The Ravaged Fairy (4 page)

“I’ve seen your kind,” she whispered and
tugged the quilt over his calves until only his bandage ankle was visible.

If she knew what he was and despised his
kind so much, why was she helping him? Her actions made no sense. The object of
his lust returned. Her gaze avoided his as she placed the pot down. Steam
swirled from the black container and he closed his eyes as he heard a splash.
The burning liquid splattered on his swollen joint, the scent of lavender and
something more subtle he couldn’t identify wafted to his nose.

“It’s not broken. When it cools, dip it
back in and place it back on the swollen part.”

Breena nodded quickly, her gaze still
directed anywhere but him. The old woman stood with a creek of old bones and
shuffled from the room. She mumbled something too low for him to understand and
then a cool breeze swept over his frame. He hid the shudder, shifted to look around;
he was once again alone with the gray-eyed beauty. “My name is Thame.” She
hadn’t asked, but the urge to tell was overwhelming. He wanted to hear it on
her lips.

Breena had never felt so awkward in her
life. She nodded and knelt by the foot of the bed. Her body hummed with sexual
awareness, her nipples tingled and moisture gathered in her core. Sure, she was
attracted, but it was so much better when he was unconscious. Right now she fidgeted
with her shirt seam, bopped her leg up and down while placing the wad of cloth
into the hot water. It landed with a plop, splattered her legs and she bit her
lip as she placed the wet cloth on his ankle.

She glanced up, her eyes going wide as he
was still staring at her. Did she have something on her face? Was there
breakfast spilt on her shirt? There was a quick glance downward as her nerves
frittered. She didn’t see anything but he kept staring and there was no smile
whatsoever. Maybe he expected a conversation. It took all of four seconds
before she mentally screamed. What the hell were they going to talk about? She
was a plain girl who lived her whole life in this little town with a
superstitious Gran. God, this was pathetic.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two...” she mumbled instantly while
staring at his ankle. Not that his swollen joint fascinated her but because she
had no desire to make an ass out of herself, again.

“Why did you save me?”

Her mouth opened but no excuse fumbled
out. “I...I just saw you on the road and couldn’t leave you there.” She
shrugged her shoulders. “What happened to your back?” Breena pulled the cloth
from his ankle, dunked it in the water and placed it back. She glanced up at
him, and he seemed to be contemplating an answer which Gran said usually meant a
man was going to lie. “You don’t have to tell me. Once you’re healed, you can
go on your way.”

“Thank you,” he finally spoke, “for
helping me and caring. I have not met a human who would be so kind to a
stranger.”

A human? What the hell was that about?
Breena hid her cringe. It would be her luck to find some hot, naked guy who
claimed he was taken by space aliens. “Do you live on the main land?” The
question blurted from her lips. Okay, so she wanted to know, maybe she could
visit. Yeah right, Gran would spoon out her eyes.

“Yes.” He laid his head back on the
pillow. “I still have no idea how I got here.”

His lips pressed together. That seemed to
bother him immensely. “Maybe you took a ferry or plane or you swam...” she
added the last one with a grin. There was a slight snort from him. Was that a
laugh? She dropped the cloth in the cooling liquid and stood.

“Breena.”

“Yes?” God, the way he said her name made
her nerves dissolve into a pile of longing.

“I’m glad it was you who saved me,” Thame
whispered the words and his eyelids slid shut.

Chapter Four

I’m glad it was you who
saved me
.

Breena was still smiling as she plucked potatoes
from the field beside their house. She plopped them into a small sack and kept
repeating those words in her head. He was so damn sexy she couldn’t function
normally around him.

The moment the words seeped into her
overheated brain he fell back to sleep and she tripped on the way out of his
room. She landed on her butt and cursed. Gran came from the hot stove to see
her sitting on the floor. Her butt hurt from the landing even as laughter
echoed through the kitchen. She bent and picked a few more. This field was one
of many that Breena tended to so Gran could sell them at the market. It was
their livelihood along with Gran’s knitting genius. The woman could sell a cat
a coat in the peak of summer.

I’m glad it was you who
saved me
.
Her smile returned full force, white teeth visible and her eyes lifting to the
cloudless sky. She wanted to walk right up to his partially covered body, lift
away that flimsy cloth and take a long look at his good bits. That was entirely
too bold for her. There was a soft sigh from her lips as she glanced back at
the house. That took courage and will power; she had insignificant traces of
either in her entire being.

“Iníon!”

Breena lifted a brow. How did she always
know when she was thinking dirty?

“I have food for him...”

Oh, her cheeks flared pink as she hefted
the sack and brought it into the house. She used her open doors to deposit it
into the kitchen. Then Returned to close and lock them and by then her flush
dissipated. The house had a strong, delicious smell of roasting tomatoes and
savory garlic with extra potatoes, just the way she liked it.

“Go feed him first, we’ll see if it kills
him then try it ourselves.” Gran grinned as she spoke.

Breena just shook her head and grabbed a
small, steaming bowl off the counter. “Thame, his name is Thame.” It was the
first time she spoke it aloud, and it slipped from her tongue like a silky drug.

She rushed out of Gran’s view before
taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and watching her footing closely
with each step. There was no need to add stew to the ‘food in her hair while
trying to look sexy’ list. His door was ajar and she used her hip to press it
open so she could squeeze in.

The sun was setting. Colors decorated the
clear sky. With the curtains open, there was a shadowed, romantic feel to the
room. The man that currently ruled her dreams was sitting up in bed with a wince
that made her sex drive plummet.

“You shouldn’t be sitting up already.”
That had to hurt. His eyes lifted, locked with hers and she broke the rule. She
stopped watching her feet, forgot about the hot stew and stumbled. Her knee hit
the bed, the stew flew upward and she inwardly cringed as she tried to catch
her balance. That resulted in her landed with a yelp on the bed and the stew
rained down on them in chunky blobs. She ignored the slight pain with the hot
food on her skin and didn’t dare look at him.

Breena wanted to disappear right now. Her
eyes were closed and she prayed to God to just make her vanish from the face of
the earth. How could she be this clumsy every time she came near him? After
several seconds of silence she cracked one eye open, and began her apologies.
Of course, he had no tomato on him. It was primarily in her hair, smudge on her
back and collecting in the blanket around his waist.

“You have bad balance.” he muttered then
snorted, “...and very bad aim.”

She nodded, scrunched her lips in a frown
and added stew to that previous list.

“...but even covered in food you look
beautiful...”

Her heart lurched and she revoked the
previous vanishing wish. Her lips lifted in a grin then Gran came through the
door, took one look at them and lapsed into a fit of laughing. There were no
words after that. Breena stood, ignored the few pieces of potato that plopped
to the floor and walked out of the room. She passed a still cackling Gran and stormed
straight into the bathroom.

Thame wanted to laugh. He hadn’t felt the
urge to laugh in so many years, he didn’t know if he actually could. She was a
mass of beauty and clumsiness but every time she tripped, he found himself
trying to catch her. Would she be shy in his arms or would she be a fiery vixen
who challenged his every move?

He liked the fact that she only flubbed
around him. Did Breena feel the heat that sparked between them? Was she too
afraid of him to accept this attraction? Was she even interested? He hadn’t
been with a woman in so damn long and hadn’t cared about his appearance until
he found himself in this cozy house with her. He also had the luck to meet her
at the worst possible time. They were on the verge of war and he was thinking
with his dick.

She would however, be in the shower right
now. He could hear water rushing through the pipes in the old house. He closed
his eyes and inhaled harshly. She was in there naked with water cascading down
bare skin, between her ripe breasts and the sweet cove between her legs. He
shifted, so he could lean forward and his back would greet the sun. The
bandaged protected his skin from any harmful rays or particles.

Besides, his erection needed some breathing
room. The quilt tented just as the older woman entered the bedroom. Just what
he needed more evidence that he was lust motivated.

“I met one of your kind once...”

She handed him a bowl of steaming stew
and he immediately thought of Breena. He took the bowl in both hands and held
it over his lap.

“He was...a nice man, a good man, he saved
me and for a while he’d come here to tell me stories about this magical kingdom.”

“What was his name?” Thame figured if she
really hated his kind, the stew would be poisoned or she’d just cleave off his
head, which meant it wasn’t hate as he first suspected.

“Keyn.”

His mouth nearly dropped open. He wasn’t
the only scared fairy in the kingdom but Keyn had this gnarly scar across his
eye. He also hated humans with a passion after they tortured him as a child.

“He’s still alive isn’t he? Probably
looking like a young stud while I’m all wrinkled.” she scrunched her nose in
distaste. “But he was like a brother to me. He was about fourteen when he found
us and had the cutest smile in all of Ireland. Very sweet and kind. He’d come
here every night to tell me these amazing stories and then one day he just
stopped showing up. It broke me heart.” Her voice became thick with accent and
both her hands fluttered to her chest. “Is he well? Is he happy?”

Thame wasn’t sure what to say. Should he
reveal the truth or go with a bold face lie? “He’s well.” He went with the lie,
but it was worth whatever penance when her face lit up with a smile.

“Eat your stew,” she said with a grin,
but it quickly faded. “And stay away from me Iníon!” With that, she walked out
and closed the door until barely a sliver of light illuminated the room.

Trying to maneuver to the bathroom
without his wings and a broken ankle was likely to be an event in itself. If he
had his wings, he could easily fly out take care of business and be back in bed
before either woman knew. He’d also be able to fly home.

Debating solved nothing so he slowly, cautiously
moved his legs to the edge of the bed. His good foot landed. When no pain
exploded through his body, he fumbled to his feet. His muscles were sore from
the lack of movement and the healing that was slowly taking place. The bone
where his wings grew had been untouched by the cruel hands of the trolls and
his beloved feature was slowly growing back. It would take at least a week for
them to pierce the raw, ravaged skin and then a long recovery before he could
possibly fly. He was looking at months of waiting unless Brielle, their healing
fairy was able to speed things up.

Thame used the wooden chair for leverage.
He’d take a step on his good leg, use the chair for balance and then shift the
chair forward before taking another step. He was breathing heavy. A sheen of
sweat bathed his skin, but it was working. He was halfway down a dark hallway.
He couldn’t tell the color of the floor or the walls he occasionally leaned
against. This would be a gift from the Goddess herself if he made it there and
back without either of the women knowing.

His back screamed like a banshee as he
shifted to the open door and nudged it closed with his elbow. Thame took care
of his personal business as quickly as possible and by the time his bladder
stopped screaming, the rest of his body took its place. Pain was so sever in
his back that shudders racked his body. Each step was an energy stealing effort
that caused his legs to buckle and his back to hunch. He wasn’t that far. There
was still a possibility of success.

The guys would be laughing at his feeble
state and the trolls would have easily had his head on their plate. That thought
alone was enough to boost him two more steps before his legs began to tremble.
His knuckles turned white as he tried to hold on. All to quickly the floor came
at his face. There was a thud, a sharp pain across his torso, then he was lying
on the floor with his palpitating heart and gasping breaths.

“Shite...” Her voice was sudden. It
sounded from the darkened hall with the soft patter of bare feet. “You should
have called,” she mumbled as she shifted to his side.