by E E Everly
FORTY
I throw myself into Thandoran’s arms as soon as I see him. After my long day, he’s more delicious than a storm sprite can imagine.
An ache dips into my belly as his arms tighten around me.
I moan, mentally, and breathe in his citrusy scent. My fingers lift to the base of his hairline and tickle him there.
His soft scruff slides along my cheek as he pulls away, but not without him making a wanting groan. “Well, how are you feeling?” His voice is thick. His Adam’s apple bobs. He cradles my head, and then he feels my back and touches my shoulders and assesses every inch of me as if I might shrivel to a husk.
“I’m fine.” Fingers crossed. Last time the sickness hit fast.
Kaelea’s curled up on a blanket, with her two babies tucked next to her. Isac immediately checks on all three of them. His earnestness is sweet.
As Thandoran leans in to me, I smile and glance around. Home. The crysalant trees are in bloom, with their big orange plumes hanging halfway to the ground. The fragrance is like sugared plumberries. I hum, and my eyes follow the rush of the river past where we are. Little flicka faeries dance from woody reed to reed.
I spin and laugh.
Thandoran turns me into his arms and grins. “It worked?” His relief sinks his shoulders.
I nod. But my stomach lurches. My hand flies to my mouth, and I push away from Thandoran. I race to a bush, where I heave everything out of my stomach.
“No.” Thandoran’s by my side in two seconds. Isac jumps to his feet. Kaelea wakes and stares with worried eyes.
I wipe my mouth on a tofa leaf. “It’s the morning sickness.”
“You sure?” Thandoran studies my face, hard. His hand flicks to my brow and slides wisps of hair off my forehead.
“I can try the counter curse again if you wish,” Isac says.
“No.” I wave him off and snort. “What can I do about morning sickness when ambrosia doesn’t work here?” Crud. So much for taking advantage of my heightened-bliss state with Thandoran.
We’ll just have to make our own euphoria. I can manage that.
Thandoran laughs. “Maybe we should spend your pregnancy on Earth.”
I shake my head. “Nah uh.” I put my foot down. I’m home. I am not leaving.
Thandoran helps me up. We gather our gear and the babies.
“We have fluwha juice. That will help,” Kaelea says.
The four of us stand side by side, staring at the city. My Kili is there. And my mother. And a new beginning.
We unfurl our wings. Three of us with shimmering fae wings, energy that lifts us off our feet. The edges are scalloped and the tails reach to the ground.
Isac’s wings are black and bold. They’re glossy, and more than just energy—a tangible darkness. Menacing, yet ethereal. Kaelea gives him an impish smile.
I giggle.
When I turn to Thandoran, I almost gasp. Though blue, his wings have an auburn sheen, and they add a glow to his skin that races my heart.
Then I see the look on his face. His wide eyes. The lust behind them. The slight part of his lips. This is the first time I’ve officially shown him my wings. He grabs my hand as we hover together. His skin is hot, so hot I have to send him a blast of chill.
There will be time for more sizzle later.
Thandoran smirks as if he read my mind. His eyes hold their smoldering, hungry look.
He’s breathtaking. So breathtaking I can’t believe he’s mine. All the fire and all the storm wrapped up in one.
My Thandoran. My storm sprite.
E.E. EVERLY
once trampled through the Appalachian woods and built forts in bramble bushes. She loves the sun in winter and the rain in summer. She believes in miracles, the power of love, and magic. Other worlds do exist, and her writing opens portals to them. Cake is always to be savored, and her soul animal is a cat. Meow.
