Page 1 of Wrath of the Fae

one

‘Being here hasn’t beaten you.

Because you, the Queen, are unbeatable.

Unstoppable. Unyielding.

A force to be reckoned with. A woman to tremble before. Not pity.’

Brennan looks again at Reid and Cyrus.

‘Don’t you agree? Both of you. You stand by her, right?’

Thesmellofrottenflesh.

The buzzing of flies.

The child’s eye sockets that writhe with maggots, and the look on his father’s face still contorted from whatever horror he saw before he died.

All this carnage and death create a coldness in my soul that will never warm. I’m frozen to the spot, watching this poor family stare at me with lifeless eyes and open mouths.

There’s nothing left of this village. Same as the one we passed a few hours ago.

The houses and huts are all burnt to ash, coating the ground like dirty snow. A line of spikes, each one adorned with a decaying head, encircle the village.

This family are the freshest. The most recent to be slain.

But there are so many others here.

So… so many…

Their hair blows gently in the breeze. The sunshine is pure and warm. The flowers in the meadows bloom.

A perfect spring day in every way.

But the exotic scent of the flowers fails to overpower the stench of death.

This is it now. The result of the new way of life that has taken hold of this strange realm I find myself in.

These men, women and children were slaughtered and left as a warning to anyone who dared to believe they could defy the new power that rules the Fae realm and all Thirteen Kingdoms.

If you stand against the new King or his twisted laws of tyranny and blood, you will end up here. Or those you love will.

And sadly, this is the best outcome. Because there are not nearly enough dead here to account for the entire village.

Many have been taken. And their fates are far worse than these poor souls left to rot.

Some are mere sun-bleached skulls. Others are strips of rotted flesh and tattered muscle.

I imagine the villagers watching each day as another pole was hammered into the soil surrounding their home, fearing whose head it was for.

Praying it was not getting prepared for theirs or someone they loved.

This is the law now. Love means nothing. Loyalty to the old ways means death. Fighting feels pointless.

I blink, letting out a breath that echoes in my ears.

I reach out, the tips of my fingers caressing the child’s cheek. My power spikes, swelling in my chest until I can’t breathe.

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