Chapter 7
WHEN THE COMMANDER GIVES YOU LEMONS
Twelve Years Later
“Mama, look.” Round, radiant grey eyes look up at me from beneath thick dark lashes.
His father’s eyes. Even though he is uniquely himself, my son encapsulates the gruff, demanding man who sired him.
A face I created from my womb, pure innocence and love shining from his chubby five-year-old cheeks.
He is growing too fast, and I dread every moment he gets closer to his transition into manhood.
“What did you find, sweet boy?” His smile grows wide, showcasing a missing tooth.
“A worm.” He points in astonishment at the pinkish creature he found in our garden soil.
When I arrived in Halo twelve years ago, I was placed in the hands of Lord Commander Melek Abaddon.
Coming face to face with the commander after witnessing the precursor to the death of my brother renewed a fight in me…
But it was useless. He was bigger and stronger than any hollow I had seen before.
He was my destruction into madness.
I quickly found out hollows took breeders to wed, their god only blessing sacred unions, and Melek wanted me, to the surprise of everyone, including myself.
“Here. Come help me choose which flowers we will set on the table tonight.”
The sun slowly creeps behind the foggy trees and bushes that surround our meandering garden and large expanse of grass, dew hanging precariously off delicate purple and pink flowers.
The first and only true nature I’ve seen inside of Halo is this pocket of wonder behind the manor I now reside in.
Within our small forest set from the back exterior of the ostentatious building is a treehouse for Sunny, far enough away from any prying eyes that might detect our penchant for fun.
This is the one place in this monstrosity of an estate where Sunny and I thrive.
The manor itself is a two-storey sprawling eyesore created from a creamy dense stone, contrasted with iron shutters and arched doors.
It would almost feel, dare I say it, peaceful, if not for the dark undertones of prison-hood digging its heels into the soil, constantly reminding me this place is not a vacation from reality.
It’s now my life.
We spend most days outside in the gardens exploring the small wooded area attached to our grounds, playing whatever games we can imagine together. Sunny loves fairy games the best, but we keep them our secret. My son knows that some things are off-limits around his papa.
“These ones, Mama,” he says, pointing to the small purple flowers drooping over, the petals too big for their thin stems.
“Excellent choice.” I scruff up his thick hair, so much like his papa’s, before plucking the wilting beauties.
Our stories are going late. I don’t care.
If I were fortuitous, which I rarely am, if ever, Melek would forget I exist and leave me alone.
The commander didn’t make it home for dinner, which is nothing unusual.
The fairy and Halo wars have been getting progressively worse over the last decade.
Mary, our housekeeper, told me the Fairy Lands’ creatures have blown through the western front, pushing forward into farming lands.
“Tell me the love poem, Mama,” Sunny mutters into the darkness of his room, knowing this poem is particularly hush-hush.
“Find Me in You?” His head shuffles against his pillow. Holding up his bear bear, he brings it down for a strangling cuddle. “I love you.” Tapping his button nose, I recite the heartbreaking poem from memory, keeping it alive for everyone I lost.
“Find me in your heart where we are equals.” I end the poem before its final iterations, unable to bear thinking about the last person who said those words.
Cocooning my son in his clean white sheets, I watch him drift off to sleep, breathing gradually evening out.
Moonlight, covered by a thicket of grey mist, dances beyond the curtains, illuminating his soft features.
“Wife.” I wince at the demanding tone of my husband bellowing down the hallway separating the master suite from our son’s spacious nursery. A world away from the life I grew up in.
I knew I would never be forgotten by my husband. When my unruly fists had punched his hard chest upon our first meeting, it sealed my fate. He decided no other Halo could tame me but him. It so happened that his previous wife died a year before in childbirth, taking the child with her.
How auspicious. I was next on his list of things to be conquered.
Brushing the soft curls off Sunny’s forehead, I give him a quick kiss before slinking out of the single bed, making sure to keep my movements light. Thankfully, the floorboards stay silent.
“Wife, I do not want to have to come looking for you.” Rolling my eyes, I slip through Sunny’s bedroom door, making sure to close it behind me.
By the impatient sound of my husband, it is going to be a rough night.
I instinctively rest my hand over my lower stomach, secretly hoping this one goes to meet Nix and Mam up in heaven.
It will be hard enough getting Sunny and myself out of this mess.
If any more children make an appearance, I will be stuck in this nightmare.
If it were up to Melek, I would have had ten children by now.
Thanks to my impoverishment as a child, it is hard to both conceive and hold on to a pregnancy.
When my pregnancy with Sunny finally lasted beyond the four-month mark a little over five years ago, Melek was ecstatic.
Well, as thrilled as a harsh thirty-nine-year-old commander of armies can be at the news of a potential child.
It was the first time I saw him drink himself into a stupor, and he gave me the night off from attending to his cock.
Year after year, I kept wondering if my husband was going to discard me to find a more fruitful wife, but infertility among the hollows was becoming an increasingly alarming issue, even more so than when I was first taken.
Not enough virile young women to go around, even among the lower class Halo people, which was why they were seeking half-breeds.
Now, twelve years later, they’ve found all the “viable” options in the factories.
Whatever that means. So, Melek is stuck with me.
I would feel sorry for him if I gave a shit about his feelings. Which I don’t. Obviously.
At the threshold of the arched wooden double doors to our bedroom, I pause for a breath. You’re his wife. You love him. Wife. Love. Simple. In actuality, I love to hate him.
The pep talk feels needed tonight. Pushing open the doors, I reveal the object of my wrath, a broad, suspicious-eyed man sitting at the end of our bed, a whisky in hand.
I lock the brass doorknob and take a couple of steps into the room, not losing eye contact with the hollow, frozen eyes staring back at me.
“Why did it take you so long?” The urge to say something snarky back is on the tip of my tongue, but if I want to walk and play fairy games in the garden tomorrow, I know to keep my mouth shut.
Spanking is a kink Melek can’t refuse if aggravated.
And I enjoy the art of brattiness—a skill he has helped me hone over the years together.
“I was tucking Eli in.” Eli. The damn Halo name Melek christened our son on his birth when I was unconscious. He’ll always be my Sunny regardless of what my husband says.
His jaw hardens.
“You baby that boy too much.” Puffing out his chest, he takes a swig of his drink. “He will grow up to be a commander like his papa, and he does not need some woman treating him like a sissy.”
Hold your tongue, Storm. Hold your stupid tongue.
Fuck, it is hard to hold myself in a calm state before this man. He knows it too. Melek is the commander for a reason. The man understands how to read a body without the person uttering a word.
Clicking his tongue, he opens his legs wide. “Come kneel, wife.” I could yell at him. My hands white-knuckle the ivory silk nightdress I wear. My husband knows exactly how to push my buttons. I’m pretty sure it’s his favourite pastime, watching me squirm.
Walking over to him, I remind myself of all the things I hate about this tyrant of a man.
I hate his dark brown hair and the way it falls effortlessly onto his face when it gets too long.
I hate his thick lashes that remind me of the boy sleeping in the other room.
I hate his tanned skin that covers his body from days of training outside with his keepers.
I hate his thick, corded muscles that shoot up his forearms and reach past his neck. I hate…
“Kneel.” Standing before his large form, I narrow in on him.
His eyes are now at equal height to my own in his seated position.
From my vantage point, I notice his lips quirk up at the side.
Not quite made of steel, are we, husband?
Like a string connects his words to my movements, my fingers instinctively reach to touch his knees, using them as leverage to crouch down.
“Open your mouth.” Looking up at Melek, I obey.
When he speaks, I move, that damn tether pulling me towards him—always.
Taking his glass, the chink of gold against the cup, our matching snake wedding band in view, he pours some of the amber liquid down my throat.
I hurriedly swallow so I don’t choke. It only lasts two gulps, the glass removed from my lips, his hand under my chin making me angle my face towards him. Shit, my eyes are closed.
“What do you say?” His words reach out to goad me.
“Thank you, Sir Commander.”
The tight grip on my chin is now gone as he swallows the last of his drink. “Take my cock out and put that filthy whore mouth to work.”