Page 16 of Detonation
She pulls me towards her, shifting us so that my head lies in her lap. Running her fingers through my hair, she waits for me to gain the courage as my body trembles with the grief, fixating on the final blow.
My hand finds the sheet and I squeeze with all my strength. “I was…” my voice falters, catching as I choke on the memory. “I was r…raped. He took my virginity.”
She hisses, her hand stilling, unable to stay silent in the face of this revelation. “Who, Lannie? Are they still alive?”
Nodding my head in her lap, I swallow the knot of grief. “My ... boyfriend. He’s being controlled by Anshar. His actions aren’t his own. That’s why I’m here now. To get Ash back.”
She continues stroking my hair, mulling over everything I unloaded on her. I appreciate her restraint in not interrogating me, despite how much this all must be destroying her too. Anshar grew up in front of her eyes. He was practically family to her.
As my sobs subside, I’m left with only tears that eventually run dry as well. Numb, finally, blessedly numb, I say, “I told you I was broken.”
She nudges me to turn my head to hers. “Do you remember the glow potions you loved in the witch realm as a child? They had to be shattered to spark the glow. That’s you, Lannie. You’ve been broken but now, you’ll glow in the aftermath of the damage.”
Letting her words sink into my soul, I feel the cracks in my heart mending, one stitch at a time.
She drops her lips to my forehead and presses a kiss to my skin.
“It’s time to glow, Lannie.”
* * *
Apparently, it was actually time to nap. Although dumping everything out and crying myself to dehydration was cathartic, it was also utterly exhausting.
As I stir from my nap, I stretch out like a cat, enjoying the pull of my muscles and the soft material of the clothing as it kisses my skin. They found a simple, green shirt and short combo for me to sleep in, a lot more comfortable than my leathers.
Wait a second,I think, narrowing my eyes. That didn’t hurt.Why didn’t that hurt?
I throw back the white linens from my body to examine my wounds but am met with smooth skin. There should be a nasty wound on my thigh from that lightning strike that melted the leather into my skin. And what about the broken ribs, courtesy of Anshar?
Poking at my ribs, I let out a shocked, appreciative, ‘Huh,’ at the lack of pain. I make a mental note to ask about that—but, more importantly, bear hug the person responsible.
I move my gaze to my hands, crusted in dirt, mud caked under my fingernails. Running my hands through my hair, my fingers catch on the twigs and leaves in the mess of locks.
I could really use a hot shower but I’d settle for a cold one at this point.
The curtain draws back from the tent I’m in and Grammie’s head pokes inside. A smile crosses her face before she steps in further. “I thought you’d never wake up! Once you fell asleep and I got you out of those dirty leathers, Zander came in to finish healing your wounds. You didn’t stir at all the entire time. You’ve been out for eighteen hours now.”
I really need to thank Zander.
My stomach growls loudly, clearly wanting to drive home the point that it hasn’t been fed in far too long. Grinning sheepishly at my Grandma, she laughs good-naturedly. “Some things never change,” she says, shaking her head. “Let’s get some food in you and I’ll get a bath arranged for you. You most definitely do not look the part of a queen right now, with all that dirt and debris clinging to you.”
She clucks and holds her hand out for me to take.
Pushing off from my cot, I take the offered hand and scoff. “What do you mean? This is just my normal Tuesday look. You don’t like it?” I end with a waggle of my brows.
She harrumphs and guides me out of my tent, giving me my first look at the light fae resistance. Little ones sprint around, dodging around the adults going about their daily tasks. I smile at the diversity of hair and skin colors, marveling in the looks of the fae with their pointed ears and glowing hair and skin.
Frowning down at myself, I wonder if I look the same. I haven’t seen myself since I crossed over into this realm. As I reach up to feel my own pointed ear, a squeeze on my hand brings my attention down to a little girl with mocha skin and long white hair.
My breath catches a little. She’sstunning.Her silver eyes pull me in further and I let go of my grandmother’s hand to bend down to eye level with the child. She frowns and shakes her head, raising her hand to pick the debris out of my hair as she chastises me, “You’re too pretty to walk around with dirt in your hair.”
My smile stretches across my face as my heart glows with tenderness for her. Such innocence. “Thank you. You’re very pretty yourself, sweetie.”
Once she’s satisfied that she’s sufficiently cleaned me off, she nods decisively and pats my head. “There,” she says before running off to her next adventure.
I stay kneeling for a moment, smiling at her carefree nature. All children deserve that freedom and peace.
I will do everything within my power to make sure they grow up safe, knowing only kindness and love.
