Shattered (Mists of the Fae Book 9)

by Jaime Marks

“Enough Narysia. I hear you. I will not leave you.” He rested his head against hers a moment before quickly pulling back to meet her eyes. “I don’t know that this is the right choice for you, but so help us both, I actually care what happens to you, and it is clear I cannot convince you to keep your distance even now.” He kissed her head tentatively before his voice and resolve hardened. “I won’t allow this to go unanswered, and if it’s in my power, I will never allow another to hurt you. I should have protected you better but I won’t make the same mistake twice. I do this only for you, Narysia.” He breathed deeply and stood facing them.

  Wycelion measured him with a nod. “It’s the right thing for you both, brother.”

  Wytheryn stared into Cymeryn’s eyes ignoring his brother’s comment. He waited, knowing the boy had to choose this on his own. There were seventeen years’ worth of lies, manipulations, and distrust in his head that he needed to wade through. Was a couple days’ worth of bonding enough to correct it?

  “Lord Cymeryn a Cymarcion, King of the Night Throne of Balance…” He hesitated a moment as if waiting again, but ultimately knelt before him. “Mine Grandsire…I pledge my allegiance to you and…mine line.”

  He nodded, noting the way he tensed. It was as if the boy expected to be struck down at any moment. There was a definitely relief and shock to him after a few moments of silence. Did he think Cymeryn would deny him favor for his previous actions? No matter, he would learn in time that he could trust them, although first he would have to prove himself.

  “I will accept your allegiance, Wytheryn, but after your actions I expect an act of concession from you. I require proof that you mean what you say and are not acting merely to obtain the means to avenge her.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked up at him. Byryn reformed beside them and Cymeryn rose a hand, pausing Wytheryn as he spoke. He needed Byryn here for what he had in mind regardless.

  “Both Felycia and her son are safe. I also checked in on Kyle’s brothers and the remainder of my own. Everyone’s secure. If it were me, I would hold until we left the realm for Mythos and Steph’s Bonding tomorrow. That is if they have any way out themselves.” Byryn shrugged, “The realm is still sealed and we intend to keep it that way for now.”

  He looked over his brother but said nothing. More than likely Kyle had been keeping him informed. They seemed to be all but sharing a mind these days. With the bonds between them it only made sense that they could commune so easily.

  After a moment Wytheryn looked up at him and asked through clenched teeth, “What concession would you ask of me…Grandsire?” It was clear it was difficult for him to offer such respect, though it was not quite clear as to why. He would assume it was his smug arrogance but he almost got the sense that something else was at play with the boy.

  Cymeryn grunted, wondering what they were missing but focused on the issue at hand. What he expected may well push him too far, but he would have his loyalty and he would ensure the boy did not die in his awakening. “We will continue this in my study. You may bring Narysia. Kyle, Byryn, you will join us. Wycelion I need you to ensure these boys are properly detained. Gavyn will join you in a moment.”

  He offered Wytheryn his hand and he rose, slowly measuring him, but he did not yet accept it. He put his own hand out towards the girl. “Come here, Narysia,” he commanded, but his eyes never left Cymeryn’s. The girl willingly complied and he wrapped her in his arms.

  “Before you mist her, shouldn’t we have a Healer assess her?” Byryn interrupted grabbing Cymeryn’s hand before he could touch them. “I realize there are matters to attend to, and I assume it wouldn’t be an issue, but we still don’t know enough about the extent of her injuries to risk moving her through the mist, especially with the realm sealed…”

  Cymeryn nodded rubbing his head. It was remiss of him not to have realized such things himself and could have been a grave error. They had no idea if the girl was injured, or how badly, and moving any Fae that had been injured through the thickened mist of this realm now that it was sealed would be ill advised. He had been slipping lately and it was unacceptable, but it was not something he could manage here, nor was it something he could allow them to know.

  “Thank you, Byryn. I am afraid I did not consider that. I suppose I am still a bit tired. It has been a long couple of days.”

  Wytheryn’s eyes popped as he held her tightly. “I…I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to ensure she was safe.”

  Byryn studied him a moment longer with a shrewd gaze, but shook his head and turned to face his brother, “You’re fine, Wytheryn. I know where your head was at and you aren’t even awakened yet to realize it would have been an issue. I understand it, but we should get her settled and have her attended to.”

  “No!” She cried burrowing into his chest. “No, please don’t leave me, Wytheryn. I don’t want them to touch me.”

  Wytheryn lifted her in his arms and shook his head. The pain in the boy’s eyes was touching. “I…I don’t know how to be this, Byryn. I cannot care for her the way she needs. I…” He looked down at her for a moment as if fighting himself. “She knows you, trusts you. She needs love and I only know how to hurt her. Please...”

  Byryn stopped him, placing his hand on his shoulder and for the first time the boy did not flinch. “First, you’ve done nothing but try to care for her since you met, Narysia. Even when you ignored her it was so that she wouldn’t be hurt either by you or your enemies. If all you knew how to offer her was pain, brother, you would have exploited this situation and taken whatever you desired from her. You didn’t.

  “Aside from that, since you’ve walked into this room you’ve done nothing but take care of her, even placing her above your own rage. I understand what you’re asking, and if I thought that was the best option for either of you, I’d gladly do it, but the truth is she didn’t move when I called for her. She only came to you. You are who she needs right now, not me. We’ll get her the care she needs, together.”

  Cymeryn nodded. “Take her to my study. I will have Sanytia meet us there and we will deal with the rest of this once we know she is well.”

  He watched as Byryn and Kyle led Wytheryn from the small room with Narysia in his arms. She was the key to saving that boy. It pained him that she had endured this, but it would bring them together and give him a reason to trust them. His awakening was too close not to pull him in. In truth, Cymeryn feared it would set in while they were in the Realm of Light. That was why he had to risk this. He had to push the boy for his own wellbeing.

  Chapter 4

  Wytheryn stared down at her as they walked. Was she really worth this? Byryn stood on his left walking beside him as if they were friends and his doppelganger, the former weakest son of his Master’s progeny on his right. Alayne would kill him just for being in their presence without trying to either reclaim Kyle or kill Byryn. He was amazed he was even still alive now if Tomas had marked him a traitor.

  Alayne knew the things Wytheryn knew. He knew what knowledge he’d absorbed over the years. If he suspected for even a moment that he was considering betraying him the consequences would be extreme. The things he’d endured at the Dark Priest’s hands…his Master.

  It wasn’t a title given out of respect or affection. It was one Alayne had earned in Wytheryn’s pain and blood. He’d taken him to the brink of death numerous times over the years, only to heal him and start again. He was filthy in the blood and depravity of the High Priest. He shouldn’t even be touching someone as pure as Narysia.

  He had tried to save her from this. She just would not keep her distance from him. As angry as he felt he should be with her over it, until this eve it had begun to amuse him. The girl was damned creative. There was no way to deny it. She had all but stalked him the last few days, finding the oddest reasons to talk to him, asking him questions that they both knew any unawakened Shade could answer. She would randomly pop up beside him, places he damned well knew she shouldn’t be. He could deny it, but the truth was he
looked forward to seeing her. He may have greeted her with annoyance and frustration, but he often smiled when he saw her or as she walked away. It was the highlight of his stay here.

  Wycelion had taken notice to it and tended to harass him slightly when he caught him looking for her or saw his smile. He never took it too far and seemed to look out for her. When Byryn had notified him of the attack he’d taken him to her directly. He couldn’t fault Byryn for not summoning him himself. Wytheryn hadn’t exactly given him a reason to trust him and he’d refused to acknowledge Narysia. There was no reason for him to even inform him of the attack.

  Byryn had come to him only yesterday asking if he wanted to spend more time with her or if he had something he’d like to discuss regarding her. He could’ve claimed Narysia then, could’ve requested his brothers look out for her at least. He knew Byryn would have done what he asked, or granted him the right to court her as they apparently called it. It was just so difficult for him to trust him or to even consider such things.

  This was not his life. They were not his friends, or his family, and he had no right to claim a female as his own. These things were privileges held by those who had rank, those who mattered. Wytheryn was no one. Claiming one such as Narysia was such an abstract concept to him that he had shut down even the slightest possibility in his mind, never once thinking it would have consequences for her.

  Now he was kicking himself for not putting her first. He knew others had noticed her interest in him. He knew his behavior was revealing her, but he’d taken for granted that not only was he nothing, having no rights to feel for any, but she was protected here. He had allowed his ignorance, arrogance, and pride to rule his judgment, preventing him from admitting the truth or asking anything of Byryn. He had ignored the fact that this was not the world he knew and it had cost her dearly.

  Was she worth this? The risks, the pain he’d be forced to endure if he was ever reclaimed by his Master? The torture it would be to watch what Alayne would do to her to punish him as he claimed her himself? Was she worth the trust and loyalty Cymeryn and Byryn would demand from him? The weakness opening himself to these emotions would cause? He already cared more than he should. Just the fact that those bastards had dared to touch her and what they’d intended to do tore him apart and he’d barely let her get close.

  Apparently it didn’t matter whether he claimed her or not. She was already in danger if Tomas and Vilyn had marked her. It was a double edged threat. What Tomas knew so did his brothers and Father. Vilyn’s knowledge meant the Brood knew. Even if the High Priest didn’t come for the girl, the Brood would, either to cure him of his weakness or to use her to reclaim him. To deny her was to sacrifice her. Regardless of his doubts, Wytheryn already knew it would destroy him if he walked away and she suffered so much as scratch because of her ties to him. That much had been proven to him tonight.

  Byryn opened the door to Cymeryn’s study. He had spent several hours here over the last couple weeks while his Grandsire had tried to convince him to open up to them, trust them. Why they cared so much and how Cymeryn had figured out the truth of his past he had no idea. He hadn’t even mentioned Alayne directly aside from the message he’d initially delivered, and the High Priest and the Brood had been working in conjunction at that point.

  “Here,” Kyle repositioned one of the pillows on the couch. “Lay her down so Sanytia can attend to her.”

  “No!” She shook her head profusely. “I…I don’t need a Healer. I’m fine! I swear! Please Wytheryn, please don’t make me see her.”

  He set her down on the couch and knelt before her. She couldn’t meet his eyes and she was trembling. “Why? What are you hiding, Narysia? What has you so frightened?”

  Fresh tears streamed down her face and it broke him in a way he couldn’t explain. He’d never felt like this. He didn’t even have the vocabulary to define it.

  “I…I can’t…I…” She was near hysterical.

  Instinct more than anything drove him as he gripped her jaw in a firm but gentle grasp and forced her eyes to meet his. “Enough, Narysia. Breathe…Deeper,” he commanded watching her as she took a breath. “Now, you are going to listen to me and actually hear me for once. This happened to you because of me, because of how you pursued me and my reactions to you. I’m sorry that I did not protect you better. I should have known simply ignoring you would never have been enough, but the damage is done.” Her eyes drifted and he shook her slightly. “Look at me, Narysia. It’s too late to hide. You wanted me and now you’ve got me whether you like what you see or not. I am the only one who knows how far this will go and exactly how much danger you’re in. I am the one who will protect you and care for you. Do you understand that? Nod if you do.”

  His words seemed to ease her in some way, which only proved how truly naive she was to all this. She nodded slowly and held his gaze. The tension in her body had relaxed somewhat and he gently brushed a hair from her face, still keeping hold of her chin. He didn’t understand his need to keep her connected to him in this way but it seemed to ground her.

  He sighed, trying to reason it all out in his head as he praised her, “Good girl. Now, tell me what you’re afraid the Healer will know.”

  She went to shake her head and her breathing immediately quickened, but he held her fast and his eyes bored into hers making her breath hitch. It satisfied some need in him to hold this control over her and he would use it to find out what he needed to know to help her. She went to draw away but he followed, not willing to bruise her, but he’d be damned if he released her until she told him. Style’s word played in his head suddenly and his eyes widened.

  “Byryn, I need a moment alone with her. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for you to trust I won’t hurt her and allow me to attend to this before the Healer sees her,” he stated plainly, not bothering to look at him. He kept his eyes locked with hers so she would know he wasn’t about to let her run.

  A moment of silence filled the room as he waited for their response, knowing that they were somehow intimately connected. Surprisingly it was Kyle who spoke, but Wytheryn knew one spoke for the other consistently. He’d been watching them, intrigued with the way they had somehow been bound and yet still remained equal.

  “We’ll give you a few minutes. We know you won’t hurt her, Wytheryn, you couldn’t if you tried,” he replied sounding almost amused. “But it won’t be long. There’s propriety to consider and the fact is that you’re technically an enemy to the throne until you rectify that situation. We grant you a lot of leeway, but this is pushing the boundary of what we can reasonably allow when you still profess to be a threat to us.”

  Byryn squeezed his shoulder in silence before they both stepped outside of the room. He sat quietly considering their choice of words and actions. It was something he’d need to process, but right now he had to see to the girl.

  “Narysia, it’s just you and me now. We’re alone. Will you show me what they did to you?” He requested trying his best to keep his voice calm and reassuring. “Show me what you’re afraid the Healer will see. I will not think any less of you, I promise, but I can only help you if you trust me.”

  Her hands wrapped her stomach protectively and her body shook as sobs rolled through it. He released her chin, pulling her into his arms. He didn’t know how to deal with this. They had broken something in this girl. She was so fragile, so shaken, and it made him want their blood even more. Where was her strength of will that allowed her to pursue him at every turn, defying his commands to stay away? Where was the Light the lit her eyes with such sweet purity that it made his heart ache for how he would corrupt her even to know her?

  “Shhh, you are stronger than this, Narysia, and I will help you see that. I promise you will get through this, but please…I know I am not worthy of you, but please, just let me help you,” he murmured into her hair. “My sweet, beautiful girl.”

  She nodded but her voice was a hoarse whisper. “My…my stomach.”

  He g
ently laid her back and breathed deeply, regaining his composure for what he needed to do. His hand shook as he rested it on her thigh at the hem of the thin, sheer gown that barely covered her.

  “Will…will you allow me to see it? Please,” he requested still struggling to keep his voice steady for her.

  The truth was, for all he’d done and endured over the years, he’d never seen a female nude let alone touched one. He’d had his fair share of sex, and he was far from a virgin, but it had never been with females of any race. Alayne had kept him very sheltered until he returned him to the Brood. He didn’t even know how to act around this girl, let alone handle this, but for her he would control himself and deal with it. She deserved at least that much from him.

  When she nodded he slowly raised her gown, biting back a hiss at the bruising on her thighs and her torn panties. He swallowed hard at how much of her was revealed, but focused on his outrage for what they had likely done to her. If they hadn’t sealed their fates simply by their threats, that combined with what he saw next was enough for him to kill them both. Etched into her skin, coated in dried blood were two words…SLAVE WHORE. It was as much a message as a promise, one he would be sure went unfulfilled.

  His hand shook but he thought better than to touch it. It should technically heal, but it was fairly deep and she was still human, not yet awakened to her Fae form. He was amazed it hadn’t bled enough to stain her gown, but that in itself sent fury through him. The only way such a wound wouldn’t have stained her gown was if the blood were dried before it was lowered. His eyes landed again on her shredded panties. No wonder the girl was so broken.

  “Na-Narysia,” he all but whispered, trying to steady his voice. “They…they raped you didn’t they?”

  Her whole body shook and she turned from him, covering herself with her hands.

  Wytheryn carefully turned her to face him. “Beautiful, please tell me the truth. I…I need to know what you’ve suffered so I know how I can help you. I…I know how that feels,” he admitted unable to look at her. “To have someone stronger than you overpower you and steal something they had no right to. I know what that does to you. If you hold that anger and pain inside, it will destroy who you are. You are too beautiful to sacrifice in such a way, Narysia. Please let me help you.”