Emily laid with droplets of sweat trickling down her forehead. Her skin was pale and she felt exhausted, breathless as the minutes passed. After fifteen miles of driving, the blonde had begun feeling unwell. She'd told Victoria and the older woman promised to stop at the next inn they came across for the night.
Another two miles and the jeep pulled into the parking lot of an old Bed and Breakfast. She took Emily bridal style into the building, a bell chiming as they entered.
"I need a room for the night." She spoke hastily, Emily's eyes now fluttering closed.
The greying woman at the desk stared at her over thick glasses. "Let me see what we have."
The woman's eyes scanned the old computer monitor for a few minutes before clapping once. "Aha!" she searched for a few seconds before handing Victoria a set of keys. "Room 614. How will you be paying?"
"I'll pay in a few minutes. I just need to take her into the room."
The woman gave the two a suspicious stare before nodding.
Victoria took the key with Emily still folded in her arms and headed down the long hallway that led to the room. She propped the door open, rushing over to lay Emily on the double bed. The room was small with outdated furniture scattered about.
The older woman stared at Emily as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She had an idea about what was happening, but would need someone with much more knowledge to confirm her suspicions. Once she'd married Annabelle and the possibility of pregnancy was discussed, the castle's Maesters at the time gave them several warnings to heed—if they would ever need it. He'd said that if Annabelle was to ever have life come from her loins, it would require an obscene amount of energy. The child would feed from the hybrid's strength once they were close enough.
Victoria's suspicion was that Emily being away from Annabelle was causing her to become ill. The fact that she was a human only made her symptoms worse. If the woman's suspicions were right, keeping them apart could result in the blonde's death.
She was at a loss. Caught between a rock and a hard place. The rock being, everything in her being telling her to do whatever she could to make Emily's journey—a journey Victoria never managed to complete—a seamless one. While the hard place was the fact that the blonde would probably do much better in the company of the Hybrid.
She didn't want to betray Emily by reaching out to Annabelle, but the fear of the younger woman not surviving the distance gnawed at Victoria like a rabid animal clawing at the pit of her stomach.
The wolf ran a lukewarm bath, putting Emily into the ceramic tub once it filled. The girl was burning up. She used a wash cloth to sop the blonde's forehead with cold water, whispering that everything would be okay. As her eyes roamed over the pale woman, all she could think of was how much Annabelle probably didn't deserve her. Emily wasn't perfect—the fiery blonde sure did have her ways, but it was nothing compared to what she'd endured these past few months.
But—who was she to determine who did deserve Emily?
She continued to soothe Emily's skin with the cloth, hoping it would help to ease any pain she may be feeling. Victoria leaned over the tub, recalling a time when Annabelle was the sweetest woman she'd ever known. The way she'd express herself, the way she'd made her thoughts and feelings known. The hybrid was an open book
"You know...I don't think I can picture myself with anyone else." Annabelle spoke between kisses. "I'm not sure what will become of us getting married but I'm willing to risk it all for you."
Victoria's heart fluttered in her chest. In her prime, only recently joined the Royal pack; she quickly moved up the ranks. She thought people would think it was simply due to her relationship with the princess but many have seen and acknowledged her true strength.
"I hear you, Princess." She trailed a finger down the woman's toned abdomen, settling them at the waistband of Annabelle's pants.
Victoria smirked at the woman's breathing going shallow as she slipped her hand beneath the waistband to wrap soft, slender fingers around Annabelle's length. She bit down on her own lip, arousal pooling as she'd thought of the immense pleasure the tool she held in the palm of her hand brought her.
She'd recalled Annabelle's nervousness at revealing her extra organ, worried that it would scare her off. On the contrary, it turned out to be one of the things Victoria loved the most about her.
Several months had gone by like that until they were finally wed. They'd lived in complete, oblivious bliss until life forced them to face reality that faithful day. It was the day that witches attacked the castle, the day that was etched in their minds forever. Victoria could admit that she was never the same, she'd lost a lot that day. But strangely, it felt like Annabelle may have lost more.
Eventually the war was won but the casualties were too many to ignore. With her parents gone, and Geoffrey's resentment, Annabelle was mentally on her last leg. Victoria wished there was something she could have done to change the way things happened, wished she could have been more supportive, maybe comforted Annabelle in a way the hybrid always did for her. Perhaps unintentionally, she'd pushed the queen away. Their loss was one Victoria could not recover from.
Eventually the marriage fell apart. Without a formal divorce, it was an unspoken agreement. Victoria understood, in fact, she'd pushed for it. She knew Annabelle needed someone who could carry the royal bloodline for generations and that wasn't her. It couldn't be.
Victoria snapped back to reality as the blonde stirred awake in the tub.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired, very tired." Her voice was raspy and soft.
"I heard about stuff like this," the older woman confessed. "But I didn't believe it, having never experienced it myself."
"What do you mean?" Emily tried to sit up in the tub but it only made her lightheaded.
"Let's call it a spiritual umbilical cord...The fetus forms a bond with the original hybrid and feeds from is strength." She searched the blonde's eyes as she spoke. "You're only a human Emily. You're not strong enough to carry this child on your own. It's been feeding off of Annabelle this entire time." This was the conclusion Victoria arrived at. There was no other explanation. That would also mean Annabelle wasn't doing well either.
"I don't understand...They're connected?"
"If we go any further, I'm not sure either of you would survive." She said solemnly.
Tears sprang from the younger woman's eyes. She wasn't entirely sure why she cried this time, but she was mentally and physically drained. Nothing was working out how she'd planned it. Everything was so much simpler in her mind, but without having all the facts she was now in a dire situation. She was frustrated, yet all she could think about was whether or not Annabelle was also unwell.
There was an ache in her chest as she thought of the fact that she was probably responsible for Annabelle's pain—if there was any. Emily just wanted to be there for her child, for her son. She wanted them to have a safe home, one where she could wander around without constantly looking over her shoulders. One where he could live a normal life without the dangers and pressures of being the Queen's son.
She didn't know the first thing about a mother, but had no doubt that she'd learn. She'd made a silent promise as Victoria continued to bathe her. She would get them to safety—or die trying.
***
Annabelle shivered, pulling the duvet further up her shoulders. A steaming cup of tea sat at her bedside and a Maester sat beside her. He'd informed her of the bond she shared with Emily and her's unborn child. She asked what could be done but there was very little. The fact was, they needed to be together and stay together if they were going to survive.
Severing the tie could result in the loss of Emily's life and it was something Annabelle refused to risk. She'd found herself in a slump. Her body was too heavy to move around. The queen had been bedridden for the last two days, still unsure of Emily's whereabouts.
The hybrid was unsure about what part of the situation made her feel worse; the fact that she was in that frail, weak state or the fact that it was finally confirmed by a specialist that Emily was carrying her child—not that she still needed any confirmation.
How could she have been so naïve? Although it wasn't the best time for it, the woman found herself falling into a depressed state.
The castle was depending on her, she was well aware. The people of the capital relied on her to keep them safe—even the ungrateful humans.
"Do you feel any better?" the older man finally spoke.
His dirty greying, blonde hair landed just above his eyebrows. Edgar wore thick glasses that sat just below the bridge of his nose as he stared after the queen. The man was clothed in a dark cloth that appeared to rest comfortably over his shoulders.
"Should I?" she asked frowning.
"Have some more tea." He whispered, gently pushing the cup towards her.
The dark-haired woman sighed before sitting up in the bed. She clasped her hands around the cup and brought it to her lips. The warm liquid soothed her as she took several long sips.
"That's right," Edgar smiled with a strange twinkle in his eyes as he watched Annabelle drain the cup.
She had to admit, it did make her feel better. Her body felt at ease, almost like she was floating on air. The queen's eyes fluttered shut as she felt relief sweep over her. She opened her eyes and found herself staring death in the face. Annabelle was floating at least two feet above the bed; candles were lit around her as Edgar chanted. His words were muffled, and didn't sound English.
The woman tried to scream but her words were silenced; her limbs felt like they were being held in place.
Flames burned brighter with each phrase the man chanted until finally blew out. The dark-haired woman's body fell to the bed with a thud.
Edgar removed his cloak, tossing it onto the floor. Annabelle's heart was racing. She'd felt almost completely better—like she was back to full strength. Then, she realized that was only possible if the bond was severed.
"What did you do?" her hands were wrapped around the older man's neck in an instant.
"You thought I would let you pine away peacefully in bed?" he snorted. "It's not time yet."
The voice sounded more feminine with each word the man spoke. His blonde hair grew longer by the second until eventually Edgar was no more. The older man was replaced by a blonde woman whose stormy blue eyes seemed extremely familiar.
"Your death will be the end you deserve Annabelle." The woman spoke between clenched teeth.
The queen's claws were out, digging into the skin of the woman's neck. She could no longer feel the bond she once shared with her child; it was completely gone. Before she could crush the witch's windpipe, the woman melted away; a pile of clothes lay in her wake.
After finally coming face to face with the witch responsible for all the terrible things that happened around her, she decided that Victoria was no match for what the woman possibly had in store.
The witch had a plan. She could have killed Annabelle; the queen was basically at her mercy moments ago and the blonde woman chose not to. She chose to let her live, and Annabelle racked her brain as to why the witch would prolong her death.
Almost at her full strength, Annabelle wasted no time leaving the castle. She got into her car, speeding down the long driveway and out the castle gates. The one thing she now knew for sure is that Emily played a much larger role in this whole situation than what she would have thought.
The image of the witch was permanently burned into her mind. Not because she melted away, and not even because of what she said. It was because she looked like an older version of the woman, she'd grown fond of.
The witch strikingly resembled Emily.