Ruined

by Rebecca Grey

  My body shook, horror pumping through me. This was all unfolding before me, but there was nothing I could do that would stop it from happening. The bitter cold grip of panic held me in place. I couldn’t be alone here, not without him. All these thoughts streaked across my mind. I’d lost my parents, my sister, and now my best friend. There would be no one else for me.

  I set the wine bottle down between the waiting fae. Their faces all plastered with happy little grins and bemused wonderment. It was nothing for them to take from others. They didn’t care that we had feelings, or needs, or wants. We were nothing but an accomplishment to them. A task to be ticked off their list of to-dos that would keep them highest on the food chain.

  I took a step forward. Then another. Before my foot hit the ground a third time a hand wrapped around my wrist. Part of me expected to turn and look into the face of a keeper. A bigger part of me wished that it was.

  “What are you doing?” Dace cocked his head to the side, a cocky grin making heat rush to my cheeks, in the worst way. I started to fight back against his warm grasp but his strength was unyielding. An aching cold feeling of helplessness settled within me.

  “I haven't got my fill of wine,” he purred.

  “I hope you choke on your wine.” I attempted to yank my hand free once more and stumbled forward and Dace let go with a laugh.

  I was going to get to my friend or I would die trying. If they were going to take him, they were going to take me too. We were a package deal. They weren’t leaving me here, they weren’t going to break my best friend.

  “Dae!” I shouted, pushing past fae who had stood and leaned around each other to watch the nymph who were selected struggle and cry. Some looked back to see who had shouted, others gasped in horror as they noticed a nymph hurtling by them. The noise was drowned out by others laughing as my fellow nymph servants were forced forward.

  Daethian turned red, pushing against the fae’s mighty strength. His dark brow scrunching as his face twisted in anger. I had to let him know he wouldn’t ever be alone, I would always find my way back to him just as he would do for me. Who else would be the voice of reason in my life? Who else would talk me off the ledge of crazy that my mind had become?

  Everything felt like ice. Cold, hard denial rampant in my mind. Sooner than I could have imagined, faster than I could get to him, my best friend was falling to his knees before Ganglin. Guards held his head down as he knelt.

  “Good King Windre, we would like to offer these three to you.” Ganglin beamed like a child presenting their artwork.

  What felt like a wall of fae finally broke apart as I lunged into the clearing before the royal table. Several pairs of eyes fell to me. There was an uncertainness that hadn’t been there before now that I could feel the severity of their distaste for my actions.

  “I didn’t call for any wine.” Ganglin frowned. “Aren’t you the annoying wine girl?”

  “Is she?” Ottack squinted. “These nymphs, they all look the same.”

  Keepers quickly shuffled to my sides and began tugging me back. I locked eyes with Daethian, warning shining in his gaze. Stop while you’re ahead, Ryker. That’s what he would say.

  “Take me!” I shout.

  Windre stood with his long braid swinging down his back, prowling across the floor as if he truly was an animal. His eyes looked over those being offered then shifted to me.

  “What of the girl, the loud one?” He tilted his head, his eyes catching mine for a second as he turned to face Ganglin.

  Ganglin cleared his throat in a hearty laugh. “She is but a woman.”

  But a woman. Those words rang in my ears. I would show him what a woman I was. Bitterly, I spat as far as I could in his direction. There wasn’t a way it could reach him but it made my point.

  Windre raised an eyebrow while he watched Ganglin give me a petty smile. “One we feel we can handle.” Ganglin walked forward, his polished boots clicking against the floor with each step. He leaned down to match my height. “We aren’t taking volunteers.”

  Chuckles erupted behind us from the waiting crowd.

  Ganglin continued, “And I think I’ll take this pretty one to warm my bed tonight. Maybe use that little mouth of hers to teach her a lesson in talking out of turn.”

  Proud. He looked so proud of his declaration.

  I swore I saw horror flash through Windre’s eyes before the collected cruelty settled back into place and his jaw tightened. Dae was struggling to stand, near thrashing in the arms of the guards.

  “Ryker, stay out of this.” Daethian groaned.

  “Oh, shut up you mule.” Ganglin stomped over to Daethian, pushing the back of his head back down as Ganglin brought his knee into his face. I could hear the crack echo across the room and the drip of blood as it ran from his broken nose.

  “May I request that I do the honors?” The overly confident tone emerged from behind me.

  “Prince Dace,” Princess Maggie says, dragging his name out. “It seems to me like you’ve become infatuated with the girl.”

  “Not infatuated. More like mildly entertained by her wicked tongue.” Dace tisked, strolling to stand beside me, waving off the guards with a scowl.

  My fingers skim over the places the keepers held on to me, bruises already taking form on my arms. “I won't go with you willingly.”

  Dace’s brief laugh was sinful. His manicured nails dug into my cheeks as he pulled my ear to his lips. “If you have a better plan I’d love to hear it but I’m afraid we are running out of time. I suggest if you wish to stay out of his meaty grasp you play your part and give me a good slap upon my cheek and look horrified by this conversation. Make it hurt, love.”

  My heart stuttered. The swiftness of my body taking control before my mind could even stop to question it. I pulled away from Dace’s touch, my hand stinging as it made contact with his cheek. I didn’t hold back. I let every ounce of my fear, anger, and regret fuel the action.

  In a blur of movement, Dace took both my arms, pinning them behind me with one hand. With his free hands he lifted my chin and trailed his nose along the tendon in my neck as he spoke. “Ganglin, what a gift it would be for you to give me this girl. Just for the night. Tomorrow she’ll be too raw to walk much less raise her hand.”

  “A man after my own heart, I see.” Ganglin mused, raising his glass. “A gift for your court, I suppose. I’ll choose another.”

  Dace inhaled quickly. Slowly, he righted himself though he kept my hands secured behind my back and his gaze trained on the Heathern Court King who strolled among the servants. His touch was firm but not painful. Every inch of my skin covered with goosebumps, repulsion asking me to yank myself free though my brain told me it wasn’t possible.

  Daethian hung between the guards, blood dripping from his face, and he still managed to look something fierce. He bared his teeth at the prince, spitting blood across the once white tile.

  “It’s like he is shopping in the market,” Dace murmured before he caught Daethian’s gaze and shrugged. “Looks like your boy toy is mad.”

  “Don’t call him that!” I snap staring straight into his crystal blue eyes.

  “Listen, girls like you aren’t with guys like him. You play with them until they fall in love with you then you break their hearts.”

  Girls like me. He didn’t even know me.

  “You don’t know anything about him. Or me.”

  Dace opened his mouth to talk but Ottack grumbled about how his head hurt when nymphs talked too much. The prince rolled his eyes and pursed his lips.

  Ganglin strolled back to the center of the room, holding the hand of a shaking nymph girl. “This marks the end of our evening. I hope you have all enjoyed yourself. Please, feel free to take of my servants as you need for your evening and if you wish, the party may continue in your own quarters. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading to mine.”

  With the nymph in tow Ganglin turned down a dark hallway. The girl stuttered at his side, crying the word
“no '' over and over and over again. Her frightened cry bounced off the hallway walls and resounded in my ears. So did the maniacal laugh from the king that followed.

  Princess Maggie rose from her seat. “Dace will you be continuing this in your quarters this evening?”

  Dace smiled without apology and held up my hand. “Just a party of two tonight.”

  Ganglin had released me to the prince, passed me off like any other unwanted possessions. Such a simple gesture between the fae men, passing around the nymph as if we were nothing.

  So there I stood, shattered into a million pieces knowing how my night would end. This innocence I carried wouldn’t be mine for much longer even though I wanted to cling to it. My soul recoiled from my body, everything became a blur. Every sound was muted and my limbs hung numb at my side. I don’t know how I went from the grand hall to Dace’s personal chambers, or where they ended up dragging my friend away to.

  Everything was shutting down. My only hope was that the shadows of my mind would consume me enough that I would feel nothing.

  SEVEN

  Milo

  “Raise your glasses, boys. Tonight we make you men and tomorrow the training begins.” Marcus grinned, the bruise I gave him earlier bright blue against his pale arm as he lifted the large cup of ale.

  Amongst the few men that had lasted round after round during the try out, I stood with a frown. I had wanted to see a large white castle, fancy bushes carved into unnatural designs, and paintings of stuffy old royalty. Instead I was here. In a muggy cavern that smelled more like piss than the self proclaimed gourmet food they served.

  As a group we looked mildly alarming. Rowdy men who carried a lot of muscle, beaten black and blue, though the marks were already healing. I supposed I fell into that category too. Other roughneck patrons gave us a wide berth as they walked around us.

  There hadn’t been many who had survived the test but the few who had were eager to drink away their pain, celebrate their victory, or even feel as if they were a part of something greater. I was none of these. I just wanted a nap.

  Check off step one of my still forming plan. After being selected as part of the guard, I had expectations. Like gaining access to the castle, for example. Apparently, the castle wasn’t the first place we went to. No, instead I stood in this grimy tavern, with these men I didn’t even like, holding this liquid ‘ale’ as they called it. I didn’t want to seem like the man who came from an entirely different realm, but what the dreet was I holding? It smelled musty and looked like urine. Maybe it was.

  Following the others, I lifted my glass to toast. Something I was familiar with, we raised our glasses to our queen at our meals so this must be something similar. Each man in turn began to take long gulping drinks. The cool metal of the cup touched my lips and I dreaded the idea of tasting the yellowed brew. Bubbles fizzed to the surface slowly as the drink tilted.

  Trying new things was hard. What if it killed me? What if it happened to kill people from another realm? Mentally, I was rolling my eyes at myself, if anyone else was saying this I would tell them to shut up and deal with it. New made me nervous. I’d rather be in my dungeon torturing people for information.

  With little excitement, I let the liquid flow into my mouth. I was torn between chugging it in hopes of not tasting it or letting it slosh around first so I knew what I was getting into. I chose the latter, and regretted it. This was utter shit. Who would drink this? I swallowed and tried to blank my face from the look of disgust that I wanted to show. I had to be one of these men of course. These men liked yellow ale.

  It was a children’s game of follow the leader. Yet, I was determined to be the winner, my life and my mission would depend on it.

  They cheered, I cheered.

  They asked for another drink, I downed mine and asked for more.

  “You did real well out there today,” Marcus slurred, handing me a new cup with a lazy grin on his face.

  “Thank you. It’s been a dream of mine to work for the king,” I responded. Had I always wanted to work for the king? No, I’m just here to make money while I form my plan to get around doing what my queen wants. What did she want, again? Thoughts became sluggish and unconnected inside my brain the more I drank.

  Dreets above, I didn’t want another glass of this. Though, I’ll admit it was getting easier to drink as I got used to the taste and my body felt looser and more relaxed.

  “Well, congratulations on finally making it then.” Marcus lifted his glass. “Cheers.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high, you will probably be assigned to be a keeper and watch the nymphs work, you won't be a part of the king’s personal entourage.” Collin, one of the men I had defeated earlier, interjected. He looked young, no older than seventeen, yet here he was devoting his life to their king. Something in me wished I was given a chance to live for seventeen years before tying myself to my queen. Eight years was not enough time to be a child.

  “Wow, yes, really living the dream I suppose.” My voice was dull and bored. I really struggled not to roll my eyes. Collin was just so...happy. Happy people kind of sucked.

  “Iron, here, has been trying to get onto the king’s guard for years now and hasn’t made it. Have you?” Marcus slapped his hand across the back of his peer who was chatting next to us, turning him toward our conversation.

  “Shut up, Marcus.” Iron frowned. Without his helmet on it was clear to see a long scar that ran across his scalp from ear to ear. I wondered how such a wound was inflicted and how it was possible he survived it. This realm must have powerful healers.

  “Is it that hard to get onto the king’s guard?” I tried to break the tension. Nothing like a bunch of muscled warriors drinking and getting angry. There was little want within me to break up a brawl.

  “He only selects the finest men. Men that he fully trusts to do his bidding,” Collin said with a nod.

  “Yeah, and with all the back and forth with the Heathern Court there is something brewing. I can feel it.” Marcus held out his arm as if to show us his goosebumps. It was too hot in the bar for goosebumps.

  “You can feel that, huh? Just like you felt up that servant last weekend?” Iron said bitterly.

  “Oh, a pretty gal? Or was she one of those dusty old maids?” Collin leaned forward suddenly much more interested in the conversation. Young, dumb, and searching for love, I guessed.

  “Man, actually.” Iron gave Marcus a pointed look.

  “What?” Collin practically gasped.

  “Eh, you like what you like. How about you Milo? Anyone special in your life?” Marcus shrugged, apathetic.

  “I was previously engaged but we called it off.” The moment I said it I wished I hadn’t. I tried not to let my thoughts drift to Eydis too often. I loved her, I really did. I wanted to be the one for her. But she clearly loved someone else. I wanted her to have everything. Everything she could ever want and if she wanted someone who wasn’t me then so be it. I wasn’t about to spend my life with someone who was only half present.

  My heart ached. Love was overrated and when it ended it didn’t really end. No, it ate away at the rest of your soul reminding you of the gaping hole in your chest.

  “That's depressing.” Collin hugged his drink to his chest.

  “I’ll drink to that.” Marcus raised his glass, clinking it against Collin’s.

  “Good luck finding a girl around here. They are all prudes.” Iron drank deeply from his flask following Marcus’s raised glass.

  “And that is code for Iron has no game. The women run from him.” Marcus laughed loudly, wiggling two of his fingers as if they were running away.

  “I’m not looking to find a woman,” I managed.

  “If you ask me–” Collin started.

  “No one asked you.” Iron stared blankly ahead, not even looking at the kid in the face. Iron was a real piece of work. I was starting to figure that out.

  “Now Iron, let the boy speak.” Marcus swatted at his friend.


  “If you ask me,” Collin said again. “Women just need to be wooed. Give them attention, make them feel special, buy ‘em some flowers. You know, the unimportant shit.”

  “Yeah, do that and watch ‘em laugh in your face.” Iron pointed at Collin.

  “No, no, Collin is onto something. Women like that kind of stuff.” Marcus smacked Iron’s finger out of Collin’s face.

  “Okay, you don’t even like women so why do you get any input here?” Iron turned back toward Marcus, spilling his drink as he did.

  “Milo, what do you think? How do we go about it?” Collin ignored Iron’s rude comment.

  “Getting a woman?” I paused thinking. “Luck.”

  “Now, I can drink to that.” Iron’s cup crashed into mine tossing some of the liquid onto the already coated floorboards.

  “Stop, we can’t let them get too numb.” Marcus set his glass down against the bar. He looked back wiggling his eyebrows. “It’s finally initiation time. If we wait any longer it will do them no good.”

  Then he climbed up a barstool and onto the counter kicking over other glasses. He grabbed his drink raising it high above him, his pail features washing out even further under the lights of the bar. “Recruits! Line up you swine!”

  The guards already on staff hollered and whooped loudly as all of the men who made it through formed an orderly line facing the long counter under Marcus’ boots. I stood next to Collin trying to fathom what was next. What was an initiation? We did not use that term.

  “Iron, pass out the pins!” Marcus yelled and his men stomped their feet clapping obnoxiously. The beat vibrated through the souls of my boots, the noise an eerie warning.

  Iron, smiling for the first time since I’d seen the guy, began placing small metal pieces in each of the new recruits hands. When he finally got to me I saw it was an emblem with a sharp stick and a small metal looking cork on the back. A pin as Marcus called it.