She stumbles back from me, clutching the bag the female from the inn gave her, until she comes to rest against the broken wall, the small stones still clinging together after millennia.
“I’m sorry, Linton.” She gasps. “I fell asleep, and I thought I was falling.”
“I would never let you fall.”
She lifts her eyes to mine for a second before she slides down the stones and onto her bottom, her dress flowing around her like waves.
“I…I know you wouldn’t. But I’ve been let down before.”
I am on my knees, in front of her.
“Who hurt you?” I snarl.
Her terrified eyes are wide as she takes me in. I appreciate I am quite fierce, but I should not frighten my sweet mate. I close my wings and slide a finger under her chin, tilting her head to me.
“Whoever touched you will be rendered limb from limb before I present you with their head on a platter.”
Kaitlyn twitches, her entire body rippling. I think she likes my idea. And I like the way the orbs on her chest move.
“That won’t be necessary. He’s already dead.”
I’m not sure I expected the level of disappointment I feel at her words. The idea of destroying something for someone I like gives me a warm feeling inside.
“He?”
“Lord Guyzance.” She forces his name past her lips.
I’m not sure I’ve ever growled as loudly as I do at the mention of his name.
“The Barghest did for him.” My claws cut into the palms of my hands, and I feel the blood flowing. “I hate the Barghest.”
“I don’t,” Kaitlyn says quietly. “He rid the Yeavering of one of the real monsters.”
My wings flare again at her words. She has a take on the death of the foul Faerie Lord I cannot see.
“I will find his remains and cut them up more.” I growl under my breath.
“You don’t need to do that.” Kaitlyn sighs.
I stare out over the grasslands, wishing there was a Faerie here and now. One I could easily destroy. But there is not.
I will find one, eventually. And they will pay for what they did to my Kaitlyn.
Whatever they did to Kaitlyn.
“I wish I could,” I growl eventually. “But instead, I will promise to never drop you.”
“Thanks.” She looks up at me with a slight quirk to the corner of her mouth.
“I mean it, my Kaitlyn. You are mine, and I would never let harm come to you.” I take her hand because she liked it the last time I did it. “And you taste like the moorland air.”
Her eyes widen for a second and I smell her sweet perfume once again.
KAITLYN
How could I have gone from feeling safe enough in Linton’s arms to fall asleep in the air to a nightmare so vicious I could have sworn I was going to die?
But I am not dead. Instead I have a pacing mothman who only stops when he takes my hand. His are rough, clawed, and gnarly with his use of weapons. But they’re warm and big enough they shouldn’t drop me.
