The Fae life of Benson McKee

Chapter 2: The Shadow Beneath The Light

Benson's POV

The weekend had come, and with it, my reluctant return home. The house loomed before me, cold and uninviting, an ornate mansion lined with stained glass windows and iron gates that stretched to contain the vastness of the MacKee estate. Despite its grandeur, a chill filled the place that had nothing to do with the weather.

As I pushed open the heavy front doors, the echoes of my footsteps seemed swallowed up by the sheer emptiness. My brothers’ laughter drifted from somewhere deeper inside, sounding almost foreign in a house that felt more like a fortress than a home.

I found Jared in the sitting room, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned over a chessboard, studying the pieces. The oldest of my brothers, Jared was always kind to me in a way that none of the others had ever been, his warm demeanor a rare exception to the cold indifference my father expected.

“Ben,” he said, looking up with a small smile. “Didn’t think I’d see you this weekend. School keeping you that busy?”

I shrugged. “It’s… something like that.”

His brow furrowed as he studied me. “Well, it’s good to see you anyway. The house is different without you.”

The comment surprised me. “Different?”

Jared nodded. “Less…” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Less alive.”

I couldn’t help but scoff softly. “Doesn’t feel that way to me.”

His eyes softened, a quiet understanding in his gaze, and he reached over to pat my shoulder. “You’re not like the rest of us, Benson. That’s not a bad thing.”

Before I could respond, our father’s voice boomed from somewhere nearby. Axel MacKee’s voice had a way of piercing through walls, sharp and unyielding, much like the man himself. “Jared, come to my study. Now.”

Jared squeezed my shoulder, a silent apology, before heading down the hallway. I followed at a distance, my curiosity piqued. Axel rarely held meetings at home, preferring the sterile walls of his office at the dust distribution center—a company that dealt in pixie dust, the highly prized, rare product of the fae world. It fueled his wealth, though it came at a cost I didn’t want to think about.

Just as Jared entered the study, I heard Axel’s voice, clipped and irritated, likely talking to someone over the phone. His tone was guarded, as if he knew he might be overheard. I hesitated in the hallway, the temptation too strong to resist.

“…no, she hasn’t been seen. And don’t bring this up again unless there’s something useful to report.”

There was a pause, and I pressed myself against the wall, my heart pounding.

“I don’t care what her intentions were. I stopped her, didn’t I? She’s not coming back—she made her choice.”

Another silence, then a sharp laugh that chilled me to the bone.

“No, he doesn’t know anything. And he never will.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Was he talking about my mother? Memories flickered in my mind, like ghostly shadows coming back to haunt me. I’d been young, but I remembered the day she left. The argument with my father, the slamming door, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. She’d wanted to leave, to take me with her, but Axel had stopped her somehow, and she disappeared soon after.

“What about the boy?” the voice on the phone continued, but Axel cut them off sharply.

“He’s nobody. Just a loose end.”

The words stung, but I forced myself to stay silent, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles turned white. I wasn’t surprised, exactly. My father had made it clear my entire life that he saw me as nothing more than an inconvenience. But hearing it so bluntly… it hurt.

As the conversation died down, I slipped away, hoping to avoid any interaction with Axel. I headed to the back of the house, where the pixies worked, cleaning and tending to the gardens. They were enslaved, most of them forced to serve families like mine, their wings clipped to keep them from fleeing. My heart ached for them; they were kind to me, some even like family. Their loyalty had kept me sane during the dark days after my mother’s disappearance.

“Benson, is that you?” a soft voice called from the garden’s edge. It was Maisie, a tiny, silver-haired pixie who’d been with us as long as I could remember.

“Hey, Maisie,” I replied, giving her a tired smile. Her own expression softened as she approached, her delicate wings quivering, though I could see the scars where they’d been cut.

“You look pale,” she observed, concern in her eyes. “What’s troubling you?”

I hesitated, not wanting to burden her with my own worries. But she’d always been a comforting presence, like a grandmother to me. “It’s… nothing. Just family stuff.”

Her expression grew sad, and she reached out to pat my hand. “Your mother would be proud of you, Benson. You’re kind, more than anyone here. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

Her words struck something deep within me. I remembered her, along with a few other pixies, comforting me after my mother left. While my brothers had closed ranks around Axel, treating me as if I were to blame, Maisie and the others had been there for me.

As I thanked her, Jared found me in the garden, his face troubled. “Ben, we need to talk.”

I followed him back to his room, feeling a strange mixture of dread and hope. Once inside, he closed the door, his expression softening as he looked at me. “I heard… something that might concern you.”

My heart sank, but I forced myself to nod. “I’m listening.”

Jared sat on the edge of his bed, patting the spot beside him. “Dad… he isn’t what you think. He’s made a lot of… choices. Choices that hurt people, and some choices that involve you.”

I stiffened, sensing where this was headed. “You mean… Mom?”

He nodded, his gaze heavy with sympathy. “Yes. There’s more to her story than you know, Ben. And it has to do with why she left, why… why things are the way they are now.”

I swallowed hard, emotions swirling within me. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you deserve to know. You’ve always been treated differently, Ben. The others don’t see it, but I do. And I think… I think you’re more important than any of us realize.”

I took a shaky breath, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “More important how?”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t quite have the answers. “That’s something you’ll have to find out for yourself. But know this, Ben: you’re not alone. Whatever you decide, whatever path you take… I’m with you.”

That night, as I lay in bed, every word I’d overheard between Axel and the faceless voice on the other end of that phone call echoed through my mind. The dismissive tone, the way he had spoken about my mother as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience to be erased, solidified what I’d feared for years. Axel didn’t just let her go; he made sure she would never come back. Rage bubbled within me, mixed with an aching sense of betrayal that left me hollow. My mother hadn’t abandoned me. Axel had taken her from me—whatever he’d done, whatever choice he’d forced on her, I was certain of it now. I could no longer sit in silence, wondering what could’ve been. I needed answers, and I vowed to find her, even if it meant unraveling every dark, tangled secret my father had buried.

The next morning, I found myself outside, staring across the expanse of the garden as the sun rose over the estate. I’d hoped for some clarity, some calm before Axel inevitably stormed in with his morning agenda. But when he arrived, all I felt was a tightening in my chest, a tension that seemed to grow sharper every time I was around him.

"Benson." His voice was clipped, almost a sneer, as he approached, arms crossed. "You’re here. I thought you’d be sulking around that school of yours, avoiding responsibility as usual."

I stiffened, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "I came home because I thought it mattered to you," I replied, a note of defiance slipping into my voice. I could feel the resentment simmering beneath the surface, but I pushed it down, refusing to let him see how much he affected me.

A harsh laugh escaped Axel’s lips. "Don’t be naive, Benson. It’s time you understood your place. You’re a MacKee, whether you like it or not. People like us are born to lead, to make sacrifices." His gaze darkened, settling on me with that familiar look of disdain. "And don’t think you’re exempt from that just because of some misguided sense of loyalty to those… pixies and other lowborn creatures you seem so fond of."

I felt my fists clench at my sides. He spoke about the pixies—about people—as if they were nothing more than tools. Like they were somehow less because of the lives they’d been forced into. "They’re people, not tools, Axel. They have lives, families. They’ve done nothing to deserve—”

“Deserve?” Axel cut me off, his voice dripping with contempt. "They’re fortunate to serve us. That’s the way of the world, Benson. That’s how we maintain power. How do you think we’ve kept the kingdom running all these years? By coddling those beneath us?"

I felt a bitter taste in my mouth as I looked at him, struggling to reconcile the part of me that still sought his approval with the part that despised everything he stood for. I had spent years hoping for a glimpse of the father I’d wanted him to be—a father who cared, who valued me beyond what I could do for him. But all I saw now was a man who would crush anything, anyone, to maintain his control.

"I don’t want to be like you, Axel," I said quietly, the words barely a whisper. "I don’t want to hurt people just to feel powerful. That’s not strength."

Axel’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as if my defiance had stung him. He took a step closer, his presence looming over me, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of fear. "Don’t get any ideas, Benson. Power is strength. Mercy is weakness." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You’re a disappointment, just like your mother. Always fighting the inevitable, always too soft."

The mention of my mother sent a sharp pang through me, and I could feel the anger rising again, pulsing with a life of its own. "You don’t know anything about her," I said, unable to keep the tremor from my voice. "You don’t know anything about me, either."

Axel straightened, his face twisted in disgust. "I know enough. Enough to know you’ll never be the son I need you to be. You’re weak, Benson. Soft. A real MacKee would understand that sacrifices have to be made, whether it’s slaves, or family, or anyone else who gets in the way."

The finality in his tone crushed any lingering hope that he might ever see me as more than a disappointment. I felt my resolve harden, a quiet vow building within me as I stared at him, unflinching. He might have taken my mother from me, but he would not break me.