Generational hatred spreads like wildfire. Her eyes stare longingly into his from across the bridge—the only barrier between them. He speaks unsaid words into the deathly silence of war. The air was bitter between them. The looming threat of raging hunger for victory shadowed their love. Enough to diminish their once admiration to bits and pieces of hesitant wrath. Darcella knew it was doomed since the start. But, she couldn’t resist from staring.

Tears of heartache dripped down her cheeks, collecting at her chin but she didn’t dare blink them away. She welcomed the fresh breeze that dried her sadness to her pale flesh.

She was to hate him. To want to shed his blood. To want to gain vengeance for all he did to her kingdom.

But, she could not escape the remnants of his hands on hers. He could not escape the taste of her lips on his. She could not escape his bittersweet words of nothingness.

A large, dark cloud filled with rain droplets ready to pour shadowed over them like their greatest enemy. It covered the tips of his kingdom. She didn’t want to pull her eyes away so much as she had to when the cloud covered his miniscule body in the distance.

She held herself together, taking a steadying breath. I do not love him, she said to herself. He killed my people, she tries to convince her head but even she knew, it was of no use.

Love is a strong feeling, one that she didn’t quite welcome but, love isn’t necessarily a choice, is it? For her, it wasn’t.

But, to him, it was. He chose to love her, every flaw and error. He chose her. But, his family chose vengeance.

Their paths were not aligned, they were never to be crossed. One was to die at the hands of the other, at the hands of their love.