Page 24 of Chased By the Fairy

One of the toads leapt and caught hold of him, trapping his wings to his sides. Sorrel’s chest heaved as he climbed to his feet, backing up as Mr Toad sprinted for him.

“You’ll pay for what you’ve done!” He could see the brute’s nose was darker than before, as was one of his eyes – bruising from the hits Sorrel had landed earlier.

Before Mr Toad could reach him, someone else scooped Sorrel into their arms and lifted off. He nearly screamed when his feet unexpectedly found air.

“Get back here, beetle!” Mr Toad yelled, glaring at them from the ground.

The swallow grabbed ahold of the moth’s wings before he could fly after them. He bravely kept him on the ground, allowing Sorrel to escape with this new stranger without him.

Sorrel was taken away, but he watched as the kind swallow sprite was overrun by guards.Oh no.

The rush of wind whipped his hair around his head. He spat it out of his mouth and pushed it away to examine the black form of the beetle sprite who had captured him. His face was fuzzy, while beady eyes looked forward and feelers whooshed back over his hard-shelled head.

A metallic-green tinge glistened across his smooth, armour-like flesh.

“Looks like you owe me,” the beetle said with a lop-sided, unnerving grin. “And I know just how a pretty thing like you can repay me.”

After a few minutes of being in the air, once they were safely away from the awful toy cruise ship, Sorrel focused on the beetle sprite holding him.

He just couldn’t seem to catch a break!

From one captor to the next. He worried that the next place was going to be just as terrible as the last one.Actually, thinking about it, nothing can be worse than Mr Toad and his dancing club.Sorrel’s entire body shuddered in disgust.

“I owe you nothing,” Sorrel snapped, eyeing his translucent-green wings. If they weren’t a deadly fall’s height from the ground, he would have shoved at him to be put down. “I didn’t ask you to save me.”

The beetle wore a nice, plain plum vest that almost matched his black outer shell. Sorrel wasn’t sure if the strip of white around his neck was a necktie or just his markings.

“Perhaps not,” he said nonchalantly, as his eyes – black yet somehow filled with a bone-chilling darkness – slipped to Sorrel’s face. “But you did need saving, and I helped you.”

“From one assaulter to the next?” Sorrel sneered. “I could have been saved by the swallow sprite who was helping me!”

At least heseemedkind.

“Assaulter?” he scoffed, darting over a branch before flyingon, his wings buzzing loudly. “I never touch my merchandise. I saved your life, and the cost of that is now you belong to me.”

“P-pardon?” he stuttered. “Belong to you?”

Why did every word that came out of this beetle sprite’s mouth cause a leaden ball of dread to settle in his gut?

His clawed fingers dug into Sorrel’s sides as he held him tighter, meshing their bodies together. He winced, his arms locked at his sides and unable to do anything to prevent it.

Despite the warm sunshine coming from a beautiful blue sky, he shivered in the cool air that brushed his hair around his shoulders. He still wore his dance attire. He didn’t know what was worse: the fact the outfit was so minimal it made the chill clutch at him like a set of claws, or that he was embarrassed to be seen in it outside the club.

“I’ve never seen a wingless flower fairy before. You couldn’t imagine my surprise when one of my workers told me about you dancing on stage for Cane.” Since he’d been watching where he was going, the beetle cast Sorrel a gaze filled with excitement. “Let alone when I saw you there myself.”

“You’re not going to make me dance like that ugly toad did, are you?” Sorrel asked, despite already trying to come up with a plan to get away.

As soon as he puts me down, I’ll punch him and then run.

Hopefully he ran into someone who could take him home. Someone who wasn’t a creep.

“That is Cane’s business, not mine.” The beetle gave a small chuckle. “No, you can say I like to...collectpeculiar things. I offered to pay a pretty penny for you, but Cane refused, and getting past his little gang is near impossible. Lucky for me, you basically ran into my arms.”

Sorrel looked over the beetle’s shoulder, wishing he knew where they were going. Below him, shrubs and foliage passed at a dizzying rate.

Last time he’d flown, he’d felt safe against Cypress’ body as he hugged the fairy from behind. Now, vertigo wavered his vision at the sheer distance below them, at how fast they flew, and nausea rolled in his gut.

“Please,” Sorrel begged, beseeching the beetle with his eyes. “I just want to go home.”

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