Page 89 of Storm

“Find me in your heart where we are equals.”

He is on the last table before ours. I feel the comforting presence of a solid, broad body behind mine, rubbing away the pesky liquid that trails down my cheeks and whispering soothingly into my ear. “I’ve got you.” My husband knows what I need before I can express it.

And truthfully, I’m glad someone does, because I’m seeing the craziest shit in the known universe. A truth that shouldn’t be. I’m seeing a ghost who is handing me everything I’ve wanted. I must be dead. DOA in Melek’s arms in the tunnel. It is the only explanation.

Ren and Sera part for him—my brother—ascending our table. I can’t rupture our connection in case he disappears as quickly as he reappeared. He plonks himself in front of me, whispering in the clearest, most tranquil vibrato from memories long past when he would hold me late at night, wishing for more. “Where our souls will meet in eternity.”

I hiccup my tears back, whipping them away angrily, the assault ruining my clear vision of him. Regardless, this can’t be real. I open and close my eyes, just to be sure. The man kneeling on the table in front of me smiles as brightly as the stars themselves, his own tears glistening—an angel brought back to life.

“How are you going, kiddo?” Realising I’m stuck, unable to move, he pushes aside the plates in front of me, sliding his body down until his feet are dangling off the end, close enough for me to see him—my Nix. His age is now beginning to show white flecks in his hair and tiny creases, smile lines around his mouth, and at the edges where his lashes meet. That hits me like a sledgehammer. He’s fucking happy.

I lift my hand towards him, and before I drop it back to my side, Nix takes it in his, tugging me forward so he can place it on his chest.

I hiccup again, smiling obnoxiously.

“You’ve got something of mine, and I think it’s high time you gave it back, sister.”

A chuckle overflows from my lips. This is absurd. This display. Him. My life. “What?”

“My strength. My fight. My conviction. Take your pick.” His irreverent grin takes me out at the knees, but my bodyguard is here to lift me up. A fresh wave of tears bursts through me, and a soft push at my back forces me into my brother’s arms. Damn Melek. Nix catches me, wrapping me in a warm embrace.

Throwing my arms around him, I raggedly huff into his ear. “I thought you were dead.”

“It takes a lot more than a night without food to kill a Phoenix.”

Gripping his shoulders, I pull back, looking at my very much alive older brother. “You’re such an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot, and you love me, Storm.” A distressed sound escapes at his use of my name for the first time in twelve years. I never thought I’d hear his voice again. How’s he here in front of— “Argh.”‌ A vigorous kick nearly takes me out from the inside, and I fold over, clutching my stomach. A heated palm graces the centre of my back, steadying me.

Nix’s brown eyes flicker down to my very rounded middle. He leans in closely, for my ears only. “I really hope that baby belongs to the crazy-eyed lumberjack standing behind you.”

I take a deep, steadying breath, holding onto his shoulder for support. “Yeah. That’s my husband. And mate, it would appear.”

“You’re telling me that human guy with hollow eyes is fae?” We continue our hushed conversation.

“He’s a quarter fae.” Inclining his head to the side, Nix asks another question just for me. Though I’m sure the fae can probably hear, regardless of our conversation level. “So, does that mean the angry-looking guy’s doppelgänger clutching your dress is my nephew?”

“Yes. That’s right.” I run my hand over the head of a very confused-looking Sunny. My tunnel vision finally allows me to see past the apparition that has come to life before me.

“This is Sunny.” Smiling down at my son, I give him a slight nod towards his uncle. “Sunny, this is my brother.”

The epitome of his name, my boy lights up. “You have a brother. I’m going to be a brother.”

“You’re going to be a big brother to your baby sister, just like Phoenix is a big brother to me.”

Forgetting his apprehension, because my son has never had a shy bone in his body, he jolts forward and declares, “You are the Phoenix from Mama’s stories!”

Nix doesn’t need a hint. Our mam loved to tell us stories, especially about his namesake.

“That’s me, kid.” He puts out his hand, and Sunny shakes it vigorously. From behind, I hear a throat clearing. As if I could forget ‌my husband.

I step over the long bench seat with a hand from the man in question. “Nix, this is my husband, Melek.”

Nix assesses the man who has an entire head on him. Probably wondering if he can take him in a fight if push comes to shove. “Thanks for keeping her safe.”

Melek squeezes my hand tightly. “I try.”

Shaking his head, a grin forms, probably seeing the same no-nonsense man I’m used to when it comes to my safety. “I bet,” Nix replies. Great. They already have something in common.