Veiled Fae (Fractured Fae 2)

Pain explodes across my back as the king shatters the chair over me, raging about his greatness. Over and over the king brings the chair leg down on my bound and weak body. I can’t physically best him right now, and he uses it to his advantage.

Still, I pray to the Spirits for help.

He continues to bludgeon me in quick succession, crunches and cracks filling the air, though I can’t tell if they’re from my body or the abused wood. The only thing that breaks him from the trance is the chair leg mercifully breaking as it comes down on my shoulder one final time. I cough blood onto the floor in front of me, my body throbbing in time to my heartbeat. My brain is eerily silent, the pain overshadowing everything else until it’s all I know.

Both of us try to catch our breath, the king wheezing with each lungful of air. Finally, I feel a warmth spread through me, dulling the pain as my magic surges forward again.

Thank you, I tell the Spirits of Faerie in my head, unwilling to say it out loud. I now have an advantage and I don’t want him to know.

Looking around the room, I try to formulate a plan. Finally, I realize that throwing him against the wall will be my best bet. The jagged stones he chose for his ballroom will be his demise, and there’s sweet, poetic justice in that.

The frozen statues complicate the plan, surrounding most of the walls and making them harder to hit. Though the higher I throw him, the further he falls. But if he lands on a frozen fae, they may not survive, and I can’t have that on my conscience.

Then my eyes land on the fireplace. The mantle is carved from raw stone, and above it is a shield and sword display.

As if he can hear my inner plans, he finally stands and starts to circle me like a shark. Each step is exhausted, his face still a lingering red.

It’s now or never.

With that thought in mind, I lash out with my wind magic. Throwing every ounce of power the Spirits gave me into it, I slammed him into the wall right above the fireplace. His back hits the mantle with a sickening crack, his head slamming into the protruding shield above. With a feral snarl, he tries to fight my magic’s hold, but all he accomplishes is slumping to the floor in a heap.

He’s down for no more than thirty seconds before he hauls himself to his feet. My heart sinks at the sight, it shouldn't have been possible. Even his back is twisted at an odd angle and he looks more monster than fae.

If I don’t strike again, this will end in my death. That alone has me lashing out again, sweeping him off of his feet and slamming him like a ragdoll once more. This time his head hits the stone of the mantel. He drops as my magic dries up, a red streak on the stone as he falls away.

This time he doesn’t move, and neither do I. My magic is gone and my body is far too broken to continue this battle. Darkness starts to pull me in and I don’t bother to fight it.

I just hope my efforts were enough.

Chapter 8

Gerwyn

Being frozen in this state is a special brand of torture. My body is numb, almost like it’s a separate entity from myself now, but my mind is sharp. From my angle in front, I can see the empty center of the ballroom and the frozen statues across from me. Jacob stands to my side but I can’t get a good look at him outside of a quick glance in my peripheral.

We can see the sun rise and fall in this room, the light reflecting on the shining marble and silver, then dimming to near blackness at night. Sixty days have passed since we’ve been brought in and every day I start to lose hope. Bella has been missing since he dragged us apart and even in the king’s rantings we’ve had no indication that she’s safe.

The king’s loud rants precede him today, far earlier than usual. The sun is still up which isn’t his usual time and the man ran on schedule like clockwork. Then again, we’ve heard explosions for hours, the castle shuddering with each one. I refuse to let myself hope that it’s Bella, simply because I don’t think I could take it if I was wrong.

“Disgusting offspring half-breed. No blood of mine! Who does she think she is?! This is your fault, you know!” He stalks into view and gestures wildly to his son. The rest becomes incoherent but that was all I needed to hear.

Bella is alive. She’s safe for now.

His words give me solace, knowing she still has fight left in her and isn’t frozen here like the rest of us is enough for now.

The king stops raging and storms out at the sound of another blast as it shakes the ballroom. I have no clue what they could possibly be, but it has the king insanely mad. Well, worse than he normally is would be more accurate.

He stormed out with purpose and I pray to the Spirits that it isn’t Bella he’s going after. The thought of him harming her kills me and no matter how hard I try to break this curse, it always fails. Magic fielded by a stone of power is no match for even someone with my spell aptitude.

The sound of metal dragging catches my attention. We’ve got a view of the doorway on the left and I know he’s staged us here on purpose.

The former king stalks into the room, dragging something behind him, clutching a thick chain in his hand. The sight of

Bella has my heart filling with relief and agony at the same time. I’m relieved to lay eyes on her, but my beautiful queen is covered in dirt and grime and has lost at least twenty pounds. She’s a walking skeleton with matted hair and hollow eyes, a shadow of her former self.

I’m unable to do anything other than watch on in horror as the king talks about what he did to the realm. Bella looks like she has shrunk in on herself, bracing for the storm coming her way. He must have tortured her, the only light I can see in her beautiful eyes is that of anger and hate. She’s still as feisty as ever, hurling insults at the king any chance she can. Though at this moment I wish she’d practice self-preservation. He’s far too unhinged.

He slams his hand into her ribs and kicks her knee out of place. It doesn’t look broken, but she crumples to the ground in pain. His foot luckily just misses the point of breaking it. If I could have screamed, I would have. I try to focus everything I have on freeing myself, silently cursing the king.