Scorn and Devotion

Chapter 42

warnings - bad parents, hiding secrets, noncon kissing, injury, fighting, name calling

"Long live the king!"

I was unsure who had started the chant but now it rang throughout the room. They were hailing Timothée as their leader. Timothée was paying no mind as he rushed over to help me up from the ground. He handed me Archangel immediately after I was on my feet. I dropped her to the ground and pulled him to me in a fierce hug. His grip on me was just as tight as I buried my face in his chest, sucking in breath after breath of air.

"You died," I could barely hear him over the cacophony of sound. He was sobbing, I could feel the wetness of tears falling from his eyes onto me.

"I'm here, we are here. You killed him," I babbled back as he just continued to repeat "You died" over and over.

"Your majesty," a beautiful voice interrupted our wild embrace. Before us stood a gorgeous woman with hair as white as snow and delicate features. Freckles spattered nearly every part of her skin, and her eyes shone a soft brown. I noticed next that she had an intact pair of wings. Hers were not shaped like angel wings, like Timothée's, but rounded, more akin to a butterfly. Designs like a pair of large eyes decorated the upper part of her wings.

"How do you have wings?" I asked bluntly. A gentle smile graced the woman's lips. She looked hardly older than I, possibly even younger.

"I am Abraxas's second wife, Amoret, when you killed him, it awoke me from my sleep. He never took my wings from me."

There were gasps from the Fae around us when Amoret announced who she was. It was possible she had not been seen in years, yet they remembered her.

"I am willing to do whatever it is I can to help you. You saved us."

I glanced around at the crowd of De-Winged Fae. Some of them looked confused, some relieved, but mostly they looked angry.

"I don't think they wanted to be saved," I murmured as I reached down to grab Archangel. There was a crack through the blade. Perhaps the power it had taken to kill Abraxas had damaged the sword..

"Nevertheless," Amoret smiled graciously.

"I just want to go home," Timothée sighed.

"So you do not plan to rule?" Amoret asked carefully.

"As little as possible," Timothée grumbled.

"I must warn you, this place will call to you. The magic of the court knows to whom it belongs. You beheaded its old master and, now it answers to you. You won't be able to stay away for long."

"I was afraid of that, but I've been hurt and tortured here, and before I make any crazy decisions, I want to go home."

"I understand," Amoret nodded slowly. "Allow me to find some Fae who didn't sympathize with Abraxas so that we can get you home as fast as possible. I don't have the ability to transport people, being only half-Fae myself."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Timothée nodded gratefully. Amoret turned away and launched herself into the air so that she could get out of the pit.

"What do we do now?"

Timothée ignored my question and looked at me searchingly.

"You are coming back with me right?" he asked.

"What?" I could barely believe my ears. "Why would you ask that, of course I am."

"Don't you remember how this whole thing started? You were running away."