by Lexi C. Foss
“I do,” I said, running my fingers over the gorgeous work of art. I chewed my lip as one hand went to my belly. Cyrus’s touch followed, his embrace warming me to my core.
“Hmm, but I think it’s missing something,” Exos said, stroking his jaw as he considered the room. “I think we need some earth.”
Sol studied the room, then rubbed his hands together before going to work on a cherry blossom tree in the corner opposite the fountain, adding a burst of pink to the overly blue room.
I inhaled the scent, my heart fluttering in response.
“And maybe some fire,” Exos added.
“On it,” Titus said, adding delicate embers that floated to the ceiling, capturing warmth like tiny little stars.
“And air,” Cyrus murmured, glancing at Vox.
The Air Fae grinned, his essence whirling upward to bring the whole scene together with a calming song humming on the wind, the ancient melody one that had my eyes drooping in sudden tiredness.
It’s a faeling nursery rhyme, he explained into my mind. It’ll calm our little one.
It’s calming me right now, I admitted.
Good, he replied. That means it’s working.
“This is… the most enchanting nursery I’ve ever seen,” I whispered, relaxing into Cyrus. “Thank you.”
My water mate lifted me with ease into his arms, my head pillowing against his shoulder. “Thank you, Claire,” he replied, kissing my temple. “You’re doing all the hard work. We’re just trying to help where we can.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
This didn’t feel all that hard.
In fact, it sort of felt like a dream. One I never wanted to wake from. So I closed my eyes and allowed it to overtake me.
I love you all, I said softly into their minds, yawning. I’ll show you just how much when I wake up.
A WEEK LATER
THERE WERE ingredients all over the damn kitchen.
I’d taken every single item out of the cupboards and shelves to see what I could possibly make for my mate that wouldn’t result in her losing her meal after five minutes—or, in last night’s case, before she’d even had a chance to ingest it.
“Maybe I should try a different type of peach tree,” Sol suggested as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was just as frustrated as I was about Claire’s latest pregnancy symptom.
We were in charge of Claire’s well-being while Titus dealt with his family and Cyrus went with Exos to make final arrangements for today’s meeting with the Hell Fae—something none of us were very keen about, especially now.
All the more reason for Claire to be nourished and at her best. And I had about an hour to make that happen.
I held up the remaining bag of grains I’d used to make porridge, something painfully simple and bland, but maybe she’d be able to keep it down. The bowl steamed on the counter, cooling while we waited for Claire to awaken. I hated to give my mate something so tasteless, but nothing else had worked yet, and I was determined to give her body something to keep up with her—literal—growing demands.
“Ugh. This isn’t going to work,” I said, slamming the package down. The bag burst open as my magic spiraled out of control—again—sending food and packages tumbling over the counter from a powerful gust of wind.
Sol frowned as a lump of troll fat tumbled onto the floor. “Maybe we should make a new dish and tell her it’s a popular human food? That worked last time, right?” he asked as he stomped over to the rubbery substance, the ground trembling in his wake. He plucked the fat from the floor and placed it back onto the counter with a mild smile. “She still eats it when we call it bacon.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s not going to fall for that again.” A whimper caught on the wind swirling through the hall, telling me Claire was awake again. I straightened and grabbed the bowl of porridge. “You woke her up with your stomping around.”
Sol followed me—still stomping—as I briskly walked with a lighter stride to the master bedroom. “Yeah, I’m sure the crash of food all over our kitchen had nothing to do with it,” he muttered back at me.
“What are you guys arguing about?” Claire moaned as she shifted within the bedsheets.
Fae, she was gorgeous, even more so now with that alluring curve to her belly. Her nightgown clung to her as she moved, revealing plump breasts with nipples hardening against the chill wind I’d brought into the room. I immediately found the warmer currents from higher in the rafters and began to bring them down.
Seeing Claire like this made my stomach do flips. The child would be born in roughly four or five weeks, and soon she would struggle to keep up with the accelerated growth of the faeling inside of her.
“Not too fast,” I warned her when she slipped her foot over the bedside and tried to stand. She stumbled, her sense of balance seeming to fail her—likely from lack of food.
She grabbed onto me.
“Oh,” she said, smiling when I caught her with ease, using a kiss of wind to wrap warm currents around her body so she wouldn’t be cold. Goose bumps sprinkled over her arms before she sighed into the embrace of my magic.
Sol took her elbow, steadying her until she waved us off, determined to stand on her own two feet. “Stop fussing. I can walk just fine.”
I narrowed my eyes at her as she swayed again.
“You need to keep up your strength,” I said. Her once flushed cheeks were now sunken in. Her golden locks had flattened after too much time rolling over her pillow, and when she turned, I spotted hints of her rib cage as her gown clung to her back. Her arms and legs had lost their lean tone, and I wasn’t the only one worried that she wasn’t getting the nutrition she needed.
I held up my latest effort—porridge. “Can you eat?”
She eyed the dish warily. “No spices?” she asked.
“None.”
She glanced at Sol. “No fruit… or fat?”
He smirked. “Neither fruit nor fat,” he confirmed.
She took the bowl and sat on the edge of the bed, staring into it. “I feel like I have a bowling ball in my stomach,” she muttered.
I smiled even though I had no idea what a bowling ball was. “Here,” I said, taking the spoon and offering her a bite. “Give it a try.”
She gently blew on it, although that wasn’t necessary. I used tendrils of air to run over the offering to make sure it was the perfect temperature before it reached her lips. She took the spoonful, tried to swallow, then clamped a hand over her mouth before making a strangled sound.
I snatched up the bowl before she flung it onto the floor, and she ran to the bathroom.
Sighing, I handed my failed attempt at a meal to Sol. “Could you get rid of this, please? And add porridge to the list of foods she can’t eat.”
Sol cocked a brow. “I think we’d have a shorter list of things she can eat.”
“When I find something, I’ll start one,” I replied flatly as I followed Claire and tried to think of something else she could stomach.
“WHERE ARE YOU?” Titus called, his voice drifting into the bedroom.
I leaned against Vox for support while I held a washcloth to my mouth. I didn’t like my mates seeing me in this state, but each of them had proved that they were going to be there for me through all of it.
If the last few days hadn’t run them off, then I was pretty sure nothing would.
“We’re in here,” Vox replied, his words carrying on the wind as he brushed hair from my sweat-dampened face. “Do you feel any better?” he asked, lowering his voice. His fingers continued to stroke my temple in calming circles, easing my constant sense of nausea.
“Some,” I said, although I definitely didn’t feel my best. Hunger constantly gnawed at me, but I couldn’t stomach any of this fae food. I didn’t want to admit to my guys that it might be a cultural thing. I’d lived here for years, but my instincts craved food from home, like caramel-coated popcorn and salted meats. My mouth watered just thinking of it, and Vox misunderstood the gro
an that came from my mouth.
“What hurts?” he asked, running his hands over me. “Should I fetch the Healer?”
I grabbed his hands and kissed his fingertips. “Vox, I’m fine. I’m just hungry, but I’ll survive.”
Titus poked his head into the bathroom. “Hey, nobody invited me to the bathroom party.” His eyes swept over my body, taking in my thin gown that did little to hide my curves or my breasts. His gaze lingered on the latter, appreciating how my nipples protested against the cool breeze he’d let into the warm room.
“I thought you were busy with Lance,” Vox said, his voice holding a note of irritation. Although, I had a feeling he was just angry at himself for failing to find me something to eat.
“He’s showing our parents the Fire Quad and his newly amassed row of Powerless Champion trophies,” Titus said, poorly hiding his displeasure at his younger brother’s success. The two of them were always at odds. It didn’t help that their parents clearly favored Lance and frequently commented on his ability to control his powers, thereby alluding to the one time Titus hadn’t.
Anyone else would have been miserable over the constant reminders of his failures.
But not Titus.
He had accepted his past a long time ago—before we’d even met—and lived his life the way he wanted to, without a care in the world as to what his parents thought of him.
I loved him for it. I also understood it because I, too, had once hurt those I cared about through an unexpected blast of power.
Titus slipped into the room and wrapped his arms around my torso, running his fingers over my enlarged belly, choosing to focus on me instead of his family quarrels. “How are you feeling today, Claire?”
“She’s weakened,” Vox snapped, not giving me a chance to respond. “If you’re done prancing around campus, why don’t you help me find her something to eat?”
“Don’t fight,” I sighed, glaring at him as I untangled myself from their wandering hands. “I’m just going to take a nap.”
“A nap?” Titus repeated. “You can’t take a nap.”
“Why not?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
They both stared at me for a moment. “You don’t remember?” Titus finally questioned.
“The meeting you had scheduled with the Hell Fae before the final vote?” Vox supplied when I blinked up at both of them, confused.
I tilted my head. “Meeting? That wasn’t until the end of the week, right?”
Titus and Vox shared a look before my Fire Fae replied, his words patient and slow. “It is the end of the week, Claire.”
What?!
Cursing, I jerked open one of the drawers and pulled out a hairbrush, then ripped it through my strands. As if the physical state of my pregnancy wasn’t bad enough, these damn memory gaps were going to be the death of me. “Well, that’s okay. I’ll just get myself together and…” I trailed off, searching for my toothbrush. Definitely going to need that.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Vox asked, his tone concerned. “We could reschedule.”
“Nope.” I yanked the hairbrush through an unruly patch of my hair, then tossed it onto the counter and started brushing my teeth.
Both of my mates watched me with unease, waiting for me to finish my rapid brushing.
“Cyrus has been working to bring me a Hell Fae representative for weeks,” I said after spitting out some of my toothpaste. “By the time we could meet with someone new, I’ll have a baby to deal with.”
And then that would take all my priority.
After the faeling came, the last thing I would be able to focus on would be forcing fae to work together. No, I couldn’t leave this job half-done before I became a mother.
Plus, what kind of world would I be bringing my baby into if I didn’t have the groundwork established for a place like the Interrealm Fae Academy? A place where my child would eventually be welcomed.
Not an abomination.
But a blessing.
Titus crossed his arms. “I still don’t like this, Claire. Hell Fae are fickle creatures at the best of times, and, well, just plain hell when they’re unhappy. They’re not going to want to work with us. Not after what the fae did to them.”
Ignoring him, I splashed cold water on my face. “They’re just misunderstood. I’m going to fix that.” It was one of the many reasons I wanted the Interrealm Fae Academy to exist—so none of fae kind experienced the torments the Hell Fae and other abominations had endured.
Once I’d dried my skin, Vox held up a concealer stick that Cyrus had picked up during one of his Human Realm trips, at my request. I liberally applied it to the dark spots under my eyes.
Vox said nothing while Titus leaned against the wall and watched as I tried to hide the evidence of my exhaustion.
“One false move and I’m burning them all,” he said, his tone lacking his trademark humor.
“Yeah, burn the Hell Fae. That’s a brilliant idea,” Vox deadpanned. “Not like they haven’t dealt with fire before.”
Titus frowned. “Then Cyrus will blast them into the ocean and drown them under leagues of water. I don’t care how it happens. If they mess with Claire, they’re dead. That’s all I’m saying.”
Vox tied his loose strands into his favored warrior’s tail as if preparing for a fight. “Agreed.”
With a sigh, I decided it would be a Christmas miracle if this meeting went even remotely as planned.
Speaking of Christmas…
“Hey, Titus?” I asked, going onto my tiptoes to lean into the mirror and apply my blush. If I got much bigger, I’d have to pick up my stomach to do this. “Do Hell Fae like Christmas presents?”
TITUS DIDN’T THINK it was a good idea, but really, who didn’t like presents?
I marched toward my office with my gift in hand, meticulously packaged with my best silver wrapping paper topped with a glimmering bow. Thanks to Titus, twinkling embers studded the exterior, giving it a smoldering look that I thought a Hell Fae might appreciate.
It felt good to step into my office, which Sol and Vox had perfectly redecorated. Gone were the autumn decorations of October, and in their place was a gorgeous white Christmas tree. It sprouted from the center of the room, a living creation courtesy of my earth mate. Glimmering stars and sparkles danced on a rotation around the ceiling as well, the current a loop created by Vox’s affinity for air.
I sighed in contentment. Because it really did feel like true Christmas magic.
However, one thing did not go with the festive, wintry decor, and that was the Hell Fae sitting in my chair with her legs propped up on the desk.
Cyrus shrugged when I came in. “It was the only way I could keep her waiting.”
“That’s all right,” I said, smiling. I’d erase the scorch marks from my chair later. I had a Fire Fae for a mate. Flames often happened around upholstery.
My mates all insisted on joining the meeting with the Hell Fae representative and surrounded me like a protective barrier. She didn’t look so terrifying, though. She had a warmth about her that reminded me of a Fire Fae, but that was where the similarities ended.
Horns protruded from glossy, midnight hair, and a disturbing growl rumbled in her chest as she swung her high-heeled knee-high boots off my desk. She glared up at me with eyes that glowed with ember red that had a sinister look to them as she tapped her manicured fingers across the wood.
“You’re late,” she stated, her tone flat with a hint of annoyance. However, I suspected my tardiness wasn’t the only thing that agitated her.
I put on my best smile and placed the gift on the desk. I held out a hand. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m Claire. And your name is?”
She stared at my hand for a moment, tapped her fingers on the desk again, and then pushed aside the gift she clearly didn’t care about. Her gaze dropped to my protruding stomach that stuck out between the layers of my council robes. “What is that?” she asked, lifting her lip into a sneer.
“Th
at is our child,” Cyrus said with an edge of warning to his tone. Water droplets formed in the air, a warning of his power. “You’d be wise to be respectful in our realm.”
Red streaks of molten power ran over her arms and writhed across her skin like a living entity in response to the threat. She rolled her eyes, kicked away from my desk, and stood on her high-heeled boots.
“And you’d be wise not to bring me out of my realm for this bullshit. I thought you said I was going to meet your queen of the five sources. I only came up here because Lucifer is intrigued by her naivety.” She crossed her arms and glowered. “So instead of trying to bore me with pleasantries, how about we get to the point and—”
A flare of heat made us all jump. I’d been so focused on the Hell Fae that I hadn’t noticed her brush against the Christmas tree. Hellfire spread throughout the delicate branches, igniting it like a matchstick. It roared with flames. Titus attempted to stop it, but his element didn’t work against the foreign fire.
“Cyrus!” he shouted, shoving me out of harm’s way. “Do something!”
Sparks of magic electrified at my fingertips, and a sharp kick hit me from inside. I gasped, realizing that I’d just felt my faeling for the first time, not because of excitement, but because of distress.
Cyrus doused the tree with a wave of water, leaving steam to fog the room as the stench of burned evergreen tinged my nose. Tears welled in my eyes when I saw my beautiful tree burned to a crisp. Hellfire didn’t hold back.
Sol immediately went to my side. “Don’t cry, little flower.”
He stroked my head with broad, sweeping movements as my cries morphed into sobs. It didn’t make sense that I’d get so upset about a burned tree, but it felt like a metaphor for my life.
No matter how hard I tried, everything just went up in flames.
It had always been that way for me. My first experience with fae magic had resulted in me burning down a bar with my friends still inside. Was this going to be what motherhood was like? Would I just be terrible at anything I tried to do? Would more people die because I couldn’t get my shit together?
