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?
The self-doubt only made me sob harder, and I couldn’t explain it to my mates, who were all trying to control the situation.
Sol shoved me into Cyrus’s grip. “Fix this,” he demanded while he went to the tree and worked an excessive show of magic, forcing the branches to warp and change as he brought it back to life.
Vox helped him, brushing away the ash into the cracks in the ground as the revived tree took shape. Exos grabbed the Hell Fae’s arm and pulled her aside before she could burn anything else. She hissed at him, which would have been comical had I not been holding on to Cyrus like a hysterical loon crying over a tree Sol was already reviving.
It’s okay, little queen. He’s fixing it. He brushed his lips against my temple. Shh, it’s okay.
His words only made me cry more.
Then Sol finished, and the tree was fuller, larger, and even more beautiful than before. The unique, white-feathered branches brushed the ceiling as Vox sent glitter and sparkles to dance around it. Titus snapped his fingers, creating a delicate blue glow to illuminate the top.
And my sobs increased.
It was just so sweet, and all of it was so, so beautiful. My mates would do anything to make me happy, even if it was something frivolous like fixing a Christmas tree.
And oh, I didn’t deserve them.
Or any of this.
I couldn’t even eat porridge right!
The Hell Fae gawked at me before glancing questioningly at Exos. I saw him mouth, “Pregnancy hormones,” before she smirked.
I should have been mad, but I didn’t care. I knew I was being unreasonably emotional. But what did they expect? I was growing a faeling in nine weeks. Not months. Weeks.
“Why are you still crying, little flower?” Sol asked, coming back to brush the tears from my face while I clung to Cyrus like a lifeline.
“It’s just so beautiful,” I said, smiling now as the tears continued to come, but this time they were tears of happiness. “Thank you.” Then I looked at Cyrus. “Nine weeks. How did you expect me to do this in nine weeks?”
He blinked. “Claire…”
“No, this is your fault!” I pointed to my belly, then melted as the little faeling kicked again. “Oh my Fae, it’s so cute. Did you feel that?”
“I did,” Cyrus replied, his palm against my stomach and his lips curling. “Do it again,” he encouraged, a note of wonder in his voice.
I relaxed into him, content.