Winter Heiress

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Winter Heiress Page 10

by Skye MacKinnon


  “Earlier, did you feel something strange when we… ehm… climaxed?” he asks and I nod enthusiastically.

  “Yes, I was going to ask the same. It was like… like we connected? Mentally?”

  “Exactly! I felt like I could see inside your mind, just for a moment. It was strange but felt… right, somehow. Like it was meant to be. That doesn’t make sense, does it.”

  “Yes it does. I felt the same. No idea how, but I also got a glimpse into your mind. Although, maybe not your mind. Your memories.”

  His eyes widen slightly. “What did you see?”

  “I’m not quite sure how to describe it. I didn’t see pictures, but I felt what you felt in the past. Crispin, I don’t know what happened, but I’m so sorry that you had to feel so much pain.”

  He jumps up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I get up as well and put a hand on his shoulder. It first feels like he’s going to shake me off, but he remains there, breathing heavily.

  “Have you ever told anyone?” I ask softly.

  “No,” he whispers. “And I’m not going to. It’s the past, it’s gone.”

  “But it’s not.” I walk around him and give him a gentle hug. He’s stiff as a board but I want him to feel that I’m there for him. That I care. “It’s why you didn’t let me close, right? It’s why you almost strangled me when you showed me how your healing magic works, back in Chesca’s cottage. It’s not gone, it’s still here with you, and I think you need to deal with it.”

  He shoves me away and I stumble backwards.

  “You know nothing! You have no clue! Don’t tell me to deal with things you wouldn’t understand!” His voice is getting louder and his face reddens.

  “You’ve had it easy all your life! Your mother loved you, loves you still! You were born of love, not created to be a killer, a monster, a…”

  Tears are running down his face as he stops shouting. He’s looking so lost, so forlorn. Against my better judgement, I walk towards him, my arms wide open, an invitation for him.

  “You don’t know what I’ve done,” he whispers, his tears freely flowing. I can feel my own tears threatening to come.

  “It doesn’t matter. You didn’t choose to do what you did, right?”

  I take another step forwards. “Tell me about it, Crispin. Get it off your chest. Tell me how I can help.”

  “You can’t help me. She made me, destroyed all the good in me, then discarded me in pieces. I’m broken, Wyn, and you won’t be able to fix me. It was a mistake to give in, I should have stayed away. I should have stayed strong. You’ve got the other three, you don’t need me…”

  That’s it. I embrace him, holding him tight.

  “I need you,” I whisper into his ear, pressing him close as his chest heaves. “I need you and I want you to be mine. Earlier today… it was special. Please don’t throw that away. We can work together, we can put the pieces back together. Both of us.”

  I kiss his cheek. “I need you, Crisp.”

  His tears are dripping on my shoulders and running down my back. I’m glad he’s crying. It means he trusts me enough to do so in front of me. He knows I’d never judge him for it. In contrary, I admire him for showing his feelings. Not many men do nowadays.

  “I can’t talk about it,” he whispers, finally returning my hug. “It’s too painful.”

  I rub his back and notice that his breathing is becoming slower. Good.

  “Can you write it down? Or tell somebody else? Paint it? You need to get it off your chest somehow. Sharing it will help.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Growing up without my mother wasn’t easy. I knew from the beginning that I was adopted, my parents never hid that fact. When Beira visited me, she was cold and distant. Then she left and wouldn’t contact me for a long time. I felt abandoned, lonely, unwanted. In my teens, I became depressed.”

  I pause and this time, it’s he who’s rubbing my back to reassure me. I’ve not told many people what I’m telling him now.

  “I didn’t even know it was depression. It wasn’t that I was sad all the time or crying. No, I was feeling… empty, wrong, and emotionless. I couldn’t laugh about jokes anymore. I became withdrawn. I didn’t have the energy to meet friends or go out after school. I became a bit of a hermit, rarely leaving my room. Luckily, my parents noticed something was wrong and made me see a therapist. It took a while for me to open up, but talking helped. Of course I couldn’t mention that Beira is a Goddess and living in another Realm, so I told her that my mother was living abroad. By talking about it, I realised how abandoned I really felt. And once I knew what was wrong, I could deal with it.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Crispin says slowly. “Did Beira tell you why she had to give you up?”

  “Yes, and it explained a lot. But enough about me. I’ve dealt with my demons. I think it’s time for you to deal with yours.”

  “I really don’t think I can talk about it. But I may be able to show you, if Arc helps us. But that would mean that you’ll have to see it. I wouldn’t want to do that to anyone.”

  I step back and smile at him. I want him to see that I’m meaning what I’m about to say.

  “I’ll do it. For you. For us. We’ll get through this, Crisp, together.”

  I kiss him for emphasis.

  “Aye, I can do it. I dinnae have ta be with ya, either, but if ya want ta stop it, I need ta be there.”

  We’ve asked Arc to join us in my chambers and it looks like he’ll be able to link our minds so I can see Crispin’s memories. I’m a bit scared now, but I can’t let my blond Guardian know that. He’s still struggling with the idea of showing me what happened to him in the past. It must have been something terrible.

  Back at Chesca’s cottage, after he almost strangled me, the others told me a bit about his past. How he was created by the Morrigan to be her torturer. How she forced him to corrupt his healing magic into something that would bring pain and death to the Goddess’s foes. And how she created a sister for him to keep him under control. A sister who died, somehow, when Beira took Crispin away from the Morrigan.

  I steel myself for what I’m about to see. Knowing a bit helps me to prepare, but the guys also told me that all they know is hearsay, not something that Crispin told them. So maybe nothing of it is true.

  I guess I’ll find out.

  “I’d prefer if it’s just Wyn and me,” Crispin says quietly. “But I’d understand if you’d be able to stop it, Princess.”

  “No, you lived it, so I should be able to watch it,” I say with determination. “Let’s do this.”

  “It’s best if ya lie doon on the bed. And I’ll get the others ta keep watch, all three of us will be busy.”

  We do as he says, lying next to each other, holding hands. Arc gets the others, then sits down on a chair by the bed.

  “Is this safe?” Storm asks sceptically, but I ignore him. It’s important, that’s what it is. Who cares about safe. And I mean what I said: if Crispin lived through it, I should be ashamed if I can’t look at his memories.

  “I’m ready.”

  Crispin squeezes my hand.

  “I’m not, but let’s do this.”

  “Okay. Crisp, ya need ta start with something simple. A good memory. That will help bind ya two together. Then go back and show her what ya need. If ya want ta stop, ya need ta think of the present. Wyn, ya won’t be able to influence anything. Crisp is the driver, yer the passenger.”

  I smile. “I trust him.”

  “Good. Close yer eyes. Wyn, think of Crisp. Crisp, think of Wyn. Think of yer bond.”

  I do as he says, thinking back to earlier, when Crispin was inside me, holding me tight. I smile at the memory.

  Then my own memory dissolves and something else takes its place.

  Darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  I open my eyes and look into my own. A grey, slightly misty Wyn is smiling at me. No, not at me, at the dream-Crispi
n standing just behind me. I step out of the way, letting the two look at each other.

  “Where are we?” I ask the very real Crispin next to me. In stark contrast to his dream self, he’s solid and in full colour. The world around us is like an echo, depicting the world but not quite in the same way.

  “Take a guess.”

  I look around. We’re just outside my mother’s Palace, on a path leading to one of the villages. There are five of them, circling the Palace grounds, home to some of the staff and other Guardians wanting to live close to the Queen. Now I remember. Crispin took me to see one of them, Baton Town (definitely not a town, don’t ask me why they would call a village with maybe a hundred houses that), and to visit a friend of his. Somehow, I’d never considered that my Guardians may have friends outside their close-knit group.

  The friend turned out to be Lucas, a broad, wild man who was the village’s smith. He certainly looked like he could swing a hammer. He was nice, but far too obsessed by me being the Princess. He mainly talked to Crispin, ignoring me. Luckily my Guardian noticed how uncomfortable both Lucas and I were, so we left pretty soon after we arrived.

  On the way back, we’d stopped, which I think is where we are now. I didn’t want to go back to the confined walls of the Palace and all the rules I had to follow.

  “We could go for a quick flight,” dream-Crispin says.

  The real Crispin puts a hand on my shoulder and points at dream-Wyn.

  “Look at your eyes light up at my words. Look how you smile. You’re radiant. You were so happy, so beautiful. It made me realise how important little things are… how even flying for a few minutes could make you happy. And how you being happy makes me feel good.”

  I turn around and spontaneously kiss Crispin. He’s surprised, but it doesn’t take him long to respond. His lips are soft on mine, his kiss gentle. I love how all of my Guardians have their own unique way of kissing. And none of them is better than the other; they’re all just right.

  When we break apart, his smile is turning sad.

  “I think it’s time to go back to the beginning. Please remember, the Crispin you will see is not who I am now. He was raw… hurting. Manipulated. He was born to be evil, and it took him a while to see that it was wrong.” He sighs. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. I don’t want you to think bad of me.”

  I take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

  “Don’t worry. Whatever you’re going to show me, it’s not going to change how I think of you. You’re my Crispy.”

  I laugh and he joins me.

  “Please don’t ever call me that again. Once was enough. I’m still angry at Blaze for giving you his sparklies.”

  “Yeah, me too. But I like Crispy. It’s cute.”

  He growls. “I’m not cute.”

  “Yes, you are. My cute Guardian who I’d love to kiss and cuddle right now.” I sigh. “But let’s be responsible and get this over with.”

  He nods, but it’s clear how reluctant he is. He’s only doing this to make me happy. Although I’m not sure ‘happy’ is the right word. By wanting to please me, I hope he’s going to be able to deal with his demons.

  In a flash, the scenery changes. We’re in a dark room that could be anywhere. The walls are stone, illuminated only by a small ball of light hovering by the ceiling. It’s not enough light to see properly, but something is moving in one corner. I walk towards it, curious. There’s a shape… a man. He’s sitting propped up against the wall, as if he’s exhausted, but when I get closer, I can see that he’s got a collar around the neck. He’s shackled against the wall and is struggling to move into a more comfortable position.

  Another step forwards… and my eyes see what my heart already knew. It’s Crispin. His blond hair is dirty and tousled, the clothes he’s wearing are no more than rags. He’s looking thin and frail, so unlike the Guardian standing behind me now.

  My heart breaks for dream-Crispin, and it breaks again when I remember that this was real, once upon a time. This isn’t a dream, this is a memory.

  “I’d been created about a month earlier,” the real Crispin whispers as if not to disturb the memory. “When I opened my eyes for the first time, the most beautiful woman was smiling at me. I didn’t know what was happening, but I felt at home. With that woman in my life, everything just had to be good. I smiled back at her. Then she hit me. Again and again. I didn’t know what was happening, what I’d done. I tried to defend myself, but it was as if my arms were glued to my sides. She punched me in the stomach, slapped my face, even kneed me between the legs. When she stopped, all I felt was pain. She released the spell on me and I fell to the ground, too weak to stand. She kneeled by my side and smiled again, the same smile she’d given me when I first woke. ‘I’m going to enjoy you,’ she said, and left. It became a daily ritual. She’d come, smile at me and beat me. I lost consciousness a few times. But because of my healing magic, I would be healthy again by the next time she came. My life became pain, nothing but pain.”

  He points at dream-Crispin. “I tried to escape. This was the day after. She dragged me to this room, put a collar around my neck and shackled me to the wall. Because of the position of the collar, I had to sit in a half-bent position. It was agony. She’d managed to keep me in pain even while she wasn’t with me.”

  The door opens, interrupting him. I’m almost glad for the break. It’s unbearable to see him in pain, to hear what he had to go through. But on the other hand, I’m impressed that he’s actually telling me about it.

  A woman enters. That must be her. His creator. The Morrigan.

  She’s stunning. Sleek black hair falls to her waist, matching her charcoal eyes. Her skin is pale but radiant, the kind of ivory, flawless skin most women would kill for. Her high cheekbones give her a haughty look and her slightly curled lips only add to her majesty. She’s looking as much as a Queen as Beira does. But while Beira has a cold, detached air, the Morrigan exudes cruelty. She doesn’t reign with wisdom. She does it by force and punishment.

  “My little boy, how are you feeling?” She goes on her knees in front of dream-Crispin and draws a pale finger along his jaw, forcing him to look at her.

  He doesn’t respond, and I’m proud of him for showing this defiance despite being so weak.

  “I’m so glad you tried to escape. I thought I’d have to continue the beatings for even longer,” she says sweetly and he looks at her in confusion.

  “Oh yes, you were supposed to escape. It’s the sign that you are ready for the next stage of your training.”

  She snaps her fingers and Crispin’s collar falls off, releasing him. He crumples to the floor, stretching his back. He must be in agony after being in the same uncomfortable position for so long.

  The Morrigan smiles at him, but her eyes remain cruel.

  “I’m sorry I had to do this to you. It didn’t give me any pleasure. But you needed to understand pain. How could you give pain without first having felt it?”

  That bitch. I want to kill her, right here, right now, but of course that isn’t possible. This is a memory, not reality.

  Dream-Crispin is suddenly lifted from the floor until he’s floating upright.

  “Come with me, darling,” the Morrigan says, as if he has a choice. She leaves the room and he floats behind her, his expression making it obvious that he’s struggling against the hold she has on him. But of course, as one of the main Goddesses, she has a lot more power than any Guardian could ever hope to have.

  I turn to the real Crispin. Tears are running down his face.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” he whispers. “I don’t want to see what she did next. What I did.”

  I embrace him, putting as much warmth and love as I can into the hug. He’s hurting and I don’t want to see him in pain, but I also know it’s necessary. He needs to show me what happened. Even though I’m scared to find out what she did to him. She’s now number one on my to-kill list, even above Angus. If I ever meet her in person, it will
end in bloodshed.

  “Let’s do this together. You can do this. I’m so proud of you already.” I kiss him on the cheek. “Crispy.”

  Despite his tears, he chuckles.

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “What are you going to do to stop me?” I tease, hoping that he will play along.

  But he never gets the chance. A scream tears through the quiet and Crispin’s eyes widen. It wasn’t his voice. Someone else is screaming, another man.

  I take my Guardian’s hand and pull him with me, out of the room and along the corridor where the Morrigan walked not too long ago. When we come to a crossing, I look at Crispin, not knowing in which direction to turn. The screams have stopped so we can’t follow them.

  He sighs heavily and turns right, leading the way. We enter a large room, brightly lit. In the middle is a metal table and on it lies a man, naked, his wrists and ankles chained. The Morrigan is standing at the end of the table, smiling down on the man in front of her. Is she ever not smiling?

  Dream-Crispin is standing by her side, no longer hovering but looking as if he’s barely keeping himself upright. He’s definitely too weak to run and the Goddess knows that. He’s staring at the man with a strange expression. Is it… hate?

  “Do you recognise him, my darling?” the Morrigan asks dream-Crispin in her high-pitched voice.

  “He beat me,” he whispers hoarsely and she nods with an indulgent smile.

  “Yes, my dear, he beat you. What a terrible man. But now you can return the favour. You see, he did some bad things and I need to punish him. Will you help me?”

  She’s talking to Crispin as if he’s a child. Her fake smile is aggravating me and I want to wipe it off her perfect face. If only this was real.

  “It’s really easy. Push your magic into him until you feel his body like your own.”

  She puts an arm around dream-Crispin and leads him to the naked man’s side. My Guardian is wide-eyed, but he doesn’t resist her as she puts his right hand on the man’s stomach. The prisoner begins to struggle even more.

  “Close your eyes,” the Morrigan chirps and dream-Crispin does as she says.

 

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