The Ravaged Fairy (10 page)

Thame nodded which received a snort from Flance.

“I think he looks hot in them. Maybe we
can get you a pair.” Bray offered and wink at her beloved Flance.

Instantly, Flance looked over the
material that slung low on his hips. “You want me to wear them.” His grin was
boyish and naughty then he wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

 Thame looked away. His eyes drifted back
to the bed, and as his feet lifted off the ground. His eyes remained locked on
that little thatched cottage where his life changed. Bray had one side and
Flance the other as they flew into the darkening sky. He was finally heading
home. So why did he feel like he was leaving it?

****

Breena walked with her head in the
clouds, her thoughts rampant on who could have possibly thrown that bone. She
stumbled down her rocky driveway as the last rays of the sun decorated a few
clouds on the horizon. The front door to her home was closed but not locked and
she quickly shoved it closed behind her.

There was a chill in the air, and it
seemed to seep deep into her core. She flipped the lock, intended to walk right
up to Thame and kiss him. There was definitely a foolish feeling about her
reaction to Thame’s advances. After all, this might be the start to a beautiful
thing. The moment she walked into the room, she noticed the quiet loneliness
envelope her. He had such a presence and the room was so flat. Where was he?
She stepped from the room and glanced at the bathroom door. It was ajar and
revealed another empty area.

“Gran,” she called loudly and heard the
familiar creek of the stairs. Her face said it all. Something was wrong; sadness
like she’d never known suddenly snapped her composure. She was never one to cry
like a girl over a guy, but she felt her eyes blurring with emotion.

“I’m sorry, Iníon. He left,” she stated
quietly as she continued down the stairs.

Breena’s heart shattered. “What?”

“His friends found him and took him home.”

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were
heavy and her head throbbing. She didn’t remember walking into his room, but
she was here and landed on his bed without a word. Despite everything, this was
Thame’s room. It always would be.

“He said to tell you goodbye.”

Those little pieces of her heart
fractured. Thame was gone. He hadn’t even waited to say goodbye personally. A
tear slipped free and slid down her cheek. Why was her heart aching so? He was
just a guy, but she wanted to crumble to the floor and fade away into the
corner. Had she really come to love him? The thought brought another tear
cascading to her chin.

“Aw, little one. He said goodbye, but
that he’d return.” Gran added.

Breena’s head jerked up, she looked at
Gran’s frown and her eyes welled with tears, this time it was all hope. “He
said that?”

She nodded and moved to sit beside her
only family.

 Gran’s strong but old arm wrapped around
her shoulders and she leaned into her with a shiver. If he said he would return,
she could only hope he was a man of his word. Maybe some time alone would fill the
void that seemed to have sprung inside her. When had he become so damn
important?

****

Thame waded through the thick fog that
seemed to cover Ireland. Bray and Flance still held him upward as they finally
reached home. Those familiar bright domes greeted his eyes then the castle style
buildings, with giant sunflowers and the distant rumble of the waterfall. They
passed the big willow tree and his eyes shifted to the spot where his wings
were ripped from his back. He almost expected to see the blood, some form of
evidence, but it was simply an unmarred patch of grass. As if his life hadn’t
been changed forever in that one spot.

The homecoming was bittersweet. He missed
this place like no other but part of his heart was back on Inis Mór with Breena.

They began the quick descent to the
ground, and he watched as a few figures gathered around. His pulse quickened. There
was no mistaking the King and his new Queen. The sun was down and despite the
shadows lurking, a warmth came over him. The land was suddenly beneath his feet
and he fell to his knees as the Queen rushed toward him. She knelt before him
in her floral printed sundress and wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn’t
quite know what to do with this reception.

“Thame!” Brook hugged him as tight as
Bray had and she swiped at tears. “We missed you!” she whispered the words into
his ear.

He hugged her back, awkwardly; this was
not a common occurrence. King Carrick was by her side and helped them both to
their feet. “Sir.” He bowed his head, shame suddenly clouding his thoughts. He’d
let himself be captured and spent his days in Breena’s care when he should have
been here. “I’m sorry.” Those were the only words he could muster.

 The sounds of the night accompanied
Carrick’s deep voice. “We had feared the worst.”

Was that a tear? The king’s eyes were
glassy. Thame nodded his head and clasped his outstretched hand. He was quickly
pulled into an embrace that defined the word friendship. They had been boyhood
friends, but as time passed, Thame was pulled into his solidarity while Carrick
flourished.

 He was different now. Something had
changed. He had changed. Thame walked on his own into the main palace. Just
thinking the word instantly reminded him of Breena. He stiffened his body,
which caused pain to lance through his tender back.

“Sweet Goddess!” Wick exclaimed as he ran
toward the group. “You scared us to death! And what the hell are you wearing?”

Leave it to Wick to notice the jeans. “I
missed you, too,” Thame muttered dryly.

“Was that a joke?” Wick grinned. “I think
they messed with his head!”

 Wick then began poking his fingers into
his scalp. Laughter echoed through the hall, and Thame smiled as he pushed the
jokester aside.

“We did miss you,” he muttered and the
jovial tone turned serious. His eyes drifted to his back. “I’ll get Brielle and
you’ll have those wings back in no time.”

 The serious tone turned deeper but Thame
couldn’t dissect it. They walked the few feet into a lounge area with glass
walls and ceiling. He sat a bit fatigued on the beige couch, his head falling
to the high backed cushions. From here, he could see the beautiful night cloak
the fairy kingdom.

“We’re going to get Brielle. You just
rest,” Brook spoke softly and rushed from the room.

He would have been content to just sit there
and enjoy the sights. This kingdom was heaven to a fallen angel. It was beauty
with its high buildings and giant sunflowers. He wanted to close his eyes
beside the waterfall and spend a few hours dreaming of Breena. One day he
wanted to bring her here. Thame longed for her to go to his house and make it a
home. His thoughts were turning when the soft flutter of wings sounded. He
opened his eyes to a gorgeous sight and a smile grew upon his lips. “Brielle.” She
was like a sister to all of them, and she held her hands to her face as tears
began to seep free.

“Oh, Thame!”

Her sweet voice punched through his
weariness. The moment she was close enough he wrapped his arms around her and
held tight. No matter how hard he tried to push away from everyone, she never
let him run far. “You’re a beautiful site.”

“I missed you so much.” Her voice cracked
and she pressed her face against his chest. “Look at me crying like a twit. I
do believe we have some healing to do.” She smiled as she pulled away and sat
beside him.

“Yes.” He wanted to shout with joy. His
wings would soon be sprouting from his back. Soon he’d leap into the air and
fly.

“Lay on your stomach.”

He did as instructed, his ankle throbbed
heavily from the walk. Her cold hands pressed against his back then the warmth
began to radiate. That slight heat turned to roast and felt like his tender
skin was burning. He grunted; ground his teeth and slowly the ache turned into
a throb.

“The skin was nearly healed, it’ll take
longer to get your wings grown and able to use.”

He nodded, his eyes drifted closed. Maybe
he would sleep through the process, which sounded like the best course of
action. Warmth once again pierced his composure and that burn returned. He
could feel his skin stretching and the dull throb of his wings as they pushed
through all barriers to grow. Pain became intense as his back stiffened and his
pulse slammed against the thin layer of skin. It should have been worse. He was
there the day they brought back Wick. His wings weren’t cut off but severely
mangled and the memories were unforgettable. His mouth parted and a gasp
sounded before the sweet beauty of darkness swept his vision.

When Thame opened his eyes, he instantly
bit back a groan. His back throbbed;
the small wings could not fully develop
yet. The pain radiated to his head. It was like listening to a screaming
banshee. The moment he turned onto his side, he knew he wasn’t alone. A shadow
moved from the corner where a brown overstuffed chair resided.

He was in his home, in his bedroom and
tilted his head to watch Keyn move in front of him. There was this connection
between them now. They both had their wings violently hacked off, but Keyn
still bore the deep ragged scar down his face. Humans had tortured him when he
was just a child and Thame winced as the quiet fairy knelt before him. He
didn’t speak, just settled there with a frown on his lips. What could one man
say to another when they both were violated so horrifically? “I feel like
killing some trolls.” There were only two things he’d dreamt about, his sweet
Breena and troll blood welling from each slash of his sword.

“The feeling never fades.” His words were
barely a whisper.

Did Keyn feel this way about humans? Was
this dark violence always present? Would it ever retreat? “I met a friend of
yours. She helped save my life.”

He shook his head. “I have no friends.”

“Abigail.”

His gaze shifted, darkened and his good
eye squinted. Keyn’s mouth opened, but he didn’t say a word.

“She wanted to say hello.”

Keyn simply stood and walked from the
room.

Even if he had the strength to go after
Keyn, he wouldn’t have. The man was a solitary creature like himself and Thame
was happy to comply. There was that bittersweet emotion as he heard Brielle’s
familiar footsteps. He wanted his wings, however the pain that came with her
intense healing was debilitating. He grunted and waved her in when she stopped
in the doorway.

“Are you feeling ill?”

“No.” He shifted carefully to his stomach
and felt the blanket pulled down to his waist. His bare back was chilled by the
sudden burst of fresh air. Then her hands were near. The heat intensified; oddly,
this round of healing was less painful. He could still feel his wings enlarging,
but the pain that knocked him into sleep last session was blissfully absent.
Thame couldn’t tell how much time had passed. He waited and remained silent as
his wings returned to nearly perfect size. Brielle however, groaned and landed
with a gasp on the bed. He caught her in his arms and maneuvered her to lie on
his bed.

“I’m well,” she mumbled, pushed against
him and walked unsteadily to the nearest chair. “I think I’ll sleep for a bit.”
Her words slurred as she sat and her eyes slowly shut. “When I wake...” she
swallowed hard. “We’ll finish your lovely...wings.”

She was out cold, and he returned to his
side of the bed. Brielle pushed herself too hard. She always did, but he
couldn’t stop her. He wanted his wings returned with a passion. Maybe he’d be
able to fly to Inis Mór and check on Breena. Thame desperately held on to that
thought as his lids descended.

****

The sounds of swords clashing instantly
brought Thame awake. He jerked upward and pulled out his blade, only his
trusted sword was not under his pillow as it usually was. What in the Goddess’s
name? There was a scream and he jumped to his feet, pushed away the pain as he
ran bare-assed out of his bedroom. More slashes, a male grunted as Thame
charged down the corridor and toward his front door. Had the trolls attacked
again? Was that the queen or Brielle? Where were the others? He burst through
the front door, his dick rising, excited about the fight and rush of
testosterone to come. All thoughts fried as he skidded to a stop.

Queen Brook’s eyes instantly went to his semi
erection, her eyes went wide and she lost all focus on Wick, her sparring
partner. The other fairies stop watching the mock battle and glanced in his
direction.

What was a man to say at this point? He
pressed his lips together, shook his head and turned around. There were a few
whistles and catcalls followed by laughter, all in male tones. He walked back
into his house, shut the door and felt just like Breena. Had she wanted to
laugh at herself when she tripped over every little thing around him? Were his
cheeks red like hers had become?

Thame looked around his big house and really
viewed his home. It was dull, bare. The walls empty of personality. The
furniture was sparse, but not one thing reminded him of what a home should look
like. The palace, Brielle’s home, even Bray and Flance had homes that looked
cozy. His looked staged. There was another whistle and the battle began again.
Swords began to clash as he walked down the hallway and back into his bedroom.
He awoke ready for battle and now all he could do was wallow in loneliness. His
wings fluttered and pain shot through his back. Things were almost back to
normal but did he want it to remain normal? He landed in bed on his stomach and
closed his eyes, but didn’t sleep. He brought up the image of Breena’s smile.
The way her cheeks flushed when he kissed her or she took a tumble into his
arms. Would she make his house a home?