Page 12 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

The door swung open and I covered my eyes. A feminine growl came from just feet away. Hands wrenched my wrists away from my face.

"You!" Aeryn shrilled pointing at me. "It's not funny. And you, Sir Big Mouth, you told him?!"

Lorne entered without responding. I followed behind, a step lighter than I'd been in weeks.

Now, I just needed to figure out how to keep it going.

Two

Raina

Unable to sleep any longer, I got up, dressed, and sliced some fruit for breakfast. Sitting in the rocking chair, one of the few pieces of furniture in the cozy home Aeryn was lending to me, I ate slowly and waited for the sun's rays to breach the horizon.

Here in Greenhollow, time didn’t move the same. It kept a sluggish pace and I worried it always would. I didn’t like stagnancy because keeping busy was the best way to occupy my mind.

When I finished eating, I washed the knife and plate, and returned to the surprisingly comfortable chair. Rocking. Staring.

Ruminating.

My world had tilted, a dizzying spin of confusion and betrayal. I used to believe things couldn't get worse for me, not after my parents had ensured Liam would never be mine.

I'd been rocked to the core, reeling. Back then, a part of me hoped Liam would perform a miracle and undo their actions. Orfight them, fight the world and every obstacle in it so we could stay together.

Like I should have. Like I painfully regretted not doing.

Under my palms, a thin layer of ice formed, binding my skin to the wooden arms of the rocking chair. My magic hadn’t acted out like this since I was a youngling.

Wonderful.I was regressing. Maybe later I would revert to sucking my thumb.

Thankfully, no one was around to witness the relapse into my toddler years. Not that I wasn’t used to the constant judgment from others, because I was.

The wayward thought brought on an entire slew of memories I would rather forget, as well as the bitter emotions that came with them.

Without waiting for the ice to thaw completely, I peeled my hands off the armrests and lowered them to my lap. Unfortunately, the sting wasn’t much of a distraction.

The missing skin would heal in a moment, anyway. Until then, I’d sit here with my thoughts. Sighing, my head dropped back, resting on the worn padding tied to the slats of the rocking chair.

It was then, in the quiet of Aeryn’s cottage, the most random musing came to mind. Two fae cowering in front of their new master in the underworld.

“I hope your souls are burning in an eternal pit of fire and despair,” I whispered, pretending my parents could hear me.

It wasn’t until I had watched in horror as my mother tried to kill Aeryn that I allowed myself to hate them. Prior to that moment, my denial had been deep-rooted and long-lived. Shameful, even.

How different my life might have been if I’d been brave enough to stand up to them, to cut ties. Instead, I worked to be the perfect daughter by doing everything they asked.

All of my efforts were in vain. My mother remained cold, my father distant, both of them quietly cruel.

There was nothing to be done about it now. The past was the past and there was no going back, even if my memory insisted on replaying every moment of hurt and regret.

Looking down at my borrowed tunic and pants, I sniffed. What would they think of me now? Did I care?

The illusion that things could not be worse for me had shattered. That day at the end of the trials, I discovered the horrible truth that things, in fact, could always get worse.

Their treachery was a glacier sitting on my chest. Adding to it was the knowledge there was little I could do to right their wrongs. Not unless I could bring back King Orson from his poisonous death.

"Bastards.” My words frosted in the chilled morning air.

I hadn't lit the stove. I didn't need the heat. Frost fae ran hot, which was why I could endure such cold temperatures.

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