Page 20 of Where Broken Wings Fly

He shook his head a few times, looking anywhere but my face. “This isn’t a game, Olivia. If the Rachainn are truly behind this, then… It’s not safe here anymore.”

“It was never safe here, you made that much clear by being my guard-dog at every turn.” It was supposed to be a joke, but neither one of us laughed. “I don’t want to leave. Please. Let me help.”

What wasn’t supposed to be a joke, made Killian laugh. “Help? Do you have any notable fighting skills I wasn’t aware of?”

“Well, no, but–”

“Have you ever even wielded a weapon?”

“I’ve shot some arrows before.” That wasn’t a lie. Charlotte had forced me to an archery range for one of her birthdays. If I wasn’t mistaken, we were fifteen. But he didn’t need to know it was a decade ago.

Killian almost looked impressed as he cocked a bow. “Did these arrows actually hit anything?”

I bit down on my lip.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Please, Killian. Please don’t send me back.”

His body approached mine in one large movement. “You could die.”

“I was dying when you found me.”

He frowned at me, a hurt in his eyes that wasn’t meant for him but for me. With a gentle hand he pushed some of my disturbed hair back, his fingertips grazing against the rounded tips of my ears before he pulled away. “I won’t be able to guarantee your safety.”

“Okay.”

We held the unwavering gaze back-and-forth, until he finally sighed and followed it up with a grin. “You are a strange female.”

“Thanks.” I tried my best to match that intense, unbridled grin that he constantly wore like he was born that way.

My adventure of a lifetime was no longer a dream. I refused to believe it was for a second longer. While that was a good thing, it meant that I had something to lose. Because for the first time in years, I started to see the light.

9

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The next morning, Killian spent the better part of several minutes lacing me into my own leather chest-plate, greaves, and vambraces.

“I look ridiculous,” I huffed, blowing some of my unkempt hair from my eyes.

Killian placed a hand on my shoulder and winked. “You look pixie.”

I didn’t have enough time to hide my shy smile and blushed cheeks before he nodded his head in the direction of the castle doors.

“Where are we going?” Trotting to keep up with his monstrously long legs, I took a moment to glance out at the world beyond as we passed the threshold of the castle doors. Pixies had been busy all night long by the looks of the lands that the castle towered over. There was hardly a hint of last-night's slaughter in sight. Instead, a shadowed sun bore down on Choilltean, drizzling every inch in a hue so golden I had to bring my forearm up to my brows to block out the light. Fireflies flickered from side to side on the path we walked, illuminating the faint specks of wood-dust that floated down from the heavens.

“Well,” Killian grunted as he leapt over a branch-wall, turning to offer me his hand. Taking it, he heaved me up and over the wall only to grin once I was upright again. “I’ve got something cool to show you. Then, something less cool.”

“Ominous.”

“In another life, perhaps that was my name.”

Matching his childish joy, I skipped alongside him as he led us away from the village, down compacted mulch pathways.

“What is your name?”

“Killian.”