Page 231 of May: Bloom & Bane

“You’re okay, sweet pea,” I murmur through my tears. “Daddy’s okay.”

I force myself off the floor. I can’t breathe in here. I glance around the room: cracked floorboards, overturned furniture, and it’s just too much.

“I need some air. I just need a minute,” I whisper to Nook. “I’m not leaving. I just need to breathe.” I tell my mates even though they can’t hear me. “I love you both, so much.”

Nook’s floorboards give an anxious groan beneath me, the door easing open with obvious reluctance, hinges dragging like it’s asking me to stay. Droot lifts his head, pulsing a worried blue.

“Stay with them, Tiny King,” I whisper. “Watch over your Big Birds until I get back.”

He hops onto the arm of the couch, torn whether to come with me or stay with his boys. He plants himself on their shoulder, and my heart cracks a little more.

I step out into the cold, and the wind hits me. It almost feels like relief. I pull the door shut behind me and then I just… stand there on the porch, breathing in the crisp winter air. I wrap my arms around myself and force myself to walk while I turn the pieces over.

Your sister.

I press my hand over my heart. A sister. Somewhere out in the world, someone might be missing me. And the males I love… chased her.

Stop it, I tell myself, scrubbing a tear off my cheek before it can freeze. That’s not all he said.

It was always.

It was always what, Ash? It was always who?

I want it to be me. I want it so badly my chest aches. I want the end of the sentence to be—you, Eden, it was always you—but I watched his face when he said he couldn’t have her. I felt his grief.

The grass crunches under my boots. The canopy above me is a web of bare branches, the moonlight falling straight through. The baby shifts, and I try cradling her the way Ashán’s shadow would if he were here.

“I know, sweet pea. I’m confused too,” I whisper.

I stand in the center of the quiet meadow, staring at the stars, until I sense something watching me. I turn slowly, scanning the darkness. At the tree line, where the night is thickest, something moves.

At first I convince myself it’s just a shadow. But then he steps into the moonlight. Frost spreads across the grass, climbing toward me. His pale eyes lock onto me.

“You,” I whisper. It’s the fox I found in the meadow on my first day. God, that feels like a lifetime ago.

“Hi,” I breathe. “I wondered if you’d ever come back.”

He stops a few feet from me. His head tilts, nose lifting in the air as he scents me. He circles me slowly, his nose brushing against my leg. He lets out a whine, nudging against my calf.

“What is it?” I whisper, crouching down. “What do you smell?”

His icy eyes don’t break contact with mine as he dips his head, nosing along my arm. With a careful gentleness, his jaw parts, and his teeth slide over the sleeve of my coat, wrapping softly around my wrist. He tugs.

“You want me to follow you?” I whisper.

He shifts his weight, teeth tightening just a fraction against my skin before releasing my wrist. He takes a few steps toward the trees.

“Okay,” I breathe. “Lead the way.”

I push to my feet and follow the smoke of his fur into the dark. The meadow swallows us, the skeletal branches opening to reveal a swollen silver moon. The cold deepens with every step. Beside me, the fox trots effortlessly. Every few paces, he looks over his shoulder, his tail sweeping to ensure I’m still behind him. I keep one hand cradled over my belly. She’s grown quiet, lullabied by the rhythm of my boots on the hardening earth. The trees part, and I freeze. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. A forest of snow stretches out before me, luminous and silent, every branch heavy with sparkling powder. Snowflakes drift down slowly through the air. The ground glitters like it’s been crowned with crushed stars. Tiny white flowers push up through the snow, nodding their delicate heads. It’s like a fairy tale.

“Is this where you live?” I whisper. “It’s so beautiful here.”

One of my feet steps inside the enchanted forest.

“Just a little further,” I whisper to the baby. “Just a quick look around, and then we’ll go home and check on Daddy.”

The second my other foot comes down, a bloodcurdling sound rips through the air. The fox’s ears flatten against his head.