Page 8 of A Fate so Cruel

A few benches stood at the front of the space. If there had been others, they’d been removed long ago.

The space was . . . open, and he wanted to run to a corner where he could put his back against the wall and hide away from the world. To try to calm his mind from what had just happened.

Had it happened? Were the last few minutes even real or—Rion ran a delicate, trembling hand over the cut on his forearm and a single step had pain radiating up through his leg again.

Real. Oh so real. As were the Fae seated in various clusters throughout the space. Several younglings clung to their mothers, their faces frozen with fear while others played quietly in the center of the room, shifting puzzles and blocks.

Their fear hit him, then Rion vomited all over the floor.

He heaved, struggling to catch his breath. Had strangers just tried to—his breath was too shallow, his lungs too empty. Air was gone, sucked out of the space. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—A light hand touched his shoulder and Rionleaped back, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.

His mother. He needed to find Saoirse and his mother and—

“Breathe.” It was a simple command, yet he found it difficult to obey. An adult female with sky-blue eyes kneeled before him, offering a reassuring smile as she draped a warm blanket around his shoulders. “You’re okay now, little one.”

A lump rose in his throat. He knew her. The eyes, the long sand colored hair. Liam’s mother. His friend must be here, too.

As if a single thought summoned him, Liam appeared from around his mother’s side. Or maybe he’d already been standing there.

Rion’s lips trembled again and a sob escaped. Liam’s mother pulled him in, holding him close while his chest heaved. She rubbed light circles along his back and whispered in hushed tones, telling him over and over that he was safe. He was safe. He was safe.

When he could breathe again, Rion pulled away and wiped the tears from his face. Liam’s mother gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He winced. “Shall we get you cleaned up?”

Rion gave a subtle nod, unsure what else to do with himself. She guided him with a hand at his back and Liam ran up to his other side.

“Are you okay?”

Rion wasn’t sure how to respond. Liam had his father’s eyes, a deep chestnut brown, and his mother’s hair that hung too far over his face. He’d pushed it to the side twice already.

Liam had been his best friend for as long as he could remember.

They’d met in the first year of grade school and had been inseparable since. “I don’t know.” Rion’s voice shook andeverything felt strange. Like he was experiencing the world from outside his body.

“Don’t crowd him,” Liam’s mother coaxed with a gentle tone as if she were speaking about an injured animal.

They entered a large bathroom foyer and Liam’s mother instructed Rion to sit on one of the unoccupied sofas.

The room smelled of sterile cleaning supplies and too much blood. A female sat across from him, wincing as her companion pulled a needle and thread from a case.

Rion turned away from it, hoping his arm wouldn’t need stitches as well.

He was in a room full of noble males and females, he realized, but even they hadn’t been spared from whatever had happened downstairs.

Liam’s mother had her hair tied back when she returned and settled on the floor before him with a bowl of water and clean cloths. She went for his shoe first.

Rion winced and she muttered apologies as she undid the laces and carefully pulled it away from his swollen foot.

It was twice the normal size and had already turned various shades of blue and purple. Liam leaned over his mother’s shoulder and made a face. “Is it broken?” Rion hoped not. He’d never had a broken bone before.

Liam’s mother prodded at the tender areas and Rion flinched and hissed in response. “I can’t tell. We’ll wrap it tight and keep you off of it until one of the healers can check the bones.”

His mind was finally calming. Clearing. “Where’s my mother?” He didn’t want a healer and he couldn't care less about getting cleaned up.

Her jaw tightened and she turned to dip a rag into the bowl of steaming liquid. Not just water, not from the scent wafting toward him.

“There’s no need for you to worry, she’ll be all right.”

His heart leaped into his throat. Not an answer. It was never good when a Fae didn’t answer. “Where’s Saoirse?” He tried again.

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