Page 55 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Worried you’ll get in another little tiff?”

With a feathering jaw, he sighed. “My father fought long and hard to restore peace to Saoghal. His methods for keeping it that way… differ from mine.”

Half of a potato was in my mouth, but I spoke around it. “What, like you want to take action and he wants to remain ignorant?”

“Watch it, Olivia,” he snarled. “You know nothing of our people.”

“I know enough to see that you are right, but you’re too afraid to stand up to him.”

As his nostrils flared, I shrugged and plopped the second half of my steamed potato into my mouth.

“I don’t need to prove myself to you.”

“Okay.” I shrugged again, this time going to a piece of scorched steak.

“I don’t.”

“Okay,” I grumbled.

Raegan muttered some sharp curse beneath his breath and shot upright, his chair toppling backwards from the mere momentum. I nearly choked on my food.

The table went deathly silent as all eyes turned to him. But my focus was on the King, who had a warning and a threat behind his eyes all at once.

Raegan cleared his throat, looking for the first time as if he was nervous. No one breathed as they awaited his words.

“I wish to meet with you all, first thing tomorrow morning.”

I actually heard King Ronan growl, just as the others all craned their necks curiously.

“I will not ail our evening with such talk tonight, but your attendance is mandatory for breakfast tomorrow.”

Without waiting for an answer, Raegan dropped back down into his seat and hung his head, eager to avoid the piercing glare from King Ronan.

It was possible that of them all, I was the most rigid. My light taunting of him was not supposed to generate any sort of action on Raegan’s part. Niamh, on the other side of Raegan, patted his back.

It felt wrong not to say something to him, so I did. “That was brave.”

Two dark eyes peered at me from beneath shadowed eyebrows. “I didn’t do it because of you.”

“I know.”

Swallowing, he let the conversation die at that, instead turning to Niamh and asking her how she liked the food.

The evening carried on, quiet and tame save for the murderous glare that the King continuously tossed in Raegan’s direction. Laughter rippled across the room as people ate until their stomachs threatened combustion, music ebbed and flowed across the ceiling, and for a few hours it was easy to forget what danger was creeping through Saoghal.

That was, until a young pixie burst through the throne-room door, stumbling his way to the table where he slammed to a halt at Raegan’s side. He leant forward, bringing his lips as close as he dared to the ear of Raegan’s that was closest to me, and muttered four words.

Four words that I knew, deep in my heart, would change the course of this conflict.

“The dragons were attacked.”

20

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“Raegan, would you slow down!” Killian roared as he, along with Niamh and I, shot out of the castle. No matter how quickly we walked, how long our strides were, Raegan was out-pacing us two-to-one. Somewhere along the way Niamh had retrieved a bow and a quiver, sliding them over her gown as she trotted at my side to keep up with the two males.

“You all should stay here,” Raegan finally snarled as he refused to look at us.