Fay Warrior, Fay Master

Chapter Thirteen

Fay Warrior, Fay Master
Chapter Thirteen

Ronan had completed his task with enough wood to last for a few days. He had decided to tell Willa about his secret. It was especially safe to tell her since they were now bound. Happily, he finished loading the wood and sheathed his axe as he mounted the horse to pull the load.

It would not take long for the change to happen. The Old Crone that Willa had mentioned had been a long-time family friend. She had always been there for him and his family, even during the upheaval. He had been but a youngling but clearly remembered how she had saved him. She had not been able to save his family.

Ronan’s countenance darkened in memory. She had saved him from his cousin by turning him. So his cousin had never known. He thought that Ronan had also perished in the raid. Willa was the key to his redemption and rise to the throne. The Old Crone had secretly taken care of him for years afterward until he was able to care for himself. She had kept him updated on the latest news…kept him updated concerning Willa.

The horse stumbled a bit but Ronan paid no heed. His mind lay elsewhere. It lay upon his mate. He remembered seeing her when a young Fay. She was younger than him and had little interest in courtships. She had definitely been too young for seed bonding. No wonder she had no clue as to his identity. But now it was time. He had loved her for years, wanted her for years but felt unsure as to how to accomplish this. It was not until the old woman had happened upon the old legend that hope had filled him once again. It was true. She had changed him into a human through one desperate act of love but she could not turn him back.

He must seed a faerie woman to change and who better to seed than his Willa? Who else could compare as she…so caring as she…so warm hearted as she…so trusting? Of course, their unity could merge the houses. This fact was not lost upon him but only presented itself as a bonus. He smiled at how she had so easily and unknowingly followed his lead. But his intentions were finite and honorable. She had now been mated to him. Would she not be surprised and joyous to discover that her husband was not human after all?

He had planned for so long, hoped for so long that the opportunity would arise. The Old Crone had done him a great service. One not so easily forgotten. So nothing had happened by chance. Even when Willa had ‘caught’ him bathing it had not been by chance. He meant to seduce her, bring her to him. The only mishap of chance had been Barridean’s loathsome appearance.

Suddenly, a fiery sharp pain shot through his body. “Lead me home, old boy,” he whispered to the horse as he leaned forward oblivious now to all else but the pain. If the legend proved true, he would be his old self again…able to challenge Barridean and rightly take back what belonged to him. But he must come clean with Willa before the change neared completion. He must make her understand the entire circumstances. Surely, she would understand.

Soon the cottage appeared in the distance and he urged the horse on. The pain overwhelmed him in waves but he must tell her now. He dismounted then burst through the door calling out her name. “Willa! Willa! There is something that we must discuss.” He doubled over in pain and caught his breath as he listened for her response. The house remained quiet.

“Willa,” he called again making his way toward the table. Still no reply. He searched about the cottage calling out to her then realized she was not there. She had promised to stay but she had gone!! At first, anger filled him until he spotted the table. Unmistakable little red spots dotted the surface and the cage he had crafted specifically for her, had gone! He rubbed his finger across a sticky red spot realizing with terror that it was blood! What had happened?! The agonizing pain hit him again as he lurched across the table. There had been a struggle but no signs upon the legs of the table or the floor.

Obviously, she had been taken and by air! But had she been harmed? Whose blood splattered the table? “Barridean!” he hissed as he lunged purposefully toward the wood chest. Quickly, he removed the key from his pocket and opened it. He grabbed some items from the corner then slammed it shut as he fell to the floor writhing in agony. He curled into a tight ball and moaned. Somehow, the old crone had failed to mention the unparalleled searing pain he now excruciatingly felt. Suddenly, the door slammed open but he did not care to look. Even when he felt a comforting hand upon his head.

“Shhh…let it take you, my child,” whispered the familiar aged voice.

“They have taken her…they have taken Willa,” he gritted writhing in another direction.

“I know, I know,” replied The Old Crone soothingly. “But you cannot do anything until the change is complete. It will be then that you may return. For now, you must embrace the change and not fight against it. Your mate is depending on you, your child is depending on you, and your kingdom is depending on you.”

“Is she harmed? Is it her blood spilled upon my table,” he gritted in pain not from his change but from his heart. He had lived this long knowing he would make Willa his. He could not live without her.

“No. She is still safe. It is not her blood you see but the enemies’. She is, for the most part, unharmed. You will make haste in the morning but not for now.”

“What do you mean she is unharmed for the most part?”

“We will speak no further on this,” soothed The Old Crone cradling him like a babe.

“But I must save her,” he groaned as sweat beaded his forehead.

“This is not something you are capable of right now. Do not dwell on such things…,” she whispered as she waved a hand over his eyes and put him fast to sleep.


McKinzie S. Heart
~Live to write, write to live~