The Ravaged Fairy Read online

  “I’m over to the market. Don’t forget to cut the potatoes for dinner.” Gran was at the front door, her jacket already over her shoulders. “I left some warm broth on the counter for the man...” She gingerly pointed to the other room. “...and fresh bandages for you to clean him up. Iníon... be careful with him.”

  “Gran.” She rolled of her eyes. She could take care of herself.

  “If he tries anything, you have me permission to hack off his good bits off.”

  “Gran!” A giggle lingered in her shocked tone.

  “I’m just saying. I love you, Iníon.”

  “I love you, too...” Breena covered her grin until Gran closed the front door and her little car rumbled to life. She wasn’t going near his good bits, and if she did it would not be to cut them off. First thing to do was get dressed. She would not be going near that gorgeous hunk of a man without proper clothing or else her mind would stay on the good bits instead of helping him heal.

  It took only a moment to remove her favorite piece of clothing, and shove a pair of jeans along with a black sweater over her head. The black boots with white laces had extra cushion on the soles to help with her long walks to town. What happened to the original black ones, Breena glared at that freaking cat. It glanced at her with big green eyes and meowed innocently then scuttled under her bed.

  Now she stood outside the stranger’s door with her hands full and her heart beating wildly in her chest. Why was she so anxious? Sure, he was striking but that had never made her body hum with desire like it did with him. She didn’t even know his name but the thought of that silky golden hair or his warm flesh made her pulse skyrocket. Breena shook her head, squared her shoulder and opened the door.

  The room was quiet except for the gentle sound of his breathing. She shifted a chair from the kitchen to the side of his bed and placed the things in her arms on it. Her eyes wondered. How could they not roam his covered body? The clothes she grabbed yesterday were not on his person. His body was covered by Gran’s quilt, correction, his lower half was covered. The good bits, she grinned then walked to the big window that faced their front yard. She threw the curtain apart, this was another of Gran’s quilting projects and the movement displaced a lungful of dust. She wrinkled her nose, clicked the lock on the window and pushed the panes open. That would help him heal, feeling the sun warm his body and the wind on his face, a very handsome face. Her mind was definitely wandering.

  She bit her lower lip and returned to the man that occupied her thoughts. How sad was she? He was the excitement, of her year. She plopped on the bed a little harder than she meant. The old wooden frame groaned and there was distinct snap before Breena felt herself tumble to the ground.

  “Oh, shite.” Her hands instantly went to him as he rolled toward her, on an angle the bed was a makeshift ramp. His bare chest pressed against her palms and she pushed furiously to keep him from falling atop her. If he fell, he would land right over her and roll straight onto his damaged back. She pressed harder, used all her strength to ease him back, but it was no use. “Wake up!” she yelled right at him and his lids began to lift.

  Chapter Two

  Breena stared into the most compelling light green eyes that swirled with hints of yellow. They seemed to swirl as he shifted an arm and pressed his hand beside her head, using the floor as leverage to keep from squishing her. She couldn’t tear her sight away from his, they sucked her whole soul into a void of romance and lust.

  “Who are you?”

  His voice, dear lord, was so raspy and deep she wanted to melt into a puddle. “Breena...” she whispered and frowned as she pressed against his chest more firmly. He was after all going to fall on her and there was no way he’d have the strength to pull himself up. Her muscles began to scream in protest as he kept staring.

  “Breena...like the...”

  “Yes.” she didn’t let him finish, her body protested the weight to loudly. “Me parents named me after a mythological fairy palace. Now help me because I’m trying to save your arse.” Technically, it was his back she was trying to help. At this point, she’d say anything to get him to move.

  He squinted in confusion. “Save me?”

  So he was daft. “Yes, pull yourself...” she never finished the sentence. The remainder of the bed cracked and he landed with a thud atop her. He weighed a ton, more than a ton. His body crushed hers into the hard floor and his lids once again fell shut. “Great...” At least he hadn’t rolled and landed on his back. Now she was stuck beneath him and couldn’t budge his massive size. Worse was that his hips had shifted and she felt the thick jut of his manhood against her middle. Breena’s eyes went wide, her first erection. She giggled inwardly at how that thought came out and shoved at his shoulders. After a minute of grunting and pushing, she gave up. Her hands and head fell back to the floor. His face was against her neck, his lips so close to her skin she felt his breath tease her flesh. Moisture gathered between her legs. How the hell did she always get stuck in these situations? Well, not exactly like this but she had a tendency to be at the worst place at the worst time.

  Of course, this had to be the best spot for one of her bad luck moments. He was heavy but not in a bad way. She closed her eyes and gave her torso the barest of wiggles. His erection hadn’t dissipated and she felt it long and hard against her stomach. She had never really felt one before. This man—the stranger with the soul melting eyes—she would love to peek at his good bits.

  Breena opened her eyes and glanced at him. His hair was feathered over them both and she brushed her finger through a few locks. She pushed them back, away from his handsome face to stare at his features. He looked rough like a warrior, a few lines around his mouth, probably from frowning. Those lips were plump though and his jaw chiseled. She found herself wondering about his kiss. Would it be gentle or intense like his eyes?

  “Iníon?”

  Oh yes, that just made everything so much worse. Gran’s voice echoed through the house and the wave of cold air accompanied the closing of the front door.

  “I forgot to tell you about...Iníon? Where are you?”

  She banged her head against the floor. It couldn’t have been a neighbor or a robber or even God himself at this point. Anybody would be better to walk through that door than her Gran. Of course, she had that sort of crappy luck and a gasp echoed.

  “What is going on in here!” her tone switched to panic. “Get off her. I’ll kill you. Get off of me baby!”

  “Gran!” Breena yelled as Gran swung a closed umbrella at the unconscious man atop her. Gran’s sight lacked and she missed them all together. She lost her balanced and landed on her rear beside them. Her weapon slammed into the chair. The leg splintered and the bowl of broth landed right in her face. Breena sputtered, coughed and struggled against the dead weight to no avail. Then Gran’s giggle broke the steady drip of broth from her head to the floor. Now that she was laughing and broth had drenched her head, she prayed that he hadn’t woken up. She took a deep breath and glared down. No, thank God, his eyes were still closed. Seeing her like this would have ruined the whole trying to be sexy thing.

  “You have the worst luck, Iníon.” Gran stated the fact as her laughter died down.

  “Don’t I know it.”

  It took nearly half an hour and help from their neighbor before he was once again on the bed. They simply broke the other side so it was somewhat even. The thing was still broken but at least it no longer tossed him to the floor. Breena finished lifting his heavy legs onto the mattress before she stood and went for a shower. She needed one now that there was broth in her hair and her forearms ached. With a frustrated growl she grabbed a new sweater and another pair of jeans. She stuffed black panties and a black bra in the bundle. Rolled them up and locked herself in the bathroom.

  ****

  They had seen him, Thame’s thoughts were fuzzy but that single one was loud and clear. Someone had seen him. He wasn’t alone on the side of the road, the trolls hadn’t found him, and t
he woman who tried save him had the deep gray eyes of true beauty. There was no way to forget the feel of that warm flesh beneath him or that pretty face staring up. She had these wide eyes and small facial features, her black hair was such a contrast to her pale skin. Who was she? His mind searched for an answer and came up with a name. Yes, that’s right she said her name, Breena, Fairy Palace in Irish. This meant there was a good chance he was still in Ireland.

  He willed his weak muscles to move, but they refused. Even his lids wouldn’t part to reveal a slither of that warm sunlight that drenched him. The stitches pulled and made his back ache like flames licking at his skin. The image of his wings flashed before him, but they were gone now. Who knew what color would replace them? The trauma could turn them a shade lighter, darker or give him a red tint. He was rather fond of their golden tones but at least they would grow back. He felt the bone still there, the area stung immensely but that meant it remained intact.

  His wings would one day grow and sore him into the sky. That thought alone, the knowledge he was not permanently handicapped was such a relief he wanted to sigh. Being unable to move, he could do no such thing.

  His mind shifted to the fairy kingdom. The others would no doubt be looking for him and it was highly unlikely they’d find him. He was their best tracker; therefore, it was up to him to fight this strong urge to sleep. There was no time to rest, he argued with himself, but his thoughts slipped further into a dark void. He had to get up and get to the king. What if the trolls attacked while he was gone? What if one of them was injured or taken? He should be there beside them, helping. Not in a bed unable to defend his own back. Darkness slipped passed his control and the thoughts faded. Sleep captured his strong will.

  There was no way to tell how long he’d slept. It must have been hours, as the sun no longer warmed his skin. His back felt better, the jabbing knife pain had faded to a thousand bee stings. Maybe this time his eyes would obey and he would get to see those beautiful gray eyes. They haunted his dreams, along with a sweet, willing mouth. The fantasy had changed, it was usually a beautiful fairy tied to a sunflower and teased until they were both consumed with passion. This dream, the woman was the same dark haired female that saved him. Thame concentrated slowly on his eyelids, forcing them to open and wishing she was before him. Since he was wishing, he would like her to be naked, too. He wanted to see those hard nipples that had pressed into his chest.

  Thame’s eyes opened, the blurred image revealed nothing but smears of color and the feel of a soft cushion beneath him. Where was she? What happened to Breena?

  “Ah, so he finally wakes.”

  A gravely female voice spoke softly, and he shifted his eyes to see the figure that approached. This was definitely not his mystery woman. This one was older, she walked with a slight hunch or maybe it was his angle. His vision still did not return to normal even as the woman bent and placed her face inches from his. “Breena?” Where had the other one gone? He craved her voice. What would Breena look like laughing? Would her eyes light up? Would she ever smile at him? The older woman leaned closer. He focused on her wrinkled skin and the way her lips pressed together in a frown.

  “I know what you are...” she whispered.

  Thame felt a distinct shiver down his spine. He was defenseless as a baby and her eyes were malicious toward him.

  “Fairy...” she spit the word out like a disease. “The fact that me Iníon can see you...” She shook her head, the rage evaporated and concern saturated her features. “Don’t you dare crush her heart. Do you hear me? She’s all I have left, and I will not let you hurt her. She’s me angel. Not literally an angel but a sweet, good, innocent girl.”

  How did this woman know about fairies? Who was she? He wanted to speak, to ask questions and demand answers, but his lips would not move. The colors began to blur again, the image of the woman fading in and out of his vision. Darkness began to sweep through and his eyelids became too arduous to hold up.

  “Heed me words, fairy, or you will pay for every tear she sheds with a slice to your manhood.”

  The words echoed, whispered, then Thame grit his teeth as he fell back into sleep.

  Chapter Three

  His sleep did not last long. By the time the warm wash of sun rushed over his skin he opened his eyes. He wasn’t alone, and this time it wasn’t the threatening human but his gray eyed girl. She was pretty from behind, a mass of black hair tucked into a bun. A curvy ass called to his hands, and her hips made his mouth water. He could easily hold them still while he pumped inside her.

  Why had his libido suddenly burst into action? He hadn’t seen a human female until recently and that was Queen Brook. Thame held his breath. Maybe this one was his. He opened his lips; wet them with his tongue before forcing his voice box to work. “Breena?” Was that scratchy voice his?

  She jerked, startled and his dinner in her hands flew to the floor. Glass shattered around her feet, some hot liquid splashed at her legs and she turned around muttering.

  “Shite, why does food always fall on me?”

  Her eyes shifted on his open ones. She was more beautiful then he remembered. Her breasts were surely a gift from the Goddess, they loomed over a flat stomach and her lips curved into a nervous smile.

  “Hi...”

  The word slipped between her plump lips. She seemed to freeze in place. Was she afraid of him? Did she know what he was? Thame shifted and gasped in pain.

  “Don’t move!” She rushed to his side and knelt beside him. “Your back is messed up...”

  That was right. Those fucking Trolls took his wings. Wait, how did the old woman know what he was?

  “I’ve been cleaning it up, but it’ll take time to heal.”

  “Thank you.” he murmured and lost himself in her gaze. “Breena...” he tried her name once more, the way it sounded as it rolled from his cords, was erotic. Hopefully, she’d hear it the same way.

  “Yes?”

  His cock was rock hard beneath his body and he wanted to shift, to decrease the space between them. That’s when his ankle screamed at the movement. He closed his eyes, slammed a fist into the rickety bed and focused on his breath. “Apparently my ankle is...messed up as well.” He used her words, but when he glanced back she was standing. Had he frightened her? “I’m sorry...” His words began to slur, his throat dry with lack of use. What happen to his sensual whispers? He wanted to sweet talk her right into a mouth-watering kiss. Then his thoughts cleared and his mind shifted to reality. It didn’t matter if he wanted to kiss her. With all the life left in his body, he wanted to back her to a wall and make love to her mouth. That did not mean she wanted to touch him, or the fact that he was still a fairy and she a human. His need for this woman did not change the fact that the fairy kingdom was short one warrior and still on the verge of extinction.

  “What’s wrong with your ankle?” Her voice broke into his thoughts.

  “I believe a bone is fractured...” he spoke softly, slowly as not to spook her again. It must have worked because she shifted closer and knelt at the foot of the bed. Her hands were delicate and warm as they pressed the quilt away from his bare legs and lay on his skin.

  He suppressed a groan, the last time a woman had touch him was nearly a hundred years ago and only once before had he bothered with a human. She pressed into the swollen ankle. Why did she affect him so? He wasn’t a fan of humans, despite liking their human queen. After witnessing the aftermath of Keyn’s torture by the species, he refused to bed a female of the breed, but Breena was different. She made his heart race and his body burn with desire. Her touch was gentle and kind.

  “It does look broken...”

  He glanced over to see her frown and the slight nibble of her bottom lip. She seemed to nod to herself before standing and returning to the shattered remnants of what smelt like broth. Her hands disappeared into a bundle of cloth that lay on a wooden chair and lifted with clean ace bandage.

  “This will have to do until Gran returns.”


  He grunted as she slipped the thin brown cloth over his swollen lump of an ankle and tightly wrapped it around. The pain was slight, a sting of a blade tip was worse than her small fingers teasing his sore flesh. “Thank you...” he spoke in a whisper and tilted to better see her. “... for saving me.” She nodded and focused more intently on his ankle. Most women would swoon and stare at his golden hair or...he frowned, he no longer had those big, golden wings. “Where are we?” He needed to return to the kingdom.

  “Ireland...” she spoke as she finished with his ankle.

  Thank the Goddess; the trolls hadn’t dragged him off to Scotland or some other distant shore. He could be close to home, indeed.

  “You’re on the Aran Islands, Inis Mór .”

  “What? How did I get here?” They had taken him to another shore, the damn islands on the west coast. His forehead fell forward and sunk into the white pillow beneath his head.

  “You don’t remember?” Breena stood and rubbed her palms on her thighs.

  It made Thame aware of how close she stood. Blue trousers hugged the V in her thighs and his thoughts went right to her core. How hot would she be? How sweet would she taste? What was wrong with him? He should be thinking of the King and Queen, not some human woman. “I need to return home, I need to go back...”

  A dark figure filled the doorway. “You be going nowhere until you heal.” The old woman that threatened his dick now stood with a scowl on her face and her eyes on his exposed legs.