Page 69 of Why Broken Wings Fray

“I’ve got something… something so magnificent to show you.” He truly believed it, too. That’s why his eyes were shimmering with some younger, far more innocent and happy version of himself. And to finish it all off, to permanently knock the breath from my lungs, Raegan extended a hand to me and beamed his excitement in my direction.

“Have you been eating the hallucinogenic mushrooms again?”

Another laugh. Another smile that belonged not to the King, nor the Prince, but to Raegan. “Come on!”

With a roll of my eyes, I reached for his hand. “But I’m tired–” My sentence was cut off as I screeched, Raegan yanking on my arm and hauling us out of the room at a speed that suggested the castle was on fire.

There was absolutely no room for discussion as Raegan pulled us through hallway after hallway, slowing in his speed only when we hit the staircase and he decided he valued the integrity of my ankles. But once we were on the main level again, no matter how much I protested and tried to slow his stride, Raegan’s grip on my hand tightened and he was moving us faster and farther through his castle.

When we burst out of the castle doors, nearly taking out all four guards who stood at attention there, I saw something that I had not seen in far too long. Or someone.

Rìoghail.

In all of his glory, Raegan’s golden caraid stood proudly only a few paces from the entrance to the Cluaineach castle. His golden, off-white wings were snapped wide, the morning breeze ruffling at the longest of them and causing the stallion to snort and stomp his hooves over and over. His pelt, still as molten and as rich as the day I met him, continued to glisten regardless of how much sun sat above us.

Upon seeing me, he let out a short nicker, threw his head several times, and caused the wave that was his nearly snow-white mane to flutter over and over.

“Rìoghail,” I said through a sweet smile, approaching the stallion slowly and with caution. His horn was not out, but only a quick movement from me or a simple command from Raegan could change that.

Even during my last visit to Saoghal, I had not gotten to approach Rìoghail, who seemed to be a sort of royalty himself amongst the herds. I had only been able to admire the magnificent creature from afar, left to see only the shining of his coat and the gleam of power in his eyes.

“Go on,” Raegan coaxed me after he nodded to his guards and took a rough-looking knapsack from them, pushing gently at my spine and directing my path towards his caraid.

I nodded, not to him but to myself, steeling my resolve as I approached. “It’s been too long, Rìoghail.”

The stallion snorted again, his nostrils widening as he blew out breath after breath. His sides were expanding and contracting rapidly, suggesting the speed at which he and Raegan had flown here.

Raegan strode right past me and launched himself up onto his steed, bare of saddle and lacking a bridle, shit-eating-grin on his face. Rìoghail retorted his quick movement with a snap of his tail, the threads like golden strings whipping Raegan’s shin. That was where the two of them were far too similar; their boyish, cocky, Prince of the Realm attitude was too well matched between them.

I dared another step towards Rìoghail and he retracted his attention from Raegan and placed it sternly on me. In my previous encounters with him, I had not realized just how large the stallion was, his back a towering height and his muscles a rippling art of strength.

“Are you coming?” Raegan crooned, leaning forward on Rìoghail’s neck just to watch me panic in the presence of his caraid.

“O-on h-him?”

“On him. Unless you’d rather walk, that is.”

Raegan was so far away from the King that it distracted me long enough to brave the last few steps to Rìoghail. He remained still, too still, his ears pricked forward and his neck rounded into a solid mass. The noise that came from his nostrils was dragon-like in every sense as he tried to assess my approach.

“Easy, boy,” I whispered, lifting a hand to his snout. The golden pegasus took my scent at that distance, the whites of his eyes shining just beyond the amber colour. And then, as if it was as simple as asking, he pressed his muzzle into my fingers and allowed the pad of my hand to rove over the velvet-like texture of his snout.

I only hoped Urram was not around to hear me as I placed both hands on Rìoghail’s muzzle and whispered, “Caraid?”

The stomp of Rìoghail’s hoof threatened an early heart-attack for me, but then he shoved his whole head against my chest and blew hot air from his nostrils.

“Come come come!” Raegan trilled from where he watched, reaching yet another hand towards me. I was reluctant to take it, even more so than the first time, considering the bones of my fingers were still throbbing from the grip he had placed on them. But no amount of hopping or jumping was getting me up onto Rìoghail’s back, so I rolled my eyes, warned Raegan with a glare, and took his hand.

The King of Talamh lifted me up by that simple point of contact, causing me to feel like nothing more than a blade of grass, and set me in front of him. I tried not to focus too intently on the way he felt behind me, the strength of him and the promising structure of his chest against my back.

Raegan’s face fell forward, finding the curve of my neck where his chin hovered and his lips teased at the shell of my ear. His words were breathy, his lips intentionally brushing against my skin, as he murmured, “Hold on, my little human.”

I had never been much for rushes of adrenaline, but I would never tire of the way the pegasus’ flew. Rìoghail was elegant with his movements, even though his powerful, muscular body would suggest he could be heavy and sluggish. Each tiny adjustment through his body was accounted for, from the angle of his wings to the set of his neck on his shoulders.

Raegan laughed behind me as I threw my arms out to the side. His chuckle scattered my hair, his breath warm against my neck as I continued to pretend I was flying. Before long I was laughing, too, my head tilted back where it found a comfortable position against his chest, the two of us lost in the glee of soaring. As I glided along, allowing the breeze to skip through every finger, Raegan set his arms around my waist, his hands quietly finding my stomach where he knitted his fingers together and allowed me to absorb the entirety of his presence.

I could have stayed up there, pretending that neither of us had a worry in the world, that we were nothing more than two people taking the world by the skies, forever. But then Rìoghail was descending, Raegan was helping me to prepare for the drop, and the green stretch of meadowland beyond Cluaineach approached faster and faster.

“I love flying,” I admitted as Raegan hopped down, turning to offer me his hand for the third time. It was strange in that I wasn’t sure we had ever touched this much, or at least in such intimate, kind, and gentle ways. I smiled at him as I took his soft offering, my hand fitting perfectly in his before I dropped down from Rìoghail’s back.