“The smell of your mate will ease the pain,” Zaria explains, when she sees me sniffing Maxon’s clothes.
“Oh, well that’s handy.” I smile.
I lie down in Maxon’s bed after Zaria has given me an herbal tea to help with the cramping. Hugging his pillow to my chest, I curl into a ball. My cramps may have dulled, but they’re still bothering me.
Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, I hear the chamber doors creaking open and instantly sense Maxon entering the room. That swarm of butterflies that usually appear when he is near grows.
The bed dips behind me, and his fingers stroke my hair. “Stóirín, are you okay? Zaria tells me you are unwell?”
I roll my head so I can see him when I talk. “I’m okay, just female issues,” I whisper.
Maxon’s brows furrow and his jaw clenches. “What do you mean? Did someone hurt you?”
I grin and reach up, sliding my hand over his jaw. “No. It’s . . . ” What did Zaria call it? “You fae call it the cycle of Brigid.”
Maxon’s eyes blaze in the dark, and I feel his confusion for a moment before his features smooth out and understanding softens his features. Standing from the bed, I watch him disappear into the bathroom and then return several minutes later. He’s carrying what looks to be a small pillow. He quickly strips off his clothes, leaving on his briefs, and climbs into bed behindme. Placing the heated pillow on my lower stomach, he presses against my back, his body molding perfectly around mine. I let out a deep sigh of contentment, instantly feeling the tension melt away from my body.
Chapter fifty-one
Everly
Maxon left early this morning to meet with the lords of the Winter and Autumn Courts, accompanied by Raiden. I'm unsure what is being discussed today, but I can sense Maxon's reluctance to leave. Today is his first day as king, and I couldn’t be happier for him. I know he’s worried, he couldn’t hide that from me even if he wanted to. I can feel his doubts and the pressure to be perfect, but everyone loves him. He is already an exceptional leader and a formidable warrior.
With Nix sitting silently on my shoulder, I stroll through the gardens, my bare feet sinking into the soft green grass. Inhaling deeply, I savor the scent of flowers and the soft, velvety touch of petals brushing against my fingertips. Now that I understand my magic a little better, I take my time watching as the flowers respond to my touch, unfurling their petals and releasing a sweet fragrance into the air. Nearby, a few curious birds flutter closer to investigate. I already feel a hundred times better than yesterday;the tea Zaria gave me, combined with Maxon's comforting embrace throughout the night, feels like the perfect remedy for PMS.
Tristan and Kian wait at the edge of the gardens, their disapproving frowns unmistakable when I asked them not to follow.
Nix playfully kicks her legs as the soft branches and leaves of the weeping willow sway around us, as if they're attempting to tickle us. A sense of familiarity comes over me, a rush of memories flooding my mind, taking me back in time to my childhood.
“Everly?” Nix's soft voice whispers.
“Yes?”
With a gentle push from my shoulder, she effortlessly flies in front of me, twisting her long, brown hair in her hands. “Are you happy you found your way back here?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Do you miss your old life?”
Her question stirs up a whirlwind of emotions inside me. Do I miss my old life? Not at all. Throughout my childhood, I lacked the presence of someone who genuinely cared for me. I felt small and insignificant growing up in the human world, but ever since arriving here, I’ve had countless people who embraced me with genuine concern for my well being. That was before they discovered my true identity.
“No. Do I miss Scarlett and Mia? Absolutely.”
“Will you leave us?”
I stare at Nix, a frown slowly creeping onto my face. This isn’t like her at all. “No. I don’t plan on leaving. Why?”
Nix shrugs, looking uncomfortable. I start walking again, and she follows with a trail of fairy dust falling behind her.
“I hear you can make gems with your fairy dust.”
“Sometimes. Depends on what I’m trying to do.”
“Can you make one for me?” A butterfly floats closer, and I lift my hand.
Nix stops. “You want me to make you a gem?”
With a twist of my body, I face her, the butterfly resting gracefully on my finger. The sunlight catches its wings, revealing a mesmerizing shimmer of white and blue.
