Page 388 of Never Kiss a Fae
“No,” I replied, stubbornly taking each step up the ladder with Titus’s hands firmly on my hips. “You wouldn’t do it right.” I was the only one who knew where everything had to go. Except I couldn’t really explain that absurd sense of certainty to my mates.
Titus’s warmth escalated out of frustration as I adjusted one of the snowflake streamers.
Usually, I would have used a little wind magic to cinch the tall loops into the ceiling, but my element wouldn’t come to me.
That should have been concerning.
And yeah, I probably should have said something.
But the Healer had told me I might feel a little off my game as the faeling grew. And it wasn’t like this Halfling pregnancy came with an instruction manual or anything.
So rather than fret over it, or unnecessarily worry my mates even further, I’d decided to stay calm and do what I could to make this feel more like a safe space.
Hence all the decorations.
A room full of festive cheer gave me the sense of calm I needed.
“Yes, there we are,” I said, satisfied as I snagged the streamer swaying in between complementing layers of autumn leaves and pumpkins.
“Are you finally done?” he asked, his voice going up with a hopeful lilt.
“Hmm,” I hummed, glancing around the room. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Autumn and Winter Solstices all wrapped up the room in my festive masterpiece, but something was still missing.
“Um…” came an uncertain voice as Aflora inched the door open, pushing aside the faux snow I’d crammed too close to the hinges. A nearby candle flickered, and Titus twisted his fingers, sending the flame away before it lit the entire display on fire.
“Am I in the right place?” she asked, warily eyeing the candles.
“Aflora,” I greeted, excited to see the female Sol referred to as his little sister. The two of them had grown up together after Aflora’s Royal Fae parents died, and now the two of them shared access to the source of earth.
I waved my hands to beckon her to enter and immediately regretted the motion as I nearly fell off the ladder. Titus cursed and caught me, setting my feet on the ground.
Then a flame broke out across the room.
“Shit,” Titus muttered.
Aflora pulled a wand from her cloak and muttered a spell, killing the fire with a few spare breaths. Then she looked around the room with her cerulean gaze.
“Well, there are enough decorations in here to decorate a field of wildflowers,” she said. “Someone’s definitely nesting.”
Titus grunted in agreement as male voices cascaded through the open doorway. Zephyrus stepped through it while smirking at whatever Cyrus had just said.
“Wow, did Christmas and Thanksgiving have a baby?” Zephyrus asked, glancing around the room.
“Claire’s nesting,” Aflora replied.
“Yes, I see that,” he deadpanned. “Hi, Claire.” The greeting lacked affection, but that was standard from the Warrior Blood. Midnight Fae had a variety of classifications. His focused primarily on defensive magic, which echoed in his stance now as he went dutifully to Aflora’s side. “Why is your wand out?”
“Fire,” Aflora replied, putting the magical conduit away. “I’m fine.”
He looked her over with pensive green eyes, his features sharp and cutting as he ensured she was truly “fine.”
Cyrus arched a brow at me just as Titus jumped to take out a newly escaped flame.
“I thought nesting was supposed to help you make asafespace,” my water mate teased, walking forward to brush his fingers under my chin. Mist washed over me, giving me a tingling sensation as he instinctively protected me with a shield of water.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t need to put me in a literal bubble, Cyrus.”
He smirked. “I do when you’re intent on setting rooms on fire.”
