by Lexi C. Foss
I drew in a delighted gasp as Sol took me out into the open and a snowflake landed on my lips.
Winter.
Not just the fake kind with my attempts at springy cotton strewn about my office. Real snow landed in puffy balls all around me, making me feel like I’d stepped into the center of a snow globe.
This was what I’d been missing.
The cold drifted around me with its welcome embrace, and the coat Exos had given me did a good job of keeping me warm. I tucked my chin into the fur’s edge and smiled.
Carolers strolled along the street, their songs highlighting the festive ambience. It made me want to dance and sing along with them. “Oh, Sol, put me down,” I begged.
He appeased me, but not without a warning frown. “If you stumble, I’m picking you up again.”
I promised him I’d be fine while I crunched my way through the snow, now grateful for the boots Cyrus had insisted I put on earlier. They weren’t practical in the Elemental Fae realm, but now I understood why he’d wanted me to wear them.
“Your surprise is this way,” Cyrus said with a smirk.
“This isn’t the surprise?” I asked, my eyes wide. Just being here meant the world to me.
Titus rolled his eyes as if my question insulted him. “Please. Do you think just a realm jump is all we had in mind?” He took my hand and guided me down the street, ignoring the humans that stared at us. While my fae could technically blend in, they couldn’t hide how otherworldly and freaking gorgeous they were.
“They’re staring at you, not us,” Cyrus corrected me, hearing the direction my thoughts had gone.
The side of my mouth lifted up in a wry grin. “Because I’m starting to look like a snowball with this growing stomach?” I guessed. “I’m painfully aware of how big I’m getting. You all have been kind not to comment on it.”
Cyrus rested a hand on my belly, his love seeping through me along with his magic. “Everyone is watching you because you’re radiant, Claire.”
Agreement surged through my mate-bonds, reassuring me that I wasn’t the walking marshmallow I envisioned myself to be. To my mates, I was the picture of beauty and fertility. That thought made me lift my chin with pride.
When we passed through the main streets from downtown into the more rural area, puddles formed where the city had oversalted—something about my hometown I’d forgotten.
Sol held out a hand, stopping me before I stepped into one of them by accident. Then he glanced at a car that blocked the higher ground and stormed up to it, gripped it from the bottom, and lifted it over his head.
“Sol!” I shrieked while Cyrus rubbed his temples.
My earth mate blinked at me. “What?”
Vox glanced around before sending a gust of wind magic to push the car off of Sol’s shoulder. It looked as if it might crash to the ground, but Cyrus swept a layer of snow underneath it to cushion the blow.
Exos patted Sol on the shoulder, my Earth Fae mate still confused about what had just happened.
“There are rules in the Human Realm,” Exos explained, his words holding more patience to them than I had right now. The last thing I wanted was for interrealm laws to be broken when I was about to give birth.
The consequences were dire—a necessary measure to keep fae from revealing themselves to non-fae species.
The Human Realm was one of the last remaining neutral zones. Thus, fae valued humans in a variety of ways, and many of those benefits would be in jeopardy if the non-fae ever found out how they were being used.
It was a bit strange to think that way since I used to be human. Well, I wasn’t truly human. But half-human and unaware of my heritage.
Anyway, the train of thought was so natural now, when it used to be quite foreign.
But maybe humans shouldn’t be taken advantage of so—
Relax, Cyrus demanded in my thoughts, the word an order. You’re here to rest, not to devise more political schemes.
I glowered at him. “I am relaxed,” I said out loud and stormed through the puddle. I could rest and scheme at the same time.
Cyrus whispered the puddle away from my steps, casting it out like a mini tidal wave that froze in beautiful arcs.
I rolled my eyes. “Now who’s risking breaking interrealm laws?”
“Nobody’s around,” he said, his voice cheery as he guided our little group around the corner. “That’s why we picked it. We want you all to ourselves.”
I gasped when I spotted what he meant. A darling cottage rested at the end of a long trail of snow, filled with a field of browned cornstalks in neat rows behind it.
“Do you like it?” Cyrus asked.
Tears filled my eyes and tumbled over my cheeks. I sniffled and wiped them away with the back of my hand, but they kept coming and soaked into the fur lining of my coat. “Oh, Cyrus—all of you. Yes! Yes, of course I love it.”
“She’s crying again,” Sol said, sounding distressed. “I don’t like it when you cry, little flower.”
“I’m fine,” I promised, slipping my hand into his and giving him a squeeze. “Really. These are happy tears.”
My mates stood around me like a protective barrier, blocking off the harsh wind that slipped through the open area. Cyrus didn’t look convinced that I was okay; he didn’t like my tears, either, but he didn’t chide me for it, and we all walked to the cottage.
This felt right.
A jump inside my stomach agreed, making fresh tears come as I realized that the first things my faeling would experience would be all the things I loved about home.
A FEW DAYS LATER
I HELD up the strange leafy cone Claire had given me. She claimed she was going to teach Vox how to cook it, but it didn’t look all that edible. “What’s this called again?” I asked, testing it with my teeth. It gave way with a hard crunch.
“Sol!” Claire cried out, grappling at my arm and snatching the leafy cone from my grip. She bounced back onto her stool we’d brought into the kitchen so she could stay off her feet while she showed us human food. “You have to peel the husk, first,” she instructed as she ripped off one of the sides, revealing a strange, yellowish, pebbled texture underneath.
I lifted one lip. “It looked better with the leafy cone.”
Claire giggled at me. “It’s corn, silly,” she said as she took a white, oily stick from the refrigerator and swiped it over the corn.
I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Vox, who just shrugged. “So, is this popper corn?” I asked, looking over her shoulder. “You’d mentioned something about that for snacking.” I liked snacks.
She pointed at a canister on the counter. “No. That’s popcorn in the tin.” She bit her lip. “I hope that one’s fresh. I know you just picked it up from the store, but can you check the date on the bottom, Vox?”
He did as instructed, picking up the canister and peering underneath it. “I see some squiggly numbers.”
Claire asked about the last two, which she said indicated the year, and determined it would be safe to eat.
Curious how this popper corn would taste, I left Claire lathering her yellow pebble cone with the white stick while I opened the canister and chomped on a handful of the stuff. This time the crunch was even louder, but the taste was satisfying.
“No, Sol.” Claire choked on a laugh, nearly toppling over her stool as she tried to jump to her feet. She grabbed her stomach, her instincts seeming to kick in to protect the baby from the nearby counter. “You’re supposed to pop it, first.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t eat any more of your ingredients,” Vox promised, guiding her back to her seat before giving me a glare.
“How was I supposed to know? I don’t even understand how these things pop?” I complained.
“Stop stressing her out, you walking mountain,” he muttered. “You’re ruining it.”
“Am not,” I grumbled back, earning a curious glance from Claire.
“Of course you’re not,” she said, smiling cheerfully. “
Can you fill up that pot, Vox? The cobs are ready to boil.”
Vox gave me one more glare before he shoved a pot under the faucet and filled it. “This is for boiling the corn sticks? And then we’ll have a separate pot for the ones we have to pop?”
She chuckled, although I wasn’t sure what she found funny. “Yep.”
I folded my hands in front of me and stood in the corner, resisting the urge to eat more of the raw popper corn. It had tasted just fine to me. Not sure why it needed popping.
I zoned out while Vox and Claire worked, and instead listened in on Cyrus and Exos arguing in the background about the Hell Fae, with Titus adding his loud opinions—ones I matched.
Even though they had enough fae to support the Interrealm Fae Academy vote, Cyrus was insistent on needing the Hell Fae support. I understood why—to make Claire happy. But she didn’t get how horrible those fae could be. They kidnapped their potential mates and forced them into deadly competition with each other. How could Claire want to be involved with beings like that?
I might not understand all of the ins and outs of interrealm politics like Cyrus and Exos did, but even I knew they were bad news. I had no interest in working with creatures like the Hell Fae and would rather smash their faces in for making our mate cry.
But Claire had a heart of gold.
And this was what she wanted.
Hence, the debate in the other room.
My nostrils twitched when I smelled something burning. I turned to find that the peeled leafy husks had gotten too close to the hot coils and were now on fire. My mate was the clumsy sort, but powerful in her elements, so I didn’t jump to her rescue.
Except she didn’t use her fire magic at all, and instead she yelped in pain.
I stormed to her side, knocking over the dining room furniture in my way.
“Claire!” Vox yelled, sending his wind magic to push the flames down, working at them until they were sufficiently extinguished.
Claire hissed and stumbled into me, holding her arm as angry red splotches streaked across her skin.
I blinked. It burned her?
How was that even possible? She was one with the elements. Flames played over her skin all the time.
My chest began to burn, my lungs refusing to work. Panic, I recognized. I’m… panicking.
Shit!
The rest of our mate-circle practically ran into the kitchen, having overheard the commotion.
“What’s wrong?” Cyrus demanded, his authoritative tone requiring answers. He rushed to Claire’s side and saw the damage for himself. He glared up at me as if I were to blame. “How’d this happen?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I hadn’t acted, leaving an opportunity for Claire to be injured. “It’s… it’s my fault,” I finally managed to stammer out, my heart cracking in my chest. I failed my mate.
“It’s nobody’s fault,” Claire interjected. “Well, nobody’s fault but mine.” She hissed when Cyrus sent tepid water over the burn, then relaxed as her skin began to magically heal through whatever royal voodoo he used to help her.
Titus frowned. “You need a Healer, Claire.”
She shook her head as fresh tears came, causing my gut to twist in agony right along with her. “Claire—”
“I don’t want to go back so soon,” she said, cutting me off. “We’ve only been here a few days and—”
“Why didn’t you use your magic?” Titus asked, his tone harsher than usual. He never interrupted Claire, but the anger in his gaze burned like hot embers. However, his rage didn’t appear to be for her so much as for himself. It was his element that had caused her harm, and he hadn’t been watching over her when it’d happened.
That was something I could relate to.
She bit her lip, then looked down.
“What is it, little flower?” I pressed, cupping her chin and lifting her gaze to look at me.
Her resignation stared back at me.
“My powers…,” she began, then the tears came again. She sniffled and straightened, as if determined not to cry. “Nothing’s wrong. I would know if something was wrong. I didn’t want to worry you, I just...”
“You’re rambling,” Exos said, crossing his arms. “Start from the beginning, Claire. What’s wrong with your powers? They’re not working, right?”
“Not working?” I repeated.
“We talked about the possibility a few nights before leaving for the Human Realm,” Titus explained. “But I think this is sufficient proof of our suspicions.”
“You suspected her elements weren’t working and didn’t tell me?” My eyes widened. “What the fuck, Titus?”
“You were with Claire when we discussed it,” Vox murmured. “And then I forgot to tell you about it. We were so consumed by the trip that…” He trailed off, his silver-rimmed black irises catching mine. “I’m sorry, Sol. I’ve been distracted.”
“We’ve all been distracted,” Exos murmured, his gaze on a trembling Claire. “When did you lose access to your elements?”
“I-I haven’t been able to access the source since I became pregnant. And sometimes… I think… I think sometimes power is sort of coming out of me without my permission. Like the fire cupcake.” Her hand fell to her stomach, running over it with a large, circular caress. The motion seemed natural, protective. “I think the faeling is blocking my powers somehow, but you said strange things could happen, right? I’m a Halfling, and nobody knows what to expect during a half-human, half-fae pregnancy.”
Titus frowned. He liked this just about as much as I did. “You should have told us.”
Her lower lip quivered, and I wrapped my arm around her, wanting to soothe her and throttle her at the same time.
It was just like our mate not to confide in us over something she would consider trivial. Or something she thought she was protecting us from.
“It’s our job to protect you, little flower,” I told her, squeezing a little. “We can’t do that if you don’t talk to us about life-threatening things.” I glared at the others. “And you all are just as bad. If I’d known about your suspicions, I would have put out the damn fire.”
“Vox already apologized,” Exos said, ever the politician. “We should have told you. I’m sorry, too. But it’s all out in the open now, right? Or is there more you need to tell us, Claire?”
“I just didn’t want you all to worry,” she mumbled, then looked up at me. “And I didn’t want you to look at me like… like that. Like something’s wrong with me.”
I smiled and cupped her chin again. “We love you, Claire. We just want to make sure you and the faeling are okay. That’s all.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Maybe… maybe I could visit a human doctor?”
Titus sighed. “I think a Healer would be better.”
Cyrus considered Titus and then Claire. “Actually, I think a human doctor might not be a bad idea. It’ll continue to soothe Claire’s human side, which I think we all can agree is working. What can it hurt?”
He took Claire’s hand, leading her into his embrace. I let her go, knowing that Cyrus would know exactly what to say to make her feel better.
He tugged her hair around her ears, hiding the pointy ends that gave away her fae lineage. “And if you want to use human technology to tell us the gender, I think that would be an amazing Christmas present.” Cyrus must have picked that thought out of her head, because her eyes sparkled with excitement and understanding. He kissed her on the forehead, and I relaxed as her frown tilted upward into a smile.
“We can find out the gender?” Vox asked, a hopeful note in his voice.
“Yes,” Claire whispered.
“Is that what you want, baby?” Exos cupped her cheek. “Do you want to know the gender?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I do.”
“Then so do we,” Titus said, his gaze raking across the group to search for any disagreements. He sure as shit wasn’t going to get one from me.
Excitement
had replaced the discord in the mate-circle.
And that improved everything.
Is it a girl or a boy? I wondered, looking at her belly. I wanted it to be a girl. Preferably, a little fae sproutling who would one day blossom into a woman just as beautiful as her mother.
Or maybe that was what I wanted for us.
One day, I promised myself. One day, we’ll have a little girl.
I felt certain of it, my lips curling into a grin.
Claire caught my look, her own mouth rivaling mine. I would love that, she told me softly.
Me, too, little flower. Me, too.
CYRUS HELPED me out of the rental car—one he’d picked up just yesterday on the off chance we’d need it—and escorted me into the hospital. He’d already said if the doctor found anything wrong, he’d immediately mist me back to the Elemental Fae realm—interrealm laws be damned.
I hoped it wouldn’t come to that and instead filled myself with positivity and good thoughts as we walked through the massive hospital reception area.
Most people didn’t like hospitals, but I found it amazing that there was a place I could go to and there’d instantly be people ready to help me. There was something to be said about human compassion.
Titus led the way while straightening the Santa hat I had gotten for him earlier at the store.
I tugged the white ball and grinned at him. “You sure do make a handsome fire elf.”
He glowered. “Don’t push it, Claire. The hat is humiliating enough with a ball dangling in front of my face.” He blew the puff out of his way, glancing at a smirking Cyrus.
The guys had thought Titus should wear the hat to keep the Christmas cheer going. My fire mate clearly didn’t approve, which only seemed to amuse me, not upset me.
Yeah, pregnancy hormones were insane.
I sort of loved them.
A receptionist greeted us and helpfully pointed us down the hall.
Scheduling an appointment hadn’t been easy, but there were benefits to having powerful mates. Exos had already established connections in Ohio prior to our arrival, knowing this visit might be needed. He’d also prepared for the potential birth—which I would want in a hospital, not at home. I loved that he thought ahead like that and that he’d do anything he could to make sure my wishes were granted.
