Fairy Unbroken (10 page)

Keyn was a broken fairy.

He sat up and glanced around, surprised to see a familiar
blue-haired fairy sitting on a big boulder. “Thanks for watching my back,” Keyn
muttered.

Whisper nodded from his spot half in the shadows and then slipped
back into full darkness.

At least he had someone watching over his sorry ass. He was almost
afraid to see Trillian again. What would she say? What would she do? Her chosen
mate was a fucking failure. Keyn stood on shaky legs. He grabbed the loincloth
from the ground and placed it back on his hips then slowly walked through the
darkness toward home. His world was falling apart. Keyn didn’t know which
direction to proceed.

“The king wants a meeting.” Whisper’s voice came from the shadows.

Keyn didn’t bother to look at him. He turned on his heels and took
to the sky. His wings beat as rapidly as his heart. He headed for the palace
where Trillian was. Would she be in the meeting? Probably not, but what if he
passed her in the hall? Would she be disgusted by having a scarred and useless
mate? He landed hard on his feet and approached the door with caution. It’s not
like she’d be standing on the other side waiting. He opened it, stepped into
the empty hallway, and headed for the glass room.

All the fairies were in attendance, no humans, so Keyn stepped
into the room of fluttering wings and burly men. He stood off to the side,
catching sight of Whisper on the dark balcony.

King Carrick stood before them, his blue wings spread wide and his
lips in a determined line. “There was another attack. They managed to get
inside our palace and attempted to take Breena.” The room was quiet. “Whisper
deterred them. This latest attack is added to the list that is steadily
growing.” He lifted into the air, hovering above everyone else. “I will not
stand idly by anymore. Our defense is hindered by the lack of fairy power and
such a large area. Mord suggests it is time we take the offense.”

Keyn glanced left. He spotted the blond-haired fairy, Mord.

The man cleared his throat and stood from the couch. “I cannot let
the king procrastinate anymore. This is a war and we have done nothing but
defend. I propose we take all of our fighters and attack. I’ve researched and
found the main cave for the trolls. It’s estimated that there are nearly two
hundred in residence. If we can create a rock slide or cave-in, we could
greatly diminish their numbers.”

“What of the woman?” Thame spoke out. His face showed contempt.
“We leave them here, unprotected. Attacking a cave that
might
hold the trolls.”

“My research is solid,” Mord said with a bite of attitude. “They
have kidnapped, gravely injured, and tortured us. They ripped your wings off,
Thame! I say we fight back.”

“Do you think I don’t want all of them dead?” Thame countered. “I
would pull the very eyes from each of their heads if I had the time but leaving
our human women and pregnant queen without protection is pure madness.”

“He has a point.” The king interrupted their debate.

Mord snarled at Thame before turning to their king. “Your highness,
we could barricade them in the palace, perhaps surround it with the human salt
to keep them safe from the trolls until our return. We must do this. There is
no other course of action. Fight or become a myth,” he finished with
enthusiasm.

Keyn was on the fence about the risky plan but the king nodded.

“We have been working our way toward this. It is a hard decision,
one that I pray to the Goddess is the right path. Fairy warriors prepare for
battle. We leave at midnight.”

Keyn waited for the room to clear. He was as torn as the king.
There was no way they could continue fighting off the trolls but a part of his
soul feared for the women. He admitted this ache was for Trillian. The woman
who would probably...

He glanced up as the woman in question walked through the door.

She looked up from the book in her hands and came to an abrupt
halt. For a moment, they were silent, awkward, and then she spoke. “Hi.”

Keyn nodded. “Hello.” He didn’t know what else to say. There was
only one thing to do: run. He turned swiftly on his heels and headed for the
open balcony doors.

“You’re going to go fight them. The trolls?”

He stopped, glancing at her beautiful reflection in the glass
walls. “Yes.”

“You’re all just going to leave us here, alone?” She jammed a hand
on her hip.

“We’ll barricade you in. Salt around the perimeter. You’ll be safe
until we return.”

“Says you,” she muttered, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“I can’t stay here and babysit you humans,” Keyn shouted, harsher
than he meant to. “I am a warrior. The king says fight and I will do so.”

“Fine.” She clutched the book in her hand. “Just don’t die.” With
that, she turned on her heels and left.

Keyn stood there for a moment, digesting her words. Trillian
cared. She worried about him. It was enough to jolt him from a spiraling dark
depression. Keyn went out the same door. He followed her slowly down the
hallway and waited in the doorway as she walked to her brother’s side. Keyn
watched, mesmerized, as Trillian opened the book and began to read. Her voice was
melodic and steady. He found himself drawn, yet again, to her. Keyn stood there
listening to the story of a human queen dealing with her husband’s death and
trying to rule a world torn apart by war. Page after page, the story
brightened, strengthening each character. Keyn listened until Trillian stopped
and glanced behind her.

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but when you come
back, we’re figuring it out.” She seemed to be satisfied by that and Trillian
went back to the story.

Keyn turned to the hall. The sounds of warriors gearing up for
battle took his mind temporarily off the issue of his mate. This human woman
had somehow gotten under his ribs and nailed herself to his heart. When had the
anger dissipated so quickly? Now he felt only dislike, and the stirring of
something else. Could he actually like her? Love her? Keyn shook his head and
followed the group of warriors.

 
It was time for battle.

Keyn took to the sky. Glancing back, he caught an image that would
forever remain in his mind. Trillian was on the balcony, her hands over her
heart. He skidded to the right and Thame flicked his ear before they rammed
into each other.

“Get your head in the battle,” Thame roared, the cool-headed fairy
replaced by the anger and torn emotions of combat.

Keyn growled but pulled his sword free.
Battle
would do him good, sword in hand,
bloody screams in the air. It would take control of his mind, his soul, and
that’s what he needed now. They followed King Carrick and Mord out over the
forest away from the women that were supposedly well protected. It did make
sense that they fought these bastards on their own turf for once.

****

Trillian stood on that balcony for what seemed like an eternity.
She watched them fly in the sky and brighten it with wild-colored wings. It was
one hell of a sight, grown men in very little clothing flying against the
backdrop of a dark night with twinkling stars. She waited until they were
completely out of range and then she returned to Cameron’s side.

Trillian held his hand, her thoughts roaming. Keyn was a fucked-up
mess and something inside her, way deep down inside, wanted to help him. She
just had to fight the ego that he bruised and the wall around her heart. If
only Cameron was awake. He always gave the best advice, helpful but not
preachy.

She glanced at her big brother and squeezed his hand tighter. He
had improved, even if it was subtle. Trillian noted how his cheeks now had some
color. They were no longer sickly pale and that small shift toward hope made
her feel so much better. He was still too thin, unconscious, and breathing
heavily. She also noted a rash had formed on his shoulders, which Brielle
insisted was normal.

What a woman. That lady came in here every day and spent hours
taking care of him. She’d collapse and sleep only to wake and try again. The
fairy in her thoughts appeared in the doorway. “How is he?”

“Better.” Trillian smiled. “He has more color.” Brielle fluttered
toward them, gorgeous white wings batting slightly. Her slim body filled out a
stunning white sundress.

“Yes, he does seem less pale,” she said and gave Trillian a smile.

“Are you stuck in the palace too? I’d thought you’d be with the
others in the fight.”

Brielle sat on the other side of Cameron. “Mord does not wish me
to be there. I am not very skilled with battle.”

“He hasn’t taught you?” Trillian found that odd. Every woman
should have basic defense skills.

“He wishes to keep me from any harm,” she said but there was a
sadness in her voice that was hard to ignore. Was there trouble in paradise?

Trillian opened her mouth to press further but a noise interrupted
the conversation. Shattering glass had both women jumping to their feet. “The
doors are barricaded and the salt is in place, right?”

Brielle nodded, color draining from her face.

“Fuck.” Trillian had this feeling, a rumbling, pit-of-her-stomach
throbbing that started as soon as she heard that noise.

“It could be one of the others. Perhaps they knocked something
over.”

“Yeah? No. I don’t have that kind of luck.” Trillian turned around
and pulled the blanket off Cameron. She grabbed his pajama-clad arm and tugged
him upward. “Help me,” she pleaded, slowly dragging Cameron from his spot.

“What? Where?”

“In the closet. He’s defenseless. Please, Brielle, I’m begging
you.” She tugged and Cameron nearly knocked her over with his weight.

“But the queen.” Her white wings fluttered.

“I’ll get her. I promise. I’ll protect her with my life. Please.”
Trillian breathed a sigh of relief when Brielle helped her move Cameron. They
stashed him in the closet and Brielle cuddled his head as Trillian closed the
door on them. “Stay put,” she whispered. After she closed the door, she moved
to the table to pick up a knife. Keyn’s knife. He’d dropped it during their…
what the fuck did she call it? Tryst. Trillian picked the blade up, wrapping
her fingers around the hilt.

What the hell was she doing? She opened to door. This was nuts.
Trillian was tough but she sure as hell couldn’t fight creatures armed with
sharp fucking swords but she owed the fairies. They saved Cameron, and as far
as she was concerned, she would honestly die to protect them. As long as
Cameron lived, her demise was inconsequential.

Trillian shuffled down the hallway. Quiet. She tried to slow her
breathing, but it was hard with nerves running rampant. She stopped mid-step. A
breeze drifted through the hall and she sniffed the air as Keyn told her. The
smell was unmistakable. “Fuck.”

Gripping the dagger tighter, she moved forward. Despite her
rolling stomach, she made it to the glass room. Her eyes roamed and she found
Breena sleeping on the couch. Trillian quickly made her way to the woman and
covered her mouth.

Breena woke with a jerk, nearly severing Trillian’s arm with an
axe she was sleeping with.

Trillian narrowed her eyes at the woman who looked sheepish. She
shook her head, put a finger to her lips, and mouthed,
They’re here
. Breena swallowed hard and sat up. “Hide,” Trillian
whispered.

“The queen,” she whispered back.

“I’m getting her.” Trillian stood and went out into the hall. A
few moments later, she heard Breena’s timid footsteps. Great. The two women who
couldn’t fight were going to protect the queen of the fairies.

Great fucking plan.

Trillian opened the queen’s bedchamber door. Well, that plan was
looking better. The queen could kick some serious ass. She glanced around the
room. Three trolls were dead and Queen Brook was fighting off another with two
daggers. Trillian charged up behind one and slammed her knife into its back. It
hissed, turned, and Brook sliced at its neck with her blade. It went down
quickly.

“Thank you,” Brook said, covered in black blood and catching her
breath. “Damn fucker wouldn’t die.” The queen shook her head.

Trillian grinned. She was beginning to like the queen.

Chapter Thirteen

“Do you know how many are here?”

Trillian shook her head. She watched as the queen ripped her
nightgown off at the knees. She pulled the sleeves right off the thing and tied
her wild hair up with a piece of the material. Her swollen belly didn’t seem to
get in the way.

“Nobody is touching my baby,” she said when their eyes locked.
“Where are the others?”

“Brielle and Cameron are hiding in a closet,” Trillian offered.

“Gran is in our bedchamber. She was out like a light when I left,”
Breena said.

“Fine. First we get her, hide her, and then we go room to room
together and kill these fucking smelly bastards.”