Page 70 of Why Broken Wings Fray

“Thanks, Rìoghail,” I whispered to the molten creature, who whinnied softly for me before turning a heated glare on Raegan, suggesting that perhaps he should thank him more often. Whatever it was that Rìoghail said to Raegan through their strange bond of caraid must have been insulting, because Raegan laughed in that derogatory way and rolled his eyes at Rìoghail.

Turning away from Rìoghail, Raegan quickly adapted that childish-excitement once more as he held my hand tighter, the hand that neither of us had let go of when I had dismounted from Rìoghail.

But for a moment, something stole my attention. It was only a flash, only a quick blur of colour against a verdant spread, but it caused my breathing to hitch as I located that hallucination amongst Saoghal.

Hallucination, because there was no way what I was seeing was real. Because Caden, the fairy I plunged a dagger in to, was dead. So there was no way he could truly be in the field, sprinting amongst the blades of grass.

Fear possessed me, causing my hands to shake, my breathing to come in choppy bunches, as I remembered all too clearly what I had done.

I wasn't expecting to come out of that tranced, petrified state, until Raegan stepped towards me and drew my attention to such a sharp, centred focus on him. With him in my vision, the world, my troubles, and the darkness around me, simply had nothing to combat the way he was a singularly star amongst the world set on drowning me.

“I can promise you, Olivia, that you will never see anything like this again.”

The glistening in his eyes was like the sparkling reflection of the sun, and I wanted to do nothing more than to bask in it for the rest of eternity.

Nodding, the two of us as thick as thieves in our excitement, I squeezed his hand. “What are we waiting for, then?”

32

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Sometimes, it was far too easy to get swept up in the many roles Raegan played. It was easy to be frustrated with him when he made decisions as Prince and then King, to dismiss that above all else, Raegan would do what was right for his people. It was easy to be angry at him when he would shut me out, when he tried his best to cast me aside whether it was for my own good or his. And it was easy to want to hate him when he tried to balance all of these parts, quickly jumping from one to the other as he needed.

But the problem was, the side of Raegan that led me from Rìoghail and into the meadow beyond, it outshone the rest. It was a real side of him, a raw and vulnerable side, that was beautiful and mesmerizing in every way as the truest version of him took possession of his body. Out in the middle of nowhere with no responsibilities, no titles, and no people that made him need his many masks, Raegan was simply Raegan and I was so caught up in him that I could no longer sort through my many opinions of him.

His grin was wide, wild, and chaotic in every way as he checked over his shoulder, his eyes following the length of his stretched arm to where it connected with me. That look of wander exploded and burst within his eyes as he realized I was smiling just as wide, and then he was urging us faster towards a small collection of flowers that seemed to be the only source of shade in the expanse of verdant that unraveled before us.

“Oh my,” I breathed as we rounded that swarm of green stems, the blossoming of coloured petals hanging overhead to shield us from the sun. Us, and what laid beneath them.

Raegan ushered me to the side, guiding my feet carefully through the grass until he decided we were a satisfactory distance. There, he dragged me down to the ground, the two of us resting on our knees and watching through the blades of grass.

There, frolicking as filtered beams of sunlight danced across their shaded welcoming-space, were a fresh batch of foals. Pegasus foals.

The first of which was chestnut, a brown so orange that as the fluids along its coat dried, it nearly looked like blood. She let out a nicker as her dam stretched her wings wide and tucked the foal against her with the strongest and most prominent of her feathers. But if I knew anything, it was that foals that had found their balance over their shaky legs were stubborn and wild, so this particular red-feist shrieked and blew right through the cover of protection, showing off the sharp, white stripe along her face that pinkened her nostrils.

I watched, my face sore already from the smile that took it, as the second of the batch decided it was his turn to introduce himself. As black as the night sky with half of his face paled with the colour of the moon, he took to a wobbly strut and dared to approach the red filly from before. He might have succeeded, too, if it hadn’t been for the mares turning on one another and herding their offspring to opposite sides of the shade.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Raegan breathed, his eyes on them, blinking slowly. I stared at his side profile, at his blushed cheeks and the few tendrils of blond hair that tried to slip into his vision. Gently, I lifted my hand and brushed those strands back behind his ear, my fingers grazing on the mutilated flesh atop them.

He bristled as I touched his scars, his eyes snapping to me.

“Truly magnificent,” I whispered, turning both of our focus back to the herd.

“They foal over there–” Raegan pointed off in the distance, to another patch of flowers and what looked like mushrooms, “They prefer to do it in solitude, away from the herd. Then they come back with their young once they can hold their weight. I watch them every year.”

Raegan was as soft and open as he had ever been, so far from any other version of himself that I found myself shaking my head.

He continued, even though I hadn’t said a thing in response. “They’re spread out all over the meadow, right now. At least five or six more mares. Odd how they manage to foal at the same time. I suppose it’s safer that way. But every year, on this exact day, it happens.”

Nodding, as if I understood, I looked back to the herd and the approaching mare and foal. The mare, white as snow, strode with a certain type of ease that caused her hips to sway lazily and her tail to swish in harmony. I didn’t understand that utter ease at first, until her foal popped out from the protection of her wing and I was left staring at a mirror image to Rìoghail.

“This is Rìoghail’s herd?”

Raegan nodded. “There are a few others throughout Saoghal, though most stick as close to Cluaineach as they can. Rìoghail only came to Choilltean because I did – we’ve been bonded since I was a youngling.”

I looked to his caraid, the golden stallion who had his neck arched stiffly and his eyes wide as he approached his herd. A few nickers rang out from his mares as he sauntered past them, finding his place comfortably at the side of the crystalline-looking one. Like Raegan in every way, it seemed.

“He’s been with you for a long time, then. Their lifespans are… long, too?”