Page 11 of The Pixies' Chosen

Iwatch Mother Nagmati with amusement as she twists the fabric of her clothing in her hands as she stands beside her mate, Father Rakep, and stares at us as if unable to decide what is worst about the scenario she is facing. As it is, it is a little disconcerting with how close she must lean in to hear us, but I have to hand it to Havoc for at least obliging her with a brief—and heavily edited—version of events.

Needless to say, she is not pleased. Given her reaction and the way she is clinging to her other daughter for support, I am glad that Havoc refrained from pointing out that it was the other female we had truly been after. It does not matter anyway—there is no changing what happened, so it is time to move forward with what we have and consider ourselves fortunate… even if my hive brother cannot quite envision that future right now as bitter as he is feeling with his disappointment. I cannot say that I am on the same page.

The more I look at Ammayi, the more pleased I am with this accident. Although her sister is a true beauty, there is something about Ammayi that appeals to me on a deep, fundamental level. I am not sure if it is her expressive features or the way she handles everything in a far easier stride than her female relations, despite the fact that she is the one who is truly impacted by this. Besides which, with her round face and messy curls, I find her quite soft and adorable. Especially when she is regarding her mother with equal parts affection, exasperation, and pleasure at her mother’s fussing over her.

Ah, the painful desire to cling to parental attention and simultaneous need to flee from it. I understand that all too well even if it has been long since I have seen my mother. Upon reaching adulthood within the Dark Forest, male pixies are forced to leave their parental colonies to keep the communities strong and healthy, but it leaves a hollow space where our mothers’ love once occupied. I covertly blink back the strong swell of emotion that makes my wings tremble as I watched the push and pull between mother and daughter.

I suspect that Havoc is similarly affected as I feel a certain pained emptiness on our bond. It is the reason why, regardless of his feelings, he is hiding his disappointment well and keeps most of the details of our intention quiet at this critical moment so as to be as kind as possible even if he must face down our mate’s mother with a cool, unwavering regard.

“Fine,” she enunciates slowly and turns away with a flutter of the long, gauzy material in brilliant purple draped over her shoulders. “You will stay here then. I can make up places for you to sleep.”

“Just tonight, Mummi,” Ammayi immediately objects as she hurries along the countertop, parallel to her mother’s stride. “I can’t stay longer than that. I will have them take me back to my apartment tomorrow morning.”

“Do you have to do this? I think it would be okay if you stay here. Why would you leave when you need your family’s help?” Nagmati quickly replies as she pushes back her sleeves and picks up an enormous spoon to stir the contents of the pot on the stove. “What would you do—go to class like this?” She tsks loudly as her arm moves vigorously.

“Well, yeah, actually,” Ammayi agrees as she hops over a rag sitting in her path. “I will have Tryst… and Havoc,” she adds clumsily. “They’ll be able to help me.”

Mother Nagmati gives us a critical look, but I quickly nod in agreement as I flutter my wings and fly across the counter to catch up to my mate’s side. “We would not leave her.”

She scoffs humorlessly and turns to lean back against the counter, her arms crossing over her chest. “And who are you that you think I will trust your word so easily? You are not her husband and yet you expect to be trusted to live with her alone? Do you think that this is okay? As far as I see it, you are just the ones who caused this problem to begin with because you thought you would just come to my home andstealmy daughter. Why should I trust your words?”

Well, that was direct. And not inaccurate. I give Havoc a sharp look because really, with the way he went about this, it is all his fault. At least the male has the grace to look a little abashed, though I doubt anyone other than me can see the hint of remorse flitting through his icy expression.

“Our enthusiasm did get the better of us,” I hasten to reassure her, my wings flaring earnestly as I leave Havoc behind to zip close to her face so that she might easily hear me. “But I assure you that we will not let her suffer or know any amount of unhappiness. We will take good care of Ammayi.”

“Please, Mummi,” Ammayi joins in. “Trust my decision in this.”

Her dark brown eyes narrow as she squints at me until at last, she shrugs and makes an obliging sound in the back of her throat. “If you say so, and Ammyi insists, then I suppose we have little choice but to accept it. You’ve made her more fragile than a songbird, and now you must be responsible for this.” She gives us a stern look. “Not that I have much confidence that you two know what it is to be responsible.”

It really is a pity that I cannot think of a single example of my hive brother and I being exceptionally responsible to prove her wrong. As of late we have only been doing just enough to survive and live to enjoy another day. And this whole incident does not speak well of us either.

“Mummi, just relax,” Ammayi quickly intercedes as she reaches her mother’s side and pulls gently on her blouse. “They’ll take care of me, and besides, I would hate to miss out on all the work I’ve been doing these last couple of days to prepare my place for Halloween.”

Nagmati huffs and she shakes her head. “I do not understand your fascination with that holiday. Isn’t Navratri enough celebration?”

“Of course, Mummi,” our mate says hurriedly. “Didn’t I go to temple with you?”

“One day out of nine,” her mother protests with a tiny frown of disappointment. “And you did not bother to show up for Garba—and that used to be your favorite celebration. You loved to dress up in your best clothing. But now you care more about this strange holiday.”

“My enjoyment of Halloween doesn’t make the other days less. You know that I love Navratri. I’ve just been a little busy this year. But look, I promise, next time I will make more effort,” Ammayi reassures her.

Mother Nagmati sighs heavily and waves both hands through the air. “Okay, okay. Let me give you some food before I must return to my guests. I will set up beds for you afterward.”

Wasting no more words, the female turns to the pot and pulls a shallow bowl that looks absurdly small in her hand and begins to fill it with the contents from the pot. Despite how small it looks while she is holding it, I am impressed with how much food is in there when she sets it on the counter in front of us and immediately sets a sort of flat bread beside us.

She waves us toward it. “Eat. I will be back.”

Ammayi nods and immediately tears a large chunk from the bread and hands me a portion when I drop to the counter beside her. “Try it. My mother makes the best naan in the entire county.”

I murmur my thanks as I accept it and watch with interest as she shoves another portion into Havoc’s hands when he joins us, but not without shooting a glance toward her sister’s departing back. His look of longing goes entirely unnoticed by Ammayi, but I don’t hesitate to give him a swift kick in the leg when she’s not looking. Sooner or later, she is bound to notice him staring mournfully after her sister if he does not quit. If he hurts our little mate, I will happily murder him. I let him know this with a dark smile when his head whips toward me with an accusative glare, his food nearly falling from his hands.

I am glad that Ammayi is oblivious to the exchange—or at least I assume she is. She is by far more interested in the food set in front of us and I find that incredibly charming. She is so eager that I chuckle when she ducks around me to dip her naan in the thick sauce-filled bowl in front of us. The sauce is filled with meat and peppers, but they are cut too big for her to easily handle, so she settles on just slopping the sauce onto the naan so that is dripping heavily as it emerges. I cringe slightly at its appearance but then lean forward in fascination as thetantalizing, spicy smell fills my nose briefly as she shoves it into her mouth.

“Mmmm,” she moans. “I do miss Mummi’s cooking. I always ask why she doesn’t cater for these big parties so that she’s not stuck over this stove all day, but I never regret filling my stomach.”

I grin over at her and follow suit, dipping my own chunk of naan. The savory sauce bites back in a way that makes my wings hum with pleasure. Havoc’s eyes narrow on me for a moment, but when I dip my naan in again, he begins to cautiously creep toward the bowl as I begin to cut into the meat and peppers with my own knife. Stabbing a chunk of meat with the tip of my knife, I delicately hand it to Ammayi only to be rewarded with a pleased smile as she accepts it and quickly sinks her teeth into it. Havoc makes a contemptuous sound, but I ignore him as I spear a tiny bite of meat for myself and shove it into my mouth before fishing another out for my mate.

It is not until my stomach is comfortably full that I realize that Mother Nagmati had stolen into the kitchen while we were eating and placed two boxes on the counter filled with brightly color fabrics. I peer at the box curiously because I have never seen anything quite like it, but Ammayi takes one look at it and bursts out laughing.

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