The Fae life of Benson McKee

Chapter 5: Tell Me You Want Me

*Rainer’s POV*

You want to know why I did it, why I put Benson in his place? Why I made sure he remembered he didn’t belong, that he would never belong? It’s simple, really. People like Benson, they just don’t understand their limits. He never knew his place, never knew where he stood in the grand scheme of things, so someone had to remind him. Someone had to put him back where he belongs—beneath me. But maybe you need to know a little more to understand why I loathe him, why he makes my skin crawl every time I see him.

My name is Rainer D. Marigold, son of the House of Marigold, one of the oldest and most powerful families in the Healing Kingdom. My family’s been close to the King for generations, not only because we’re part of the elite but because we keep the kingdom’s gears well-oiled and running. My mother, Lady Selena Marigold, is a distant cousin to the King’s new wife. My father, Lord Marigold, handles alliances and keeps trade routes open, while I, well… I keep everything else in line, keep the people in line. As a Marigold, I was born into power. It’s in my blood, my legacy. People respect me, and they should. There’s a hierarchy in this world, and I am at the top.

But then, there’s Benson—Benson MacKee, the freak. He’s a stain, a constant reminder of everything that shouldn’t exist in this kingdom. A silver-haired, blue-eyed mistake, a bastard who should’ve been thrown out of the Healing Kingdom the day he was born. People like him? They’re not meant to walk among us, not meant to breathe the same air, let alone think they can stand on equal ground. Benson is nothing. A complication. And yet, Raylee… Raylee has always had eyes only for him.

Let me tell you about the first time I knew something was wrong. We were five. I was the kid everyone admired, the one with golden hair, honey-colored eyes, and a natural talent that made everyone say I was bound for greatness. Raylee and I were close back then—fated, really, even though we were too young to understand what that meant. But one day, that changed. I’d come to the garden, proudly clutching a basket of cookies my mother and I had made, the best fairy cookies in the kingdom. I wanted Raylee to see them, to tell me they were better than anyone else’s. I wanted her attention.

But when I got there, she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at Benson. That scrawny little freak with his silver hair and those weird blue eyes. He was holding a cookie in his hand, something he’d clumsily baked with his mother, and Raylee… she actually took it. Ignored mine, ignored everything I’d been waiting to show her, and took his instead. She smiled at him, laughed with him. He had her attention, her laughter, her… her everything.

So, I did what any five-year-old would. I walked right up to him and laughed, told him his cookies were pathetic, just like him. I told him he didn’t belong here, with his stupid silver hair and eyes that looked like ice, that he was nothing compared to me. I thought he’d run off, maybe cry like the weakling he was. But he just stared at me, as if he didn’t understand. And Raylee? She just looked at me with disappointment in her eyes. Me, Rainer Marigold, the one who would be her fated mate someday. That day set everything in motion.

Over the years, I watched them grow closer, watched Raylee treat him like he was someone special. She kept him in her life, no matter how many times I tried to pull her away. I kept my distance, bided my time, knowing that when the time came, when we were older, Raylee would come to her senses. She would understand who I was, who I am to her, and Benson would be nothing but a bad memory. That was the plan.

But as we got older, something became painfully clear: Raylee’s feelings for Benson only deepened. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, she kept looking at him with those same soft eyes, the same ones she had when we were kids. And Benson, oblivious and idiotic, kept taking it all for granted, acting like he had any right to be by her side. He didn’t see her worth. He didn’t see her the way I did. He didn’t deserve her. Yet she kept choosing him.

So, when I saw them in the courtyard that night, I knew it was time to take matters into my own hands. I’d been looking for her, planning to surprise her with something grand—a gesture, a reminder of what we shared, what we were fated to become. And there he was. Benson, standing too close, his hand brushing hers. He was talking in that pathetic, pleading voice, begging her to stay, to choose him. I watched from the shadows, disgusted, as he leaned in, his lips hovering near hers, as if he thought he had any right.

"Raylee, wait! Talk to me!" he called, his voice raw and desperate, like he had something to offer her. Like he was worthy of her. Raylee stopped. She stopped for him, the same way she did when we were kids, the same way she always did.

“What do you want from me, Ben?” she whispered, her voice filled with something I didn’t want to name. Benson stepped closer, his eyes soft, his hand reaching out to hers. "I want you to stop running,” he said. “Don’t ask me to pretend this isn’t happening.”

I wanted to scream, to walk up to him and tear him away from her. She turned, tears brimming in her eyes, and every part of me wanted to step in, to grab her hand, to remind her of who she was supposed to be with. But I didn’t. I waited, watching, my anger simmering like a fire ready to consume me.

And then, he touched her, brushing his thumb across her cheek, like he had any right. “I want you, Raylee. Tell me I’m not alone in that.” The words twisted in my gut like a knife, watching her face soften, her resolve crumble. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t tell him no. Instead, she leaned into him, her lips meeting his, her body melting against him.

That was it. That was the final insult.

I confronted him that night, found him when he was alone. He had this smug look on his face, as if he’d won some prize, as if he’d taken something from me. And maybe he thought he had. But I knew better.

I walked up to him, calm and controlled, every inch the future king I was meant to be. “You freak,” I spat, letting the insult cut through the air like a blade. I could feel the magic coiling within me, a power I’d been taught to master, to control. But that night, I didn’t care. Benson needed a reminder.

His smirk faded as he realized what was coming. Before he could react, I let the magic surge, a controlled burst that knocked him off his feet, sending him sprawling to the ground. He stared up at me, eyes wide with a fear he couldn’t hide.

My magic was something he couldn't understand sure all healing kingdom Fae could master healing magic but only highborn could use that same magic and channel it into something else. And since this freak was neither, he could never be on my level.

“You think you’re something special, don’t you?” I hissed, stepping closer. “You think you belong here, with us? With Raylee?” He didn’t answer, but his jaw clenched, and I saw that familiar defiance in his eyes.

“You’re nothing,” I said, each word laced with venom. “A freak. An outsider. A mistake.” I leaned down, letting my voice drop to a low, dangerous whisper. “And Raylee? She’s mine. She’s always been mine, and she always will be.”

He glared up at me, that stupid, stubborn look in his eyes, like he thought he could stand up to me. “She’ll never be yours,” he managed, his voice weak but defiant. “She’ll always want me.”

That did it. I didn’t even think. I raised my hand, letting the magic flare around me, crackling in the air like a storm. A pulse of energy shot from my fingertips, hitting him square in the chest and knocking him back, hard. He crashed to the ground, coughing, gasping for air, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to feel every ounce of pain, every shred of humiliation.

I leaned down over him, my face inches from his. “Remember this, Benson. You’re nothing but a freak. And you’ll always be beneath me.”

With that, I left him there, a crumpled heap on the ground, where he belonged. The stupid little freak passed out. Can you believe it. He’d crossed too many lines, and taken too much from me, and it was time he learned his place. I could feel the weight of my family’s expectations on my shoulders, the legacy I was meant to uphold. The Marigold name, my bloodline—it meant something, something Benson would never understand.

I turned to Raylee, my expression shifting from anger to something sharper, something vulnerable beneath the arrogance. I took a step closer, my eyes searching hers, a flicker of desperation breaking through.

"Raylee," my voice dropping to a rough whisper that only she could hear, "Do you want him? Benson? After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done… you’re choosing him over me?"

"Tell me," I reaching out to touch her arm, my fingers lingering just above her skin as if afraid to bridge the distance. "Tell me you want me? and not... him?"

"You Know where I stand Rainer, don't be irrational! I'm only with you because of daddy." She turns back to Benson tears frame her beautiful green eyes.

She would come around, eventually. She was fated to me, not to him. And one day, she’d understand that. One day, she’d see Benson for the worthless, broken creature he truly was.

Until then, I’d make sure he stayed out of my way or else.