Page 57 of Storm

Taking my chin harshly in his palm, he guides my nose to his, almost touching. “I will call my wife whatever I like.” His hot breath skims my jaw. I forget to breathe. “I will admit one truth to you.”

“What?” My breath releases in a soft glide over his stubbled cheek.

“Storm has always suited you much better than Alora ever did.” The organ in my chest thunders out of cadence at his declaration, my eyes stuck on black dancing forms in his swirling galaxies. “You are my Storm. You tore into my life when I had no intentions of ever remarrying, and when I saw the fight in your eyes, I knew no one else could have you.” My heart suddenly stops beating. This is how I die. “Every day since I first met you, you have blown right through my fucking soul, and I have no idea how to pick up the shards anymore.”

Speechless.

Did the commander of the Halo Army just admit he has feelings for me? Or am I having some weird pregnancy dream again, and I still haven’t woken from fainting in the fields?

His thumb runs along my cheek. I shudder under his touch. “Melek…” His name is all I can manage. It’s too much. Beyond overwhelming. He can’t have feelings for me. I’m leaving, and I’m taking his children with me—my children. Our children. Falling for a hollow is the worst kind of blasphemy. My whole life, I’ve hated these elitist magicless pricks who think solence somehow matters beyond basic humanity. That a simple shift of one’s makeup somehow makes it okay to rate people on a scale of cattle to chosen ones.

“You didn’t answer my question, wife,” he says with firmness, grounding me back to him. I mould further into his stroking touch.

“What?” One word is all I can manage.

“What do you want to name her?” I don’t even need to think about it. I already know. Whether she was a boy or a girl, I was naming her after him. The brother I lost. My phoenix, rising from the ashes. The one who clung on.

“Phoenix.” My voice is but a breath of years of pent-up uncertainty. Melek rubs his nose against mine.

“Okay,” he rumbles before claiming my mouth. I take that as affirmation of his acceptance of my choice as his lips slide over mine, my tongue swiping to let him in. I greedily take, letting him enter, giving myself permission to sink.

Bending my spine to feel his muscled chest pressed against my peaked nipples, I can’t help the soft, luring noise that escapes my lips. Pushing back, he chuckles. “As much as I want to continue this, we’ve got a friend tonight.” Falling back, I close my eyes, remembering the boy now drawing at the table across the room, thankfully facing away from us. “But once he’s asleep, all bets are off, my Storm. We will be taking full advantage of that en suite.”

Knuckles graze my underwear, and my hands go to push at my dress. When did he put his hand up my dress? “Yes.”

“Good answer, wife. Now, let’s have dinner so I can get to eating my dessert.” Tickling my ear, he adds, “I won’t be wasting a drop.”

CHAPTER 16

PASSWORDS MEAN NOTHING

We have been on this tour for three days, and I’m exhausted. Being in my third trimester and travelling is no joke. Since my fainting spell, Melek has made it his mission to make sure we take regular breaks, including an evening bath, which he always insists on joining after Sunny is asleep. I’m not complaining.

After the beeken factory, where I found out they raised the hybrid creatures purely for slaughter, we visited the greenhouse factories, a variety of indoor growth exhibits. It’s been eye-opening, to say the least. Everything in the food factories has been somehow genetically altered to fit our diets, needs, and climate. I pick Melek’s brain between stops. He also informed me of the mining factories within the outlying mountains. They are further out, and checks on those are being undertaken by Adam due to the unstable landscape.

When his name came up, I’d blanched. The fae. I’ve been stuck in an intoxicating bubble with Melek since fainting at the first factory. There’s more to this—to us. Not only hate. Another emotion prevails. One I’m yet to fully entertain.

What I don’t expect is the bursting of my bubble when Melek very nonchalantly announces our next factory visit—the energy factory—as if it will not elicit a reaction from me under a different name. Our next stop is my old home. The worst part is that he doesn’t impart this information until I am stepping out of the large black car.

Ignorance led me to not pay attention to the rods protruding from the ground, instead helping Sunny, head down, illustrating the various sights we’ve seen. My boy is enamoured with the animals, wishing he could take one home. We are content, to an extent, though the faces of the seronds will now be included in my nightmares. However, I am experiencing a glimpse of normality.

Until Melek strips it away.

POP. The bubble bursts, thanks to one Lord Commander Melek Abaddon.

My hand in my husband’s, my feet hitting the ground, my eyes find it instantly; the fence bordering the factory and the fields where the X once stood. The place where they left my brother to die now lies empty. Perhaps, they now shoot on sight for disobedience, instead of starving them. The lack of proof doesn’t dull the pain; it amplifies it. It creates a hole in my chest so wide I think I will lose control of my lungs.

A muggy heat begins to overwhelm me.

Wheezing through a piercing slice of air, I pull my gaze from the offending fence line and back towards the commander, venom on my tongue.

With all my strength, I yank my hand free of his grip. His face drops instantly upon seeing mine, and I do something I know will get me in trouble. I slap him with an open palm, seething. “How fucking dare you?”

Wrath. Veins pop in his temple. I usually hold onto my blatant disrespect for my husband, releasing it privately, knowing that in front of the hollows, it’ll get me nothing more than condemnation. This is our second-to-last day on the road, and I thought he was purposefully leaving out my old home out of care for me.

Out of, dare I say it, love.

I want to spit and stomp and stab that word.