Fallen

Chapter 1: A Once Upon A Time Love

Sylas woke to the crackle of a fire. A rabbit was roasting on a spit, dripping juices on to root vegetables over a grate. He moved to rub his head, but found his hands and legs shackled and chained to one another. A rag was stuffed in his mouth. He worked his mouth to spit it out and rested his aching head against a tree behind him. He wished he could move closer to the fire. The air had a bite to it. A smattering of blood crusted the thigh of his pant leg.

“Look who’s awake.” The masked girl bent to Sylas. “Hungry?”

Sylas looked away indignantly.

The girl returned with a silver plate. A small offering of meat, cheese, vegetables, and a hunk of bread laid upon it. Their shadows danced in the firelight.

“We want you to stay strong. Eat.”

Sylas rested his chin on his knees and stared into the distance.

The girl left the plate beside him and freed his hands for the time being. A lilt cradled her voice when she spoke. “Gods forbid you’re not strong enough to stave off a barghest or dearg due, should one come stomping through, because you didn’t eat your supper.” She straightened and turned away.

“I thought you said you’d return me in one piece,” Sylas muttered.

The girl turned. A sparkle in her eye. “Count the hairs on your head, my prince. You’ll not find one missing.”

“But I’m bleeding.”

“It stopped. It was only a poison dart. My men get a little trigger happy at times. It’s not as thought anyone actually tried to kill you. You’re whining.”

Sylas’s lips puckered.

“See? Who knew our valiant prince was a big baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” Sylas mumbled.

“Aw,” the girl teased. “Would the widdle pwince wike some bandages?”

Sylas lifted his head. The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Yes.”

The girl shook her head with a soft laugh. She crouched beside him and drew a knife. Sylas jumped. “Relax, Prince Charming.” Her voice was sardonic. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She began cutting at his hunting cloak.

“What are you doing? This is my favorite cloak.”

She locked eyes with him. “Do you want a bandage or not?” Sylas shut his mouth and looked away. The girl finished cutting away the fabric. She slid the leg of his trousers up unabashedly. Sylas sat straight up, his eyes wide. He inhaled sharply. Her touch was electric on his skin. He dared not move. She worked in silence, using a tin cup of steaming water to clean the small wound, then bandage it. She tied it tightly and sat back on her heels. “There.” She looked up, gazing into Sylas’s wide eyes. Sylas swallowed. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. The words could scarcely form on his lips. “Thank you.”