Page 73 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

I even knew how hard she tried to please those monsters who held approval over her head like a damn treat to be earned if she was a good little pet. She’d been too young to see it and I’d done nothing to help her.

What a fucking mess.

Raina had never been the flower I accused her of being. I’d always thought of her as soft, delicate … and later, weak in her convictions.

No, she was the winter snowdrop—a flower strong enough to dare to bloom through layers of frost, its beauty all the more striking against the barren landscape of snow and ice.

She had endured her parents. Since birth she’d done everything they wanted. I had ended up resenting her for it, not knowing what it was like to never feel loved by parents.

She’d endured. She’d fought. And now she wept, not for herself, but for another.

The realization bore down on me with the weight of a divine revelation. I had wronged her with my assumptions, doubted the sincerity of her love.

Leaning against the wall, my gaze never left her trembling form. Raina, who could make a seasoned warrior falter with her fighting spirit, was the same female who now poured out her soul at her friend’s bedside.

She was the piece of me I hadn't known was missing, the warmth against the eternal plague of feeling incomplete. In that moment, I knew that whatever frost had settled between us, she was worth melting it all away.

Worth dying for. Worth living for. Most of all, worth fighting for.

But my most vexing question lingered like the last gasp of winter—did she still see me as the male I once was, or had my hostility driven her too far from reach?

Sixteen

Liam

In the stillness of the night, I stood firm against the infirmary wall, keeping watch. It was the only thing I could do to feel useful.

My father had stopped in earlier then vanished, tending to the aftermath of the ambush. He’d come by to inform us they discovered why our posted guards hadn’t heard the invaders. The reason made my skin crawl.

The enemy had brought an Anuban witch.

Though rare in the Torrach Realm, there were a known handful of the dark practitioners. To my knowledge, however, none of them were known to reside anywhere on this continent.

Luckily, they hadn’t killed anyone. The witch had used a powerful spell to trap each guard inside a nightmare in their own mind. The spell died when the enemies fled.

It appeared they knew better than to kill a Duersian, but they weren’t smart enough to realize our father would never let the attack go.

The door creaked open. Gunnar's tall frame filled the entryway, his shadow spilling into the room like dark mead from an overturned chalice. The scent of iron and earth clung to him, remnants of battle that seemed out of place in the sanctuary of the infirmary.

"Make way, little brother," Gunnar grumbled, though his eyes softened upon seeing Mirrelle's still form. "I'll stand guard over her."

My chest tightened, wariness clashing with reluctant gratitude. It wasn't often Gunnar offered peace, let alone help.

But there he was, gaze lingering on Mirrelle with something close to affection. A warrior with a heart, then. Who would have thought the answer to softening him towards us was a little bloodshed?

"Raina," Gunnar called to her, his voice surprisingly gentle for a male more accustomed to barking orders. "Go. Clean up and rest. Liam will escort you. I've got Mirrelle."

Raina looked up, rubbing her sleepy eyes. A sharp inhale came when she noticed the flakes of dried blood coming off her hands.

She nodded once, a silent surrender to necessity.

"Thank you, Gunnar," she whispered.

As she passed by, I could see the tremble in her hands, the crimson stains on her skin and clothes. Knowing it wasn’t hers didn’t make it much easier to stomach.

Gunnar met my gaze through the dim light. There was no mistaking the intent behind that look. It was a silent plea to mend fences long broken, perhaps even a chance for redemption.

"Take care of her, Liam," he murmured, his tone brooking no argument. "She needs more than just a clean slate."

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