Recent content by Fingal

Fingal stood at the edge of the tub, the steam rising around him in soft curling threads. Her open hand and quiet command held him still for a moment. He met her gaze, something fragile flickering there before he bowed his head. He stood unsteadily, bare and breathless, one hand braced on the...

The old song slipped through the dim cottage like a thread of silver, soft and low, weaving itself around the crackle of the fire. Fingal’s ears twitched at the sound. A hundred memories stirred in him at once. He collected stories and poems for his master. He wouldn't collect this one. He let...

Fingal let himself sink into the warmth of the blankets as Anais settled beside him. The fire’s glow washed over her skin, softening the tight worry lines at the corners of her eyes. He felt the shift in her breathing, the steadiness returning as purpose replaced panic. When she guided his...

Fingal stepped into the cottage beside her, his paws silent on the boards and his nose working ceaselessly. Dust. Old smoke. Dry herbs. No rot. No daemon scent. His ears pricked at every creak of settling timber, every shift of wind outside. Nothing made a sound. Safe enough to rest. For now...

For a moment Fingal could not understand the words she spoke. The world was still tilting beneath him, heavy with the stench of burnt magic, his senses warped by the demon’s poison slowly webbing from his veins. Her binding words - old as starlight - still circled them in a trembling loop of...

For a heartbeat, Fingal’s world was nothing but pressure. It felt as though something vast and unseen had sunk claws into his spirit, dragging him between two worlds. His magic convulsed, raw and unbound, tearing through him in jagged waves. The words she spoke found him through that storm...

For a long, terrible moment there was nothing. Only the whisper of her voice, the hammering of her heart, and the shallow stillness of his chest. Then Fingal gasped. It was not a clean sound but a ragged, tearing drag of breath, wet and painful. His back arched as if pulled by invisible...

Fingal staggered, his breath caught in his throat as the iron poker twisted in the demon’s coil of black flesh. Pain flared, sharp and white-hot. The world narrowed to the sound of his own ragged inhale, the metallic tang of his blood, and the distant hum of the creature’s unnatural voice...

Fingal lunged without thought, every muscle coiled and trembling. The creature’s keening shriek rattled his bones, but instinct took over before fear could root him to the spot. Its claws forced him back, but another weighty chunk of rusted iron struck it hard. It gave him an opening. The...

Fingal could almost feel every muscle vibrate beneath his skin. He could have run. He could have changed form and fled and tested his speed against the demon. Except he might not have been chased. The creature would probably stop to kill Anais or drag her away for whatever the demons were...

Fingal stood in the centre of the forge, as far from any iron as he could be. It rang through his mind like a bell. Metal upon metal. It took a great deal to bring him so close to so much iron. It was in the air as well. He could taste it. Fingal's hand trembled as he reached for the poker...

Fingal didn't say anything. They couldn't stop and hold court. His mind raced through a hundred things to say, because he had always been a talker. He wished he wasn't. He would give up every story, negotiating tactic and his skill as a lover. All to be a fierce fae warrior. A black Shuck or a...

Fingal winced at the thought of a blacksmith. All that iron. On the walls and on the ground and in the air. Selfishly, he hadn't been thinking about the occupants of the town. He glanced around. They could have hidden the children in a basement, the signs of their fate a display of gore...

Fingal's sense of smell was far more acute. He had to force himself not to heave and gag. As she stepped back, he forcefully grasped the outside of her arms and held her firm. He gently turned her to continue down the corridor. He went straight past the next door at the scent of flesh that had...

Even though he was back in human shape, all his hairs stood on end. He had seen so many different things, but every sense cried out for how wrong the creature was. Fingal was afraid. It wasn't fear that something could happen or that he would be hurt. It was a gut wrenching fear at the...