Page 37 of Storm

My mouth opens and closes. No words come out.

Closing my eyes firmly, hoping it will bring some clarity, I find only one word coming to mind.

Fairy.

My second reaction is to spring my eyelids back open and take stock of each council member’s features. Features that are distinctly non-fairy. It’s clear that no one else sees what I do. The man standing before us is a Fairy Lands creature. I’ve only seen fairies, the myth beyond the tree line that the Haloians fight, a handful of times. First, at the hollowing. Second, during my first and last solence rite. And at a few council parties. I was preparing myself for the inevitable attraction of the evening, my insides shrivelled at knowing what would happen in my own house.

I wasn’t prepared for this.

For him.

Fairies are tall creatures, taller than Melek. Which says a lot, considering he is the largest man I’ve ever seen. They also represent all the colours of the rainbow, with pointed ears and ethereal faces. Some even have small horns protruding from their heads. The one before me doesn’t have horns. He does possess an otherworldly green skin tone, with golden-glinted hazel eyes and long, lightly tinted brunette hair, scattered blond highlights throughout.

The thing is, it’s not his skin or eye colour that makes me worry. It’s the black and grey signet colours of the Halo Army he’s decked out in that give me further pause and make my solence run cold.

I shiver, and a broad, protective hand instinctively goes around my stomach. “What’s wrong?” Melek. I link my fingers through his, relaxing a little, his captivating pull unavoidable. Sue me.

“I’m suddenly feeling lightheaded. Can you help me, husband?” His face loses colour instantly. I never ask him for help, and he quickly excuses us from the gaping stares of the men, ushering me through the bustling kitchen, where chefs and servers pay us no heed, gently pushing me into the darkness of the pantry, immediately rummaging around. “Did you see what colour Adam’s skin was?”

The squeak of a jar lid lifting off its hinges catches my attention, and Melek tells me to open my mouth, placing a salty cracker in my mouth. I chew, and he answers. “It’s a slightly darker shade than mine. He spends a lot of time outside training. He was just promoted to junior council last week. His war strategy far surpasses anything I’ve ever seen from any other Halo member. I’m training him up as my second.” My husband’s reply is more than I expected. There’s a strain in his voice that I suspect has more to do with me than the fairy we’re discussing.

Does this mean he didn’t see what I saw? The distinctly green hue to Adam’s skin.

We don’t usually talk about his work—a personal preference of both parties. Though when I’ve previously asked about what he does, he’s never shied away from answering. Melek has always been overly confident about keeping me forever.

His secrets are safe with me. For now.

I chew, listening to his words. There’s a strong possibility I imagined the whole thing. Surely, low solence sugar during pregnancy can lead to hallucinations. A fairy creature has not infiltrated the council. I have never heard of that before. I’m just seeing things.

Pregnancy hallucinations are a new symptom for me, but a much more likely explanation for what I saw.

Taking the container of crackers from his hand, I shove another down my throat and ask Melek one more question. “What colour were his eyes?”

“Really, Alora, what is going on? Why are you so concerned about his skin and eye colour?”

“Please, amuse me, husband—” I see the crinkle of lines around his eyes, a thin sliver of light filtering through the gaps in the pantry door. He huffs out an exhausted breath.

“His eyes are grey, like everyone else’s here.”

“Are you sure?” I can’t help it. When I go back out there, I need to know what I’m looking for. Is this pregnancy making me crazy? Maybe it’s all those medications the Doctor has Mary spoon-feeding me each day.

“Alora…”

Plastering my lids open, I give him a good look at my eyes. The eyes he stares at every day. The eyes that mark me different—unchosen, unworthy. They are bright blue, not grey.

“I’m sure, wife.”

Satisfied, I inhale another cracker and ponder. I’ll go back out there, and this Adam will have bronzed skin and grey eyes. Excellent. Sorted. I shove another cracker down my throat.

“Wife?” It’s a command. I snap out of my introspection. “If you are not well, you can go rest in our room. Is it the baby?”

His hands rest on my protruding bump. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. I was just hungry and had a dizzy spell. I’m good now.” Back straightening, I place a wary smile on my lips—one he can probably see straight through. His eyes turn into slits, suspicion evident, probably because I’ve never had a “dizzy spell” before. Not to mention the strange questions. I’m a known pregnancy crier. I probably should’ve burst out in tears. “Let’s go back out and eat some proper food. These crackers aren’t hitting the mark.”

Melek doesn’t let me stray far from his side for the rest of the evening. The vultures—council wives—barely get a lick of me, which I’m somewhat grateful for. Adam has disappeared, and I haven’t been able to locate him since our first meeting. The only conclusion I can come to is that I was seeing things—pregnancy brain. Delusional. The last thing I need them doing is slapping a label like hysteria on me. In four months, Melek will have two babies from me. An heir and a spare. He could get rid of me. I could be disposable to him after I birthed this baby.

My spiralling can’t have come at a worse time because it’s at this exact moment, while shoving a cream puff in my face, that a purple body crosses my field of vision. Craning my neck, I ask, so only Melek can hear, “That’s a purple fairy, right?”

Two keepers in head-to-toe black suits roughly tug the chained male, stumbling in bare feet, without a stitch of cloth on him. Ice-blue eyes flash around the room, unsure, but placid enough not to cause trouble. No doubt those orbs were much darker before they began feasting on him. A dining chair is placed before the fireplace in the living room, and the thin, lithe fairy is told to sit.