Chapter 17
THE END OF THE BEGINNING
Multiple unknown footsteps stomp outside of the lounge room where Sunny and I were playing a game of Jenga in front of the fireplace. As soon as he heard shuffling at the front door, he was off, checking out the commotion.
“Mama, Mama!” My son squeals as he jumps up and down, now back from his investigations.
Using the couch beside me for leverage, I push up. “What is it, baby?” The small child looks ready to burst. His amusement is infectious, and my smile comes naturally.
“I can’t tell you,” he shouts and runs away.
That was odd.
Dark onyx hair falls in my face as I brush the oat cookie crumbs off the shelf I’ve created on my upper abdomen, thanks to my bump.
I’ve given up on wearing anything that isn’t for comfort.
Today, I have opted for one of Melek’s extra-large black T-shirts and some super stretchy cotton pants that are probably meant for exercising.
The shirt smells of his spicy forest scent, and I have not been sniffing it all afternoon.
The Halo wives would have a field day if they saw me in such attire.
Huffing at having to leave the comfort of the position I’ve been locked into, I push my hair behind my ears and walk to the foyer, loud chatter travelling down the hall.
There’s only one person who would be behind this, and he is meant to be working in his office.
However, I find my husband with Sunny on his shoulders.
Both of them are directing deliverymen to the upstairs bedrooms. Boxes line the curved wall of the staircase.
Melek notices my sudden appearance and cuts through the men walking up the stairs to get to me. As I watch him, I realise how much of a giant he is, bigger than the men he bypasses without care.
Tickling the sides of our son, he stands before me. “Did this guy tell on me?”
“Surprisingly, no. He told me he couldn’t tell me and ran away. Naturally, I followed the loud noises you were all making.”
The sheepish look he sends my way is new and makes my knees buckle slightly. “We have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? Are you both keeping secrets from me?” Both of them look very pleased with themselves.
“See? I told you, Papa. I didn’t tell Mama a thing.” Sunny mimes zipping his lips. He’s too cute.
“I’m impressed. When can I see this surprise?”
“Now.” Melek holds his hand out to me.
No hesitation, I run my fingers through his.
Warmth instantly hits me—the spark that never goes away each time we collide.
He leads me up the stairs to the spare bedroom next to Sunny’s.
This house has six bedrooms upstairs. We only occupy two, and the others just lie dormant.
I suspect they are meant to be filled with children.
The delivery men exit the room with flat boxes in their hands, signalling to Melek they are the last of the packages, before they exit the landing.
“What did you two do?”
“It’s a present for the baby,” Sunny’s sweet voice exclaims. Right.
The little girl who is meant to be showing up in a little over a month, whom I have not prepared for.
I just assumed we would bring down all of Sunny’s old things from the attic.
All we need are new bottles, some replacement cloth nappies, and clothing.
Instead, as I walk into the room, I find brand-new… Well, everything.
A wrought-iron cot sits to the side, the bars woven in an intricate pattern to resemble softly curving branches and leaves.
I run my hands through the grooves. A flash of words carved into the trees in our forest takes me aback.
Next to the cot, I find a plush, cream-coloured rocking chair with an ornate copper standing lamp.
And on the opposite wall, a matching iron nappy change table and dresser sit, with piles of boxes waiting to be opened stacked around it.
All that iron looks heavy and expensive.
“We were hoping to have it a little more unpacked before you saw it, but now, you can arrange it how you like.”
Holding the little girl inside my stomach, I ache at the display of opulence around me. A similar feeling overtook me when we set up Sunny’s room. I knew he would be okay in this world. Boys thrive in Halo.
Standing in the middle of my daughter’s room for the first time, I realise why I haven’t created this myself.
I’ve never wanted her to see it. I’ve never wanted her to be born into this world—a world where her body would be used by a man who would more than likely abuse her.
My hands fist beside me, nails digging into my palm.
The overwhelming need to exit this room is a crushing ache. I don’t want to disappoint Sunny.
“Storm?” A hand works at my clenched fist. Melek releases our boy from his shoulders, telling him to go and open all the boxes by the dresser. Sunny is more than happy to open his sister’s boxes, running headlong into the task.
My husband’s firm hold takes my wrist and pulls me from the room into the hallway. “What happened?”
He draws my clenched fist up between our faces. I release my tight fingers. “Nothing. I—” How do I explain I want more for our daughter? That I want her out of Halo land. That the only place that may pose no risk to her is the fairy territory. He will never agree to that.
Melek has spent his whole existence being indoctrinated into the “fae are bad’ rhetoric.
They made him fight against them. There’s no hope for us.
We will never see eye to eye. Not in this.
How do I mourn something I never should have wanted in the first place?
Just because he has kept me sheltered in this world doesn’t mean he’s any better than the rest of the hollow.
They are all liars, cheats, and murderers.
He’s no better.
“What happened in that room is not nothing.” He’s right; it wasn’t nothing.
It was the nail in the coffin for us. The finale.
The ending. He is my never. What can I say that will appease him?
As much as he wants to play happy families, we aren’t the same.
We don’t want the same things. So, I tell him the closest thing to the truth I can.
“I’m scared.” I take his shirt and hold it tightly.
Bringing his arms around me, Melek glues our bodies together. “Nothing will go wrong this time. I’m working from home until the baby is born. If anything happens, I’ll be here.” It’s not what I mean, of course. I’m scared of so much more than the birth. At least it’s not a complete lie.
The warmth of his body knocks on the door of my ice wall.
I can’t let him in. Not again. For them.
FIGHT. Nuzzling my face into his button-down, I drink him up, memorising the last slice of comfort I’ll ever allow myself in this place.
Wearing his T-shirts doesn’t compare to the real thing—another triviality I’ll need to do away with.
Separation; that’s what I need now. No more complacency.
“And if that little girl is as stubborn as her mother, she’ll stick around well beyond her due date because she won’t want to leave her mama’s side until it’s absolutely necessary,” he adds. I hope so. Sunny was a traumatic early arrival, and I don’t want to experience that again.
And then there’s Adam.
Waiting for the fae has become somewhat of a joke.
I’m pushing eight months pregnant, and travelling sounds horrendous.
It still doesn’t compare to the discomfort of being stuck here in Halo with two children who will be used for their bodies, their choice and freedom an afterthought to the hollow.
My pain will never trump their safety. Sunny and Phoenix come first. Soon can’t come quick enough.
It’s been a month and still no news from the undercover agent, which only makes me concerned about the validity of my sight.
Great. I’m starting to question myself again. Deal with it later. Later. One thing at a time. First thing’s first, I need to distance myself from Melek.
A few days later, as if I summoned him here with my despair, Adam shows up in the guise of delivering documents for Melek to sight. I nearly rupture with anticipation, wanting to tell him of the curious document I’d found on Melek’s computer—news I have no idea of the meaning behind.
“I found something,” I exclaim quietly after I’ve excused the new maid, so I can direct Adam to Melek’s study.
The lithe green man ushers me into the formal sitting room off the entryway, sceptical as he does a quick scan of his surroundings. All he finds is cold, dark furnishings. This room is only used when Melek has guests.
“What did you find?” His voice is as smooth as velvet, lingering in the air.
Golden flecked eyes dig through mine, almost hypnotising. Knowing he won’t find the answer in them, I respond. “Operation New Halo, with this year’s date on it and the word nu-clear highlighted.”
At the strange word, Adam snarls, teeth and all. I still don’t know if I pronounced the last part right, but it affects the fae before me, his body stilling to an unearthly quiet.
“Are you sure that’s what it said?”
“I found it on Melek’s computer. I’m sure.” My head makes an exaggerated up and down movement to prove my point.
He lifts his hand, slapping it against the wall behind my head, swearing. “Well, looks like we have a deal, human. Be ready to leave next week.”
That’s it? Adam makes a move to turn away from me. I reach out, taking any part of him I can secure, pulling him to a stop. “What day next week?” Being in limbo is too much for me. I need answers.
Turning to face me with aggravation on his ticking eyebrow, he answers. “I cannot give you days or times, woman. It will be when it’s convenient for me, and at a time that possesses the least risk.”
“Okay.” His eyes travel down to my hand attached to his shirt and back up, a scowl pulling at his deep jade lips. “Oh, sorry,” I respond, releasing him. The fae briskly walks out of the room and up the stairs, not sparing me a second glance.
That was not what I expected.
Next week?
It’s already Friday.
Next week could mean Monday.
I’m not prepared. Yet, I have to be. This is my only solid chance of escape after all this time.
Walking the length of the sitting room, I torment myself into an early grave, thinking of all the things I need to prepare for Sunny.
He’ll need his bear bear, a couple of changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.
That should all fit in a backpack. And his drawing book and pencils.
Not to mention snacks and plenty of water.
I sink into the stuffy formal high-winged chair opposite the large bay window, the night placid and unmoved by my inner turmoil.
Sighing, I sit and stare. This is it. We’re really leaving this all behind.
“Am I doing the right thing, Nix?”
I wish he would answer me. Any sign would be nice. Instead, all that greets me is silence.