Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Thorin
“ C hild of fire, you must wake and put them away. They cannot know the truth.”
It’s peaceful here. The darkness is a welcome comfort and the silence is a blessing. Why would I want to leave?
“Please, Thorin, they cannot know! That ugly little goblin will be back any second.”
The first breath is like shards of crystal tearing through my lungs. The second, like a string about to snap. The third, like a pulled muscle. While all of them are distressing, it gradually becomes easier and reality comes crashing upon me.
Flexing my fingers, I expected to feel the comforter soaked in cold sticky blood. Instead, I feel dust against a hard surface. Blindly I reach for a pillow or the edge of the bed, but it’s more ash and hunks of material.
“There you go. Now open your eyes. I’ll be right here to help you,” Wynona coos, taking my hand. With every bit of strength I have, I force my eyes open to be greeted by a beautiful antler clad woodland fae. “Welcome back, darling. We’ve got to get you upright and put these away.” She cautiously reaches behind me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. An ache like I’ve never left thrums across my back, making me aware of how uncomfortable I am.
Wynona yanks herself back, cradling her arm with a tired smile. “Whoa there! Let’s try not to singe my skin off.”
Singe her skin off…
An indescribable ache ricochets throughout my body as it tries to spring forward. Determined, I try again with no avail. Wynona stares down drenched in sorrow, she slides one arm behind my neck, careful not to burn herself, helping me upright. Finally being able to look over my shoulder, I crane my sore neck to find a pair of blazing wings much too big for a pixie of my size. “Dear gods! What?! How?!” I screech with a raspy voice.
Wynona pinches her brows together, utterly confused by my question. “Your wings broke through, but I’m getting the feeling your how and my how are vastly different.”
“I—” Words can’t properly form right now. “Put them away?” That is all I manage to squeak out.
“Try to calm yourself. In…Out… ” I breathe with her, feeling the racing in my chest slow down. “Very good. Now close your eyes and imagine them folding up underneath your skin. Kind of like putting away clothing into a bureau.” That’s an…interesting comparison, but I have so much to lose if I can’t hide my truth. I comply, picturing it just as she said to, but I only feel a light tug on my back.
“Thorin, I need you to try harder. I can hear footsteps.”
Fuck. Okay, I can do this. I vividly imagine doors opening up my back, and then I tell my wings to compress inside. Nothing happens for a moment, but right as the door squeaks open, my wings snap away.
The clap of dress shoes nears, stopping where the foot of the bed should be. Elliot must be here.
“Midwife. Healer. I’m here to supply you with blood.” Healer . How quickly I have lost my elite title of lifebringer.
“Well, don’t just stand there and stare at the poor girl. Hand me the chalice,” Wynona snips.
Elliot shuffles over, hands over the cup, and claps his hands behind his back.
“You may leave now, Elliot. Thank you for your help.”
Elliot clears his throat before speaking. “Master says I must watch the healer consume the blood. He doesn’t want there to be any mishaps .” What he means to say is that Locren doesn’t trust Wynona not to take the blood for herself. That’s rich coming from that selfish prick.
Wynona brings the cup to my mouth, tipping it back slowly, making sure I take small sips. Gradually, my sight is restored, presenting me with the reality I never needed to see. The silver bowl of my flesh lays on its side, fatty hunks of umber beside it. The metal tray of instruments pushed against the wall absolutely inundated in my blood. Speaking of my blood, I’m currently sitting in a congealed mixture of my precious life source and dark gray ash. Truly something of nightmares.
“I will let Master know I have bore witness.” Elliot tips his head, his enormous ears flopping as he does. “The healer’s room is ready for her, set with all the medical equipment you may need.”
Slipping one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back, Wynona cradles me into her chest, carrying me to my bathroom. With a snap of her fingers, the tub is filled with steaming water.
“I’m sorry to say, you will need multiple infusions before you feel any semblance of normal. Bathing is going to be painful.”
I nod once, preparing myself.
Wynona lowers me into the water and I claw up her arms like a rabid animal—holy fuck that is unpleasant. Wynona doesn’t so much as flinch, letting me get accustomed to the water in my own time. Eventually, I’m able to fully submerge my broken body, watching as the water turns a muddied red.
“Does it get better?” My hoarse voice is weak as I try to speak.
Wynona tilts my head back, trying her best to rinse the horrors away. “Oh child, this is only the beginning.”
6 months later
The whole bed vibrates across the floor with each explosion. All around me books fall off the walls, dirt from planters is scattered everywhere, the window thrums behind me. I have to leave this bed, but I’m terrified the room will crash down onto me.
“Don’t be a little bitch, you got this, Thorin.” I give myself a pep talk, throwing the thick comforter off my small body. Shimmying off the side of the bed with my arm protectively wrapped around my round belly, I steady myself as another explosion goes off. Not bothering with a robe or slippers, I waddle from my bedroom, slamming against the hallway wall with the next round of explosions.
“Ms. Thorin! Oh, my sweet child, we have to get you out of here. Locren is waiting for you in his office.” Wynona rushes to my side, guiding me through the destroyed sitting room and down the creepy hallway whose walls that once were adorned with a morbid gallery of trophies. Now they litter the ground like fallen warriors, with each step the gruesome wings squish and pop beneath my bare feet.
“Right this way,” Wynona rushes out, tucking me closer into her chest. The gilded door is already open with Elliot and two other goblins waiting for our arrival.
“Lifebringer, Master is about to open the portal. Please make haste.” Elliot presses.
Stepping into my personal hell, I’m stunned by what I find. The normally primped and polished Locren waits clothed in only dark pants hung low on his hips, disheveled icy hair, and dark bags under his villainous eyes. Lifting his tired gaze to meet mine, he runs hand through his hair. “I’m opening the portal now. I expect you all to be ready,” he grunts.
Elliot, Wynona, and I huddle close into Locren’s space, watching as his fangs emerge and sink into his wrist. Hovering his bleeding wound above marking on the floor, he chants a few words, opening the portal.
“Where are we going?” It’s a stupid question because he’s never going to answer me.
Interlocking his fingers with mine, he tugs me so we’re side-by-side in front of the endless void.
“My true estate.”
“Which is where?”
Tilting his head down at me, a smirk pulls at his lips: “Bonecliff.”