke the snoat of the uncalm horse, "Look at you, frightened of a little light show in the sky then a creature of night."
The horse stilled and calmed under the 'human' gaze. A connection had been made between the two dark beings.
He looked around hearing the laughter of more unsuspecting victims inside. He had his fill and needed to move on and looked back to the horse.
"Best to pretend normalcy," he spoke untying the rope. The horse rose each of his hooves feeling the freedom he'd been craving to escape the storm as the one who let him loose gave the rope some slack. He laughed again as the animal stepped closer, nudging his nose against his forehead. Almost as if he was saying thank you.
"What do they call you?" He asked as if the black beauty could understand him. He recieved a small whinny in response.
Laughing again, he patted the animal's side feeling its heart race beneath strong ribs.
"I'm Seth."
"Halt!" The galloping ceased against the rubble ground as the horse stood outside the gate. Wide pillars of stone on either side with a wall that stretched for miles. He looked up seeing the owner of the shout come into view. Nothing more that an intimidating shadow, but he was unmistakably one of his kind.
"Who goes there?" The figure shouted again.
"Rollins. Lord Rollins." He answered back with confidence over the rain.
"Friend or foe?" The guard shouted back.
"Foe, aren't we all?"
That may have come out in a conceited tone which made him wary when the shadow didn't move or convey a response.
He disappeared from view and Seth took in the surroundings of stone walls and hilled countryside. No one could hear a scream from here. His demise would surely be lonely the same for whoever he took down with him. He felt his horse move about in a small circle beneath him, never taking his eyes off the walls as the animal turned. He dubbed him, Tyler Black, a symbolic representation of what he could dream of his old life. Young, free, and curseless.
The gates parted slowly and he gripped the reigns, halting Tyler's movements. A figure standing the middle of the opening.
"Dismount!" The figure shouted.
Seth complied and brought his feet back to the gravel ground below and pulled the reigns under the horse's snout to move alongside him. "Come Tyler, time to make new friends."
The horse followed loyaly next to his new master and friend. Both coming to stop as they stood a few feet from the former shouting guard and threw the rain took in his features.
The 'man' was bald, a metal spike in the middle beneath his bottom lip. He was muscular and looked quick. Seth could take him, of that he was sure, but now wasn't the time for that.
"No need to bust out whatever rubbish you've got in mind," he spoke as if he could read his mind, "I know my own kind when I sense it. No hostility is tolerated in this castle toward our own."
The young man was right. He'd always been able to spot his own kind. The smell, the air literally shifted around them. It came at a price however sometimes. It all depended on who was the hungriest.
"Zak Knight," he spoke, holding out his hand for a shake. The gesture encouraging Seth to step forward. Closer.
"Seth. Seth Rollins." He returned the hand offered.
"Best to keep that Lord Rollins facade mate," he laughed, "Mum and dad will enjoy that."
"Richard and Saraya," he questioned confused of Zak's reference. "They're your mom and dad?"
"King," Zak corrected him, "King Richard and Queen Saraya and yes, my mother and father. Ruler's of all vampires in England, but from the looks and sound of ya, you're hardly and englishman I take it?"
"Well I can fake an accent if they'd prefer?" Seth joked causing Zak to smile wide.
Zak laughed, "They'd see right through it before you could get a word out. What business do you have with my folks?"
"I got word in town of them," he admitted, "haven't seen many of our own since last winter. Some drunk mentioned a child. Though by the looks of you, you aren't the human child of there's they spoke of."
Zak's body stiffened at the words human child and for a moment Seth stood paralyzed ready to defend himself. He obviously said the wrong thing.
"Who speaks of them and a human child?" He asked quickly and deliberately.
"A drunk mentioned it to an old barkeep. I was there and kind of curious."
"Did anyone else mention this?"
Seth shook his head, noting the young one take in a sigh of relief. Zak looked to the ground contemplating his next words.
"Look," he finally spoke, " It's a touchy subject at the moment with my sibling and...well...her humanity."
"So it is true," he confirmed shocked, " they conceived a human child."
"Keep your voice down!" Zak said in a loud whisper holding his hands up to silence him. "Yes, okay. There are many of our kind where that is brand new information that does not bear repeating. My siblings life could be at stake for all we know."
Seth nodded in understanding, "Sorry, I didn't know. What makes you so sure I'm not one of them?"
Zak shrugged, "I have a gift for sensing trouble. You're a wanderer and a young one at that. You wouldn't be much trouble if that was the case."
"Lord Zodiac," a booming voice called from a distance. Their heads turned seeing a near copy-cat of Zak himself approaching. He was bigger, more thick around the middle, but his face was quite similar nonetheless. "Who is this?"
"Calm yourself Roy," Zak replied holding out his hand stop his quick pace, "But a weary traveler of kind wanting to celebrate the birth of our sister."
Roy looked at Seth with skepticism, "He's a little late isn't he and come to think of it...we didn't send any invitations."
Seth noted his sarcasm right off and rolled his eyes, "Well the Norfolk townsmen seem quite aware as if they had a front row seat," he feigned offense placing a hand over his heart, "I'm shocked you'd let them take precedence over your own."
Roy bared his teeth and released a growl. The four unmissable canines protruding much like Seth's on. As he stepped forward, Zak put a hand to his chest.
"Forget it brother," Zak ordered, "I sense he'd wipe the floor with you."
Roy didn't take his eyes off of Seth as he stepped back, never letting his teeth hide.
"Come," Zak spoke again, this time to Seth, "I'll take you to my parents. But I'd keep the wise cracks to yourself. Dad's been in a fowl mood and while you may be strong, Ricky Knight is the second oldest vampire in this castle and he won't hesitate to put a stake through you."
Seth nodded in understanding and moved to follow behind the two bald brothers. Digesting Zak's words, he suddenly halted unbeknownst to the twosome and spoke to himself, "Second oldest?"
He bowed instantly feeling the scrutiny. The large chamber seemed like its walls were closing in on him as he kneeled. The blood red carpet beneath his feet seemed fitting for beings such as those across the room from him.
"Rise," a feminie voice he presumably noted it belonged to Saraya. He stood with quick vampiric movements. Showcasing their similar powers, then maybe the tension would cease. If they saw the movement, they didn't make a mention of it. They just sat their on large wooden thrones, seemingly untoucable.
It was the first time he'd gotten a glimpse of the royal couple. King Richard looked aged, larged, and unshaven. Very unlike the young vampires he'd encountered in his time but he radiated elder power so much Seth would have cowered had he been new to this life. Queen Saraya looked unlike any femaile vampire he'd ever seen. Midnight black hair with pink streaks he found very odd. She to looked aged like her husband, but her eyes, they were full of velocity and a fierce nature.
Their golden crowns glowed in the candlelight surrounding the room, small jewels of red and blue gleeming.
"Who are you? What do you want?" The king spoke harshly causing Seth to gulp. He feared no other being, human or vampire, for a long time.
"To celebrate in the birth of your child King Richard and may I add, God save you."
"God hasn't played a role since I was sired boy. Let's not pretend here."
Seth nodded, "I didn't mean to offend. I heard the tale of a baby being born my King from patrons in town. They seemed...disturbed."
Richard's laughter was thunderous and almost evil, "As they should be. Bloody mortals. They make daily threats you know. We've ruled the vampires in Norwich and London before that. Banished to this dump out of fear."
Seth remained silent at his words. Richard obviously held a large amount of resentment toward the human populace in the surrounding area.
"I'll ask you again, who are you? You are definitely not a fellow Englishman."
"No, sire. American."
"An American," Richard spat, "Likely one would hear of our whereabouts and travel all this way."
"Richard," Saraya shushed before returning her gaze to Seth, "From where in America do you hail?"
"I don't know, your highness," he admitted, "I've known nothing of my former life since I awoke to this one in London."
"Truly? Surely your sire would've told you of your life before."
"Yes ma'am," he nodded, "If I knew who he or she was I'm sure I'd be able to tell you. Alas, I only know that I awoke in a small alley in London and that my name is Seth Rollins."
"You don't know your sire," Richard's tone sounded accusatory, "You come to Norwich off rumors and a horse no less. You really are a lost boy aren't you?"
Seth shuddered under his words. He didn't like to think about it. Whatever his life may have been before wasn't his life now and he refused to look back.
"I prefer to see myself as found your majesty," he replied, "If my prior life was meant to be known I would know it. And since I don't, I don't consider myself lost. This was to be my fate from the beginning."
The occupants of the chamber could've heard a pin drop as silence filled the room. A war of words between Richard and Seth would have brought down the walls around them. Both men so strong willed. Saraya decided at that moment she would stow that information away for another day and spoke to relieve the tension.
"You state you wanted to celebrate the princess. Well step forward and do so then but be warned, I'll have your head on a stake if you can't control yourself."
He failed to notice the small cradle in the middle of the chamber at first. Yards from their majesties, it seemed odd to him they'd keep their daughter at a distance. Then he remembered she was human and wondered if temptation was getting to them. Or maybe it was fear. He eyed the king for a moment as he approached, his tempered gaze never wavering from Seth's movements toward his child.
As he approached, he began to feel a small amount a pressure growing where his heart should be. His body grew ridged the closer he got, barely having to the strength to keep from shrinking to his knees as he neared the cradles edge.
Bundled up in a small black satin blanket he took in the pale skin of the child, raven black hair somehow reaching her shoulders at only a few months old. He could hear her pulse, feel the blood rushing threw her veins, and was close to salivating all over her.
She tossed and turned, he almost felt he could see inside her head and see the small baby's nightmares. She released a small cry and stretched out her tiny arms seeking comfort. Possibly from her parents who remained seated. Whatever rescue she was hoping for from the nightmare wasn't coming. So she opened her eyes and Seth nearly lost it.
He saw the deep brown, and barely caught the breath he'd lost long ago. His mind instantly brought back to that snowy hillside from his dreams.
Seth gripped the edge of the small cradle tightly. Mustering all his willpower to keep the strength he knew would crack it into nothing but wooden splinters across the floor, the small baby with it.
What was happening to him? He'd never felt such a surge of power. It threatened to encase his unbeatable heart and drag him under.
"My king," a small voice spoke. Taking his eyes off the raven-haired babe at the sound, he found his gaze had landed on a small 'woman'. Instinct told him that was a false thought. She appeared petite, golden skin, and chocolate hair. She moved with grace down the small number of steps, with her white robes swaying to and fro. She came alongside the royal couple, kneeling at the king's side like some servant gripping the armrest of his thrown tightly.
"Lady April," Richard spoke with a confused tone at the sight of her. King Richard hadn't taken his eyes off him or his daughter the minute he'd stepped foot in the sacred castle. Whoever this maiden was...she must be worth a great deal of importance to draw the king's gaze.
"I felt something," she said holding a hand to her head before her eyes drifted toward the cradle. They looked haunted, dazed, and very tired. Slowly however they connected with his own and they were making him wary and very self-conscious. She stood swiftly and with vampiric grace, tilting her head at the newcomer hovering over the cradle of the human baby.
"Lord Rollins, April," Saraya relented, trying to break the tension, "He's come to celebrate in the coronation."
Seth didn't move, never relinquishing his hold on the cradle. He could feel her power as well, she was older then him, wiser even. So this was the one Zak had mentioned at the gate. Not one to miss an opportunity to meet more of his kind he would have asked her a thousand questions the moment her age in this life became clear. But he couldn't tear himself away from the baby. Why?
He noticed the child seemed bigger than a typical newborn. Some how her hand found his on the side of the cradle as she turned and looked at him. He felt an instant connection, she showed him her true eyes with her movements. It was March, and by her size she must've been almost four months old.
If not for his vampire abilities, April's quick speed to the opposite side of the cradle would have frightened him.
She gripped the edge delicately and looked deep into his brown orbs. Searching, probing, and analyzing; he did his best to not let his own gaze waver under hers. Her sharp intake of breath did startle him however as his pupils widened.
"A strong pull," she spoke softly tilting her head to gage his reaction before lowering her eyes to the princess. Taking note of her curiosity at the male above her; April couldn't help the small smile as she tried to roll her tiny body more toward him.
"You don't know what brought you here," she explained still not looking at Seth, "but you couldn't shake the invisible pull; like you would stop breathing unless you followed."
"What's happening to me?" He begged the question finally forcing her gaze to meet his.
The poor 'man' was confused; tortured. She expected this. Right now he felt more mortal than he probably ever had since being sired into this way of life.
"Nothing you can't handle, Lord Rollins." She said with care, "It's simply fate working its will."
"April, I'm afraid we have more pressing matters to attend to than...whatever this is."
"The child's eighteenth birthday sire," April explained, "Let her have the choice we could only imagine having. She will be old enough to make a mature decision by then."
"What brought this on?" Richard questioned her at the sudden and odd response.
"Events that were put in motion long before either of us were turned my King," she spoke, "Thus my suggestion to wait for her maturity to pull through before you decide she be turned."
King Richard sneered at Seth before his gaze returned to the maiden, "It is not her maturity level I am worried about, but her survival. Being human is too great a risk for my daughter."
The loud bang of Queen Saraya's fist hitting the armrest of her chair echoed throughout the chamber. As the wood creaked and broke apart she stood looking at her husband with anger, "And turning her this young isn't? It's one thing for us to have the ability to procreate and conceive a human child Richard. It's another to risk turning her as a baby. Something could go terribly wrong and I certainly will not risk our daughter's life because you fear for her safety if she were mortal."
"And who will protect her as she grows," Richard argued standing to face his wife, "there are enough of our kind out there who would seek her out, seek to destroy her, sire her."
Saraya trembled; a cry escaping past her lips at the king's words. Relentlessly he continued, "It is not ill-will or resentment I hold for my flesh, my blood. It is but fear; fear that she may never live longer than she is now and it is not only our kind we have to worry about."
"The humans wouldn't dare," April interjected turning and taking a few steps toward them, "their nature would be to steer clear. She may be mortal flesh and bone, but her conception was made between the two of you. My king. My Queen. Rulers of the vampires of all Britain. It would be within their nature to steer clear and reject her. Like the sun."
Richard scoffed, running a hand over his face before facing her, "And what if you're wrong? What if they don't? What if they sought her destruction like they seek ours?"
"They wouldn't get near," Saraya answered, "She would be protected."
"Really, by whom my wife?"
"By him."
The room paused as Seth and their majesties looked to April's outstretched arm and index finger pointing behind her, indicating the young Lord Rollins. A relative stranger to them all.
"Me?" He questioned.
"Yes," she spoke proudly, "You will protect the princess. It is your destiny."
"My destiny," his brow furrowed at her words. His face contorted into a seemingly confused look. "You know nothing of my destiny."
"But I know hers," she said turning back to Richard and Saraya who came closer stepping to the side of the cradle April was on with vampire speed. Richard baring his teeth, sharp canines protruding.
"He is not her fate," Richard growled as Saraya tried in vain to hold him back. "Richard, stop," his wife cried, "please. Not in front of our daughter."
"Lord Rollins and I will look after her until her eighteenth birthday," she explained, "Then she will choose."
"April! What are you saying?" Richard bellowed throughout the hall. "You want us to trust our daughter in the hands of someone we barely know."
"Listen," she nodded, "Listen to her heartbeat my Lord. In sync, like they are one."
His majesty's brows furrowed at her command.
"I hear it," Saraya said suddenly, a small tear leaving her eye, Richard I hear it!"
He could feel her claws in his forearm. At that moment, he complied and silenced all the surrounding noises around him.
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
He heard his innocent daughter's strongest muscle echo and closed his eyes. The sound invoking strong emotion from her stubborn father. Then another sound. Visions flashing through his eyes. Visions of snow. Of Seth. Of April. And that of his youngest frolicking through fields of white ground. Of their eyes.
"Oh," he moaned seeing his child. Older. Happy.
"I cannot bare this," he continued and turned to leave dashing out of the hall in a flash. Saraya calling after him as she followed.
With just he and the elder vampire handmaiden in the room he was at a loss before returning his gaze to the cradle from her parents leaving.
"What's her name?" He asked quietly, leaning down and stroking the child's raven hair, feeling the same texture he was sure he'd felt in his dreams. He'd finally have a name to the face. If this child was indeed who he suspected she was he needed to know.
"Paige." April said. "Princess Paige, and she may very well be who you believe her to be Seth."
The sun had finally appeared, coming through its hiding place behind dark clouds. This was his sanctuary. Sunlight and green grass as far as his eyes could see. Taking in the beauty of a new Spring day a small cry escaped from his side. His gaze left the outer world that lay outside the window.
The enchanting raven-haired princess on his hip, begging for his attention.
He held her with care as he hoisted her up higher so she could see the world beyond the castle she'd been trapped in for only a short while. Not missing the small gleam from the silver ring that laid on his right ring finger.
She pulled a piece of his blonde locks in her tiny fist. Curious as she began to pick up the difference in his hair.
"Spring is here my princess," he spoke sweetly, earning a smile from her.
"Se-Se," she said with a small giggle patting his face gently.
He swore if his heart could beat it would leap from his chest at that action. Everything she did thus far in their short time together had ensnared him.
She was his. He was hers.
"Paige," he said smiling. "My princess."
April watched from the shadows down the hall as Winter bonded with her Spring counterpart. Her pearly whites gleaming at the sight.
"My beautiful Princess, Paige."