AllFreeNovel Stories worth discovering

The Unseelie Heir’s Claim

Page 19

by Elisa Rae

Yurtin’s muffled, indignant roars drowned out any whimpering sounds. “Rue, did you find her?” I asked.

My captive squirmed and pulled his head to the side to unblock his mouth. “Unhand me!”

I peered at the trees, tapping into my magic in an attempt to extend my senses.

“You are hurting me,” the bully whined.

“That is the point.” I added a bit of pressure to the arm behind his back, causing him to cry out in pain. “Now be quiet and still. I am trying to listen.”

Just as I was considering abandoning Yurtin to his own devices, Rue appeared, carrying a girl child in her arms.

“She is bound. I can’t free her.” Lowering the child to sit on the grass, Rue bent over her, smoothing a rat’s nest of dark curls back from the girl’s face. “You are safe now, darling. He won’t hurt you anymore.”

Large dark eyes regarded me gravely from a bruised little face. I was bad at guessing children’s ages, but she was far younger than I expected. There were angry red marks against her pale skin from where the gag, now hanging around her neck, had dug into the sides of her mouth. Icy fingers of rage squeezed my chest. How could a full-grown man do such a thing to a child—barely more than a baby?

Fighting the urge to hurt Yurtin further, I purposefully released his arm and rose to my feet so I wouldn’t be tempted to cause the man permanent harm. I prepared to subdue him again if he started making a menace of himself. So, I was surprised when he didn’t move beyond groaning.

Some of my rage must’ve crept into my face because the girl’s eyes widened farther. “But what about him?”

“That is Kent. He won’t hurt you.” Rue continued to assess the child. When she reached the child’s hands, she tried once more to untie the coarse rope binding them. “Do you have a knife, Kent? I suppose I could run into the kitchen and—” I crossed to her side and dropped my smallest weapon into her lap. “Thank you! Do you want to?”

“You had best do it,” I suggested. “I don’t want to scare her further.”

Rue nodded and sliced through the ropes around the child’s hands before moving to her bound feet. “Kent, this is Mela. Mela, this is the man I told you about.”

Mela’s guileless stare never strayed from my features. Realizing my height probably added to my intimidating appearance, I squatted down next to Rue. “Pleased to meet you, Mela.” I inclined my head.

“You have kind eyes.” Mela frowned at me.

“Then why so grim?” I asked.

Her grave little face didn’t change, but she tilted her head to the side as though the movement would offer her better insight into my soul.

“You aren’t human.”

“Don’t be rude,” Rue hissed softly as she rubbed Mela’s freed feet. No shoes protected the wool-stockinged feet. The stockings themselves were almost more darns than original sock. “Where are your shoes?”

Mela’s shrug turned into a shiver that shook her whole body. Only then did I note her blue lips.

“We should get her inside.” Rue glanced at Yurtin’s prone body. “I don’t want him following us.”

“I can carry her,” I offered. “If she doesn’t mind. He won’t dare follow. If he does, I will deal with him after the two of you are safely inside.”

Mela reached for me wordlessly.

After pulling my hood into place, I scooped her up into my arms. Carrying her was like lifting a bird. She was so light and fragile that I feared I might break her if I grasped her too hard. Mela appeared not to share my concern as she nuzzled into my shoulder and closed her eyes.

Rue led the way back to the kitchen door, giving Yurtin a wide berth. He didn’t move except to snore as we walked past.

I was relieved to see he had simply passed out from too much alcohol.

“You didn’t hurt him, did you?” Rue asked in a hushed whisper as she held the door open for me to pass through.

“No—not much. He is snoring away. He will probably wake up tomorrow not remembering anything.”

We bustled into the kitchen, surprising Broan as he was rinsing the last of the dishes. “Who is this?” he asked as he straightened, drying his great calloused hands on the apron around his middle.

“This is Mela.” Rue motioned toward the table. “Put her there. I will fetch my cloak. She is freezing.”