Page 7 of The Fae Girl 1

The sound was too lyrical.

Too beautiful.

My fear was still there, grasping onto my peripheries. Refusing to slink away and yet I hadn’t fully succumbed to it. Despite the chase, despite the horrible repeat of so many times I’d run before, I’d kept enough control to not have a fully-fledged panic attack. I guess that was the silver lining of today’s events.

I winced, running a hand down, checking for wounds when in reality the only real wound I had right now was my pride.

Clumsyfoot strikes again.

I snarled at the words. At the taunt. I was past that. And yet right now it didn’t feel like it.

I sat up staring around me. Sebastian wasn’t here. Somehow I knew he was gone. Perhaps he’d gone back to the house. Perhaps he’d run off knowing there’d be consequences for what he’d done.

My legs were so covered in mud I could barely see any of the blue of my jeans. My jumper was sticking to my back in a way that felt almost claustrophobic.

I tried to move, to pull my feet out but the boots wouldn’t budge. It was like they were concreted in. Like the mud refused to yield.

I let out a low breath. I could hardly walk back barefoot and yet what choice did I have? The wellies were stuck and they weren’t coming out.

And then a twig snapped.

Close enough to make me freeze.

And then another.

I tried one last attempt to free my wellies because running now, running barefoot through all this bramble would really hurt.

Two men, dressed in shirts and old fashioned looking trousers and boots, appeared, staring at me.

“What the…?” One said but the other just grinned. Like he’d found treasure.

I sprung up, my head screaming once more to run and I spun around, ignoring the pain that tore through my feet as I bolted.

Except I didn’t get far. I even didn’t get beyond the first tree because a third man stepped out, and with a perfectly timed punch to the stomach he brought me down, groaning, onto all fours.

I landed hard, feeling the impact judder through me.

“Who the hell are you?” I half wheezed.

“More like who are you? This is the King’s Land. You’ve no right to be here.” The fatter of the three said, yanking my head up by my hair, forcing me to look at him.

“The King’s Land?” I replied. “This is my land. It’s part of the Gifford Estate.”

“The what?” The lankier one said screwing up his face as he walked around to stare at me.

“The Gifford Estate. You know the house up over the hill.” I replied. Like they could have missed a house as big as Hollingshurst.

“Ain’t no house for miles around. This is hunting land. Why would anyone put a house on it?” The man still holding my hair stated.

I snarled, yanking myself free.

“Look, I don’t care who you are, or what kind of weird cosplay thing you’re all into but I’ve had enough for one day. I’ve already been chased by my gardener and I’m not bloody well being pushed around by you.” I said hoping I sounded far more aggressive than I looked.

“Cosplay? Cosplay? What’s a Cosplay?” The third man said mulling over the word like he’d never heard it before.

“You know what. I said enough and I mean it.” I snapped. “I’m going back to the house. You need to leave and if I find you here again I’ll call the police.”

“Oh no you don’t missy. Think we’ll let you just wander off by yourself. You’ve got to answer to the King’s men. You’re trespassing you are.” The one who’d punched me said grabbing my arm before I could take a step.