The Ravaged Fairy (2 page)

A door squeaked open and a chilled draft
swept through the house. “
Iníon
?” A soft voice filtered
through the open door. Since she could remember, Gran never called her by
Breena but always
daughter
in Irish.

“In here, Gran…” she spoke and continued
to hem the flesh.

“…and who is this?” her grandmother was
the shortest woman in all of Ireland, or she could be. She barely reached four feet
tall and was always referred to as a lephrechan álainn, the beautiful
leprechaun. From the short black hair to the wise green eyes, she lived up to
her name. Her brow rose and her eyes traveled to the stranger on the bed. “…and
why is all but his good bits showing?”

Why did Gran sound as disappointed as she
felt? “I found him on the road, he’s injured.” Breena finished sowing the second
wound and used the wet cloth to wipe away the fresh blood. “I have no idea who
he is…”

The scolding began, but she tuned it out
while her eyes roamed. It didn’t matter what Gran said, this strange compulsion
urged her to bring him home. Besides, she couldn’t do anything about it now; he
was already there.

“…and your stitches need work…” she added
with a downward tilt of her lips. “
Iníon
,
you have a heart of gold…”

“…like the song…” Breena finished the
words that Gran always muttered.

“Well, it looks like we’re taking on a
guest. As much as I enjoy the sight of him in a little cloth, your eyes keep wandering,
girl. Go find some clothes for him.”

That was the last thing she wanted Gran
to notice. Friends were constantly remarking on her lack of male company. They
were always muttering that her legs were locked closed. Breena left the room in
search of attire, her mind still wondering.

Her legs were not locked. It was just
hard to find someone that really interested her. No man she’d ever met was like
the men in novels. Real life was just such a disappointment where men were
concerned and she was determined to stay away from any romance that wasn’t
perfect. She stopped mid step.

How did she go from embarrassed about
staring at a man’s fine butt to a declaration on men? She pulled the thin
wooden door opened with more force than necessary. The closet was stacked with Pop’s
old clothes. Nothing of his was ever thrown out and it should fit…him. She
didn’t even know his name. Either way, he’d have clothes over those muscles so
Gran wouldn’t worry about her wandering eyes. She returned to the room to find
Gran placing a thick cotton quilt over his body, well most of his body. He was
so tall.

“We’ll let him rest for now…” she stood,
clasped her hands and closed the curtains to the night that pressed against the
glass pane.

Breena nodded, piled the black pants and
white t-shirt on a wooden chair just beside the door. She heard Gran’s light
footsteps travel up the stairs. Despite the recent discussion, her eyes wandered.
Even with the quilt, his arms were visible. A light sheen of gold hair was on
them. His big bare feet stuck free of the quilt.

“Iníon…”

She rolled her eyes and shifted her
stance to see the little woman at the top of the steps. “I know…wandering eyes.
Sweet dreams, Gran.” Her bedroom was next to his. The door was open just a
scant few inches. She entered and clicked it closed.

This was her perfect place, where dreams
were abundant and men were flawless. She glanced at the four-poster bed. She
saved up for a year to purchase the beauty. It was big enough for three people
but only housed herself and the neighbors black cat that occasionally decided
to visit. Right now said cat, was snuggled on the sunflower quilt.

Bookshelves lined all four walls. Not an
inch was visible and that’s the way she liked it. She was a bibliophile, a
lover of books. The majority were Irish romances that decorated her shelves. A fact
that did not escape Gran’s attention and every so often she would find an
American romance novel on her bed. She would read them, of course, but cowboys
and vampires did little for her desire. There was something about Irish fairy
tales.. The possibilities of magic, the beautiful scenery, and the utterly
romantic men that were usually strapping warriors. They swept a girl right from
a cold reality and into a world of magic. Oh, and sex. Damn those scenes made
her blush.

Breena slipped off her flat shoes and
walked barefoot along the soft, pale carpet. There was a door to a massive
closet, the bathroom being the room next to hers, and then there was her
favorite spot in the whole world. She pulled open the wide doors that lead to
her own personal patio. The sunset basked the sea in an orange glow, and every
night she was lucky enough to watch. There was a loveseat swing beside the door,
and she plopped herself onto the fluffy cushions. Beneath the sun and closer
than the sea was a deserted, rocky beach. It was her own paradise and many a
time she fell asleep under the bright stars. She tucked her legs beneath her
and inhaled the fresh air with a smile.

Could life get any better than this?

****

Carrick, king of the fairies awoke to
another silent morning. The sun slowly rose in the sky over his quiet kingdom,
not that there was ever much noise. His fairies species were going extinct and
one of them had just been kidnapped.

He grabbed the railing with both hands,
squeezed to ease the anger and helpless feeling. Nothing helped. The trolls
just wouldn’t give up. First, they kidnap his queen and now his prized warrior
and friend was in their clutches.

They’d spent all morning sunrise raiding
a troll lair with no news on his lost fairy. It was another moment to feel the
pressure, the failure of being the king of a dying race. Just when he thought
life would get better. He had a new queen, a woman that stole his heart. She
made his life rich with happiness. Every morning he woke next to Brook and
thanked the Goddess for her. Every single night he held her close and tried to
ease the fears of the future. The danger was great for them, but for his queen,
it was astronomical and yet she stayed. She accepted him as he was, and made
him all the stronger for it.

“You’re blaming yourself again, aren’t
you?”

Brook’s sweet voice filtered through the
open doors behind him. “Just thinking...”

“Blaming...”

Her small arms wrapped around his waist,
hands sinking into his loincloth. Her hard nipples pressed against his bare
back. His cock rose despite the worry consuming his mind.

“How about I take care of this problem...”
Her fingers gently stroked the hard length of his erection. “...then you go
find another troll hide out and find our fairy.”

“As my Queen wishes.” He grinned as he
spoke. His smile faded as she cupped his balls and teased the excited tip of
his penis.

He took one hesitant look over his
kingdom then joined Brook. Her plan sounded better than his did. Soon, with the
Goddess’s blessing, she’d be ripe with child and then the future might just
brighten.

****

Breena snuggled deeper into the blanket,
swimming in a sea of pillows and fading dreams. It had been one hell of a dream,
too. With the sexy stranger in the next room as the star, he was gentle and
sweet. A grin grew on her face.

“Stop that!” Gran’s voice came from the
other side of her closed door. “No wandering!”

“What?” How did she always know? “I just
woke up, most normal people say good morning.” She sat and crossed her arms
over her chest.

“Good morning.” They were grunted words
and then the soft sound of feet shuffling from her door.

Breena frowned, Gran always had that sixth
sense with things, and now apparently it could tell when she was thinking about
the sexy, gold man. A yawn erupted, followed by a much-needed stretch of her
arms. The man hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, he could be cruel or dumb or
worse.

She stood and wrapped the yellow robe
around herself quickly. There was no need to let anyone in on her little secret.
The robe was long enough to hide the nighty that gently cupped her curves. She
had a thing for sexy lingerie. It was a walk on the wild side to order them and
grab the delivery before Gran. Then wearing them was as close to sexual heaven
as she could get. Soft silk or lace, she loved both. It glided over her body
and sent shivers along her spine straight to the hidden spot between her legs. She
stretched once more, her palms toward the ceiling before wrapping the robe
closed and opening her bedroom door.

“I’m over to the market. Don’t forget to
cut the potatoes for dinner.” Gran was at the front door, her jacket already
over her shoulders. “I left some warm broth on the counter for the man...” She
gingerly pointed to the other room. “...and fresh bandages for you to clean him
up. Iníon... be careful with him.”

“Gran.” She rolled of her eyes. She could
take care of herself.

“If he tries anything, you have me
permission to hack off his good bits off.”

“Gran!” A giggle lingered in her shocked
tone.

“I’m just saying. I love you, Iníon.”

“I love you, too...” Breena covered her
grin until Gran closed the front door and her little car rumbled to life. She
wasn’t going near his good bits, and if she did it would not be to cut them off.
First thing to do was get dressed. She would not be going near that gorgeous
hunk of a man without proper clothing or else her mind would stay on the good
bits instead of helping him heal.

It took only a moment to remove her
favorite piece of clothing, and shove a pair of jeans along with a black
sweater over her head. The black boots with white laces had extra cushion on
the soles to help with her long walks to town. What happened to the original
black ones, Breena glared at that freaking cat. It glanced at her with big
green eyes and meowed innocently then scuttled under her bed.

Now she stood outside the stranger’s door
with her hands full and her heart beating wildly in her chest. Why was she so
anxious? Sure, he was striking but that had never made her body hum with desire
like it did with him. She didn’t even know his name but the thought of that
silky golden hair or his warm flesh made her pulse skyrocket. Breena shook her
head, squared her shoulder and opened the door.

The room was quiet except for the gentle
sound of his breathing. She shifted a chair from the kitchen to the side of his
bed and placed the things in her arms on it. Her eyes wondered. How could they
not roam his covered body? The clothes she grabbed yesterday were not on his
person. His body was covered by Gran’s quilt, correction, his lower half was
covered. The good bits, she grinned then walked to the big window that faced
their front yard. She threw the curtain apart, this was another of Gran’s
quilting projects and the movement displaced a lungful of dust. She wrinkled
her nose, clicked the lock on the window and pushed the panes open. That would
help him heal, feeling the sun warm his body and the wind on his face, a very handsome
face. Her mind was definitely wandering.

She bit her lower lip and returned to the
man that occupied her thoughts. How sad was she? He was the excitement, of her
year. She plopped on the bed a little harder than she meant. The old wooden
frame groaned and there was distinct snap before Breena felt herself tumble to
the ground.

“Oh, shite.” Her hands instantly went to
him as he rolled toward her, on an angle the bed was a makeshift ramp. His bare
chest pressed against her palms and she pushed furiously to keep him from
falling atop her. If he fell, he would land right over her and roll straight
onto his damaged back. She pressed harder, used all her strength to ease him
back, but it was no use. “Wake up!” she yelled right at him and his lids began
to lift.

Chapter Two

Breena stared into the most compelling
light green eyes that swirled with hints of yellow. They seemed to swirl as he
shifted an arm and pressed his hand beside her head, using the floor as leverage
to keep from squishing her. She couldn’t tear her sight away from his, they
sucked her whole soul into a void of romance and lust.

“Who are you?”

His voice, dear lord, was so raspy and
deep she wanted to melt into a puddle. “Breena...” she whispered and frowned as
she pressed against his chest more firmly. He was after all going to fall on
her and there was no way he’d have the strength to pull himself up. Her muscles
began to scream in protest as he kept staring.

“Breena...like the...”

“Yes.” she didn’t let him finish, her
body protested the weight to loudly. “Me parents named me after a mythological
fairy palace. Now help me because I’m trying to save your arse.” Technically,
it was his back she was trying to help. At this point, she’d say anything to
get him to move.

He squinted in confusion. “Save me?”

So he was daft. “Yes, pull yourself...”
she never finished the sentence. The remainder of the bed cracked and he landed
with a thud atop her. He weighed a ton, more than a ton. His body crushed hers
into the hard floor and his lids once again fell shut. “Great...” At least he
hadn’t rolled and landed on his back. Now she was stuck beneath him and
couldn’t budge his massive size. Worse was that his hips had shifted and she
felt the thick jut of his manhood against her middle. Breena’s eyes went wide,
her first erection. She giggled inwardly at how that thought came out and
shoved at his shoulders. After a minute of grunting and pushing, she gave up. Her
hands and head fell back to the floor. His face was against her neck, his lips
so close to her skin she felt his breath tease her flesh. Moisture gathered
between her legs. How the hell did she always get stuck in these situations?
Well, not exactly like this but she had a tendency to be at the worst place at
the worst time.