Page 107 of Why Broken Wings Fray

So much of it.

So much blood that Raegan’s wings of ethereal, golden beauty were no more. They were dull in that space, appearing somewhat white, if it wasn’t for the blood that had splattered up and down, left and right, across them.

I didn’t understand. Not at first.

Not until Taran leaned into Raegan and snarled something in his ear. He gave him all of three seconds, counted aloud. Raegan said, and did, nothing. He only hung, his head heavy, his golden hair curtaining his face and hiding his expression from all.

By the time Taran hit three, I could do nothing. I was left standing, petrified and horrified, as Taran grabbed one of Raegan’s largest feathers and yanked.

Blood sprayed from the snapping and ripping of the shaft, the red liquid pulsing across the room and steaming as the heat of it contrasted the room.

Taran grinned as he watched that spray path, which meant that as he assessed the arch of the droplets, his gaze fell right on to me.

“Ah!” Taran beamed, tossing both of his bloody hands into the air. “There she is!”

My warpath of seething bloodlust started right there – determined to free Raegan from the torture and kill a fairy in the process – as I went to take off, to charge at him. Which was exactly what I would have done, had Rory not grabbed on to me from behind and restrained me.

“No!” I screamed, my voice thoroughly damaged. “Let me go, Rory!”

My voice awakened something in Raegan, causing him to lift his head. It was only an inch or so, enough for his hair to part and his blood-shot eyes to find me. The pain that flashed over them was a new sort of pain, more of a worried look, before the green slipped and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Come on,” Rory growled as he tried to wrestle me out of the room.

“No,” Taran said. “She can stay. She can watch. Pride might keep him from passing out.”

Raegan managed one word. It was jagged and rough, hardly audible at all. “Olivia.”

That was when I became truly wild. Thrashing and bucking against Rory, trying with all of my might, with every shred of strength, to free myself from his cruel hold. Again and again and again I writhed against him, my skin alive with a burning sensation wherever he had a hold on me.

“Please stop,” Rory begged as he continued to adjust and adjust and adjust.

Taran grabbed on to another one of those magnificent, glistening feathers and yanked.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The noise that tore from Raegan’s mouth shattered everything I was. As the blood began to flow eagerly to those torn sections, I felt a part of me die.

“Please, Rory!” I wailed, bucking against the hands of the guards holding me down. “Please!”

Rory didn’t look at me.

“Take the oath, Raegan,” Taran said, looking uninterested and almost bored as he rocked weight over his hip and sighed.

Raegan said nothing, keeping his head hung, his eyes shut.

“Take the oath and this will all be over. I’ll even throw in a sweetener and promise not to hurt her–” Taran looked wicked as he pointed at me, his lips curled into a cruel smile. “Not too much, anyway.”

I hated that Raegan was letting Taran get to him, because he let out a damning noise even though the rest of him remained still. His chest was rising and falling far too fast, sweat continuing to fall fast and true across his body, causing him to glisten beneath the light. But not as he usually glistened, with regality and radiance, but with a slick painting of pain.

“Going once,” Taran purred. “Going twice?” He sighed and rolled his shoulders backwards, cracking his neck as he stepped towards Raegan. “Pity.”

I watched as Taran let out a beastly snarl and grabbed onto the next feather on Raegan’s wings. I saw true, indisputable fear tear open the King’s eyes, something I rarely saw across his face. And the cry that fell from his lips as that feather was torn from him cracked another part of me.

“Rory, you have to stop this! Whatever it is… Whatever you need him to do – let me help.”

Raegan’s eyes, tear-riddled and dark, lifted to mine before he returned to hanging his head in agony.

Even Rory knew that what was occurring to his King was wrong, but he sighed over my shoulder. “We tried that. We tried doing this through you.” Then his voice was soft and full of apologies. “I am sorry. But until Raegan takes this oath, I cannot let him go.”

“Stop!” I roared, vibrating with an indescribable amount of pain. “Please, Rory! Please, stop. Don’t do this. Please, I love him!” I screamed, putting every ounce of all that I was into the noise. Then again, quieter and reserved for only the gods, “I love him, please help him.”