The Pixies’ Chosen (Mated to the Monster: Season 2)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

AMMAYI

T here comes a time when the bliss of a new romance is interrupted and given that I’ve been currently enjoying Tryst’s and Havoc’s attentiveness as they’ve introduced me to new ways to explore my world under the guise of Halloween fun, it is of no surprise that the day comes when Inika makes another appearance, this time to summon me home to attend a family puja and meal. Because apparently being absent for more than just a few days is something unfathomable for Mummi.

I’m a little nervous at first, wary of the possibility that Havoc will start acting like a lovesick fool around my sister again and pop the little bubble of happiness that had begun to form around my heart. I’m prepared for it too, because he declines carrying me as his arms are full with a basket that he’s been secretive about over the last few days. I can only think it’s possibly something to impress Inika.

So much for progress. All it took was a few happy days for everything to slide back into a pile of dogshit.

What a waste of effort too. What does he think he’ll be able to accomplish when Inika will clearly be there with Dishan? Not only will she be blind to whatever torch he is carrying for her, she will barely show more than polite interest in whatever he gives her. She will accept it be polite whereas I would have accepted it wholeheartedly and adored it for no other reason than it came from him. I glare at the basket hatefully as Tryst carries me through the air, his warm chest like a cozy heated bottle nestled right next to me, chasing the slight chill in the air away. He’s practically bouncing along the air currents with his amusement, and it’s all I can do to keep from elbowing him in the chest so that he will quit being so damn cheerful.

His rich laughter surrounds me as if privy to my thoughts, and his breath brushes my hair as he affectionately nuzzles me, his antennae brushing through the strands. “So fierce, Ammayi. Relax. It is not what you think,” he assures me.

Easy for him to say. He’s not the one about to get his heart ripped out. Nevertheless, I sigh and settle back into his embrace and try not to dwell on it too much. About the only thing that mollifies me is noting that Havoc has not once tried to zip out ahead of us in a rush to get there. Instead, he flies slightly behind Tryst with the faintest of smiles on his face as he gently cradles his package.

I’m trying not to be resentful of that basket when my parent’s front yard opens up before us in its usual spectacular display of autumn hues. Tryst descends the moment we breach the property line and Havoc follows suit, their bodies whipping in an arc as we drop at a heart-stopping speed through the air, heading directly for the window Inika said would be left open. Somehow, I survive our entry, though my heart is pounding. For a long moment, as we stand on the windowsill, I am treated to the warm, concerned gaze of both males as their hands run over me, assuring themselves that I had in fact entered with them in one piece despite the look of horror that must be perpetually stamped on my face.

And to think that I thought Tryst was the saner between the two of them when it came to flying. I want to laugh at that, but I still can’t breathe properly so I settle for slapping their hands away even though I privately delight in their grins.

“Looks like someone is well loved,” Inika teases as she heads from the kitchen, her arms laden with a dish carrying aromas that make my mouth water.

I watch it go by hungrily. It’s not going to the dining table, of course—not yet anyway. Food offerings are an important part of our family’s puja so that we might share a meal with god and share in the joys and blessings of it. I am not ungrateful to my sister’s observation, however, and I grin up at her cheerfully as Mummi comes over with a small bowl into which she gently deposits me. I want to remind her that I have two mates on hand who transport me very well… but then I also remember their crazy flight through the yard and decide to just enjoy the gentle swaying rhythm of the bowl worn from time and carrying the lasting scent of the incense it so often holds.

I lean my cheek against it and watch my beautiful males dart around me as they fly on either side of the bowl, carefully avoiding the plate Mummi holds her in her right hand. Havoc is still carrying his basket gingerly, but, as always, he’s up for whatever game there is to be played and appears to be trying to outdo Tryst in his complicated weaving through the air.

And best of all, he hasn’t even once glanced Inika’s way. I stifle the urge to triumphantly stick my tongue out of her—mostly because she wouldn’t have a clue as to why I am doing it, if she even noticed with how absorbed she is in Dishan’s company. But it sends a warmth through my chest, and Tryst winks at me as he passes, his laughter dancing through me as if I can hear it in my head, as if to say that he told me so.

The moment we enter the family worship room, however, something settles peacefully, quietly within me, and even Havoc and Tryst drop respectfully on the small table that Mummi set up for the offerings by the mandir—the family’s home temple. The sweet scent of incense already fills the room, and I breathe it in, allowing the hundreds of times I had offered incense in prayer and enjoyed that singular connection over a lifetime to drift through me. There is a bittersweetness to it because so much of the quiet, contemplative moments I’ve had seem so far away from me now.

Still, I climb from the bowl and smooth the silk kurti Tryst had finished just that morning for me. Its color is raw and undyed as of yet, but Havoc promised that he would show me the plants that make the best dyes—according to him many of which are currently in season. Mummi catches sight of me and smiles approvingly, and I give her a cheeky thumbs up, not even trying to shout since there is no doubt that she wouldn’t hear me as far away as she is. Inika and Dishan take their places, and, as he has for as long as I can remember, Papa begins to lead the puja.

His voice is steady and warm as he recites the prayers. The bell sings sweetly with the presentation of offerings, and I try not to be silly and just break out into tears that I can’t go up and do something as simple as scatter the flowers offered like other members of my family. What keeps me from crying like a child right then and there is the fact that I don’t wish to spoil puja for the rest of the family.

The mandir towers over me, each of the murti contained within it at least twice my size, yet from the table they feel as if they are untouchable and an unfathomable distance away. That old sense of defeat crawls through me, but I push it back. Yes, it sucks to be so small when everything else I loved is harder to appreciate in the same way. It just means finding new ways. I’m not entirely sure how at the moment, but I cling to that thought, and to my mates as their hands slip into mine, allowing it to give me strength. I don’t have to master everything in this moment, but I will find a way to reclaim this part of my life too.

My head bows as I wait for the puja to end and console myself that at least there will be plenty of food to eat and I won’t have to fight for my share because now I can only eat a fraction of what I once ate before. My lips twitch with amusement because I know exactly how skilled Inika is at putting away Mummi’s cooking. And Dishan is a good match. I press my lips tightly together so not to laugh, but I look up when I feel Havoc squeeze my hand. His eyes dance with amusement as his lips curl in a sexy smile.

I’m thoroughly distracted by that smile that I don’t notice when Havoc presses something into my hand until he curls my fingers around it. Caught off guard, I look down at it in surprise. I’m holding a small bowl carved from the shell of a nut, and inside there is a sort of confetti made of the same flower petals sitting in a bowl nearby. I glance down and see the open basket at my feet. That was what he was carrying. It was a gift for me after all. A gift of the best kind.

I blink rapidly as my eyes fill with tears at the realization that this male has restored something to me that I thought I wouldn’t have again. I don’t even think he realizes how important it is to me since I avoided my home mandir, unable to even open it at my new size. Nor would he know the disconnect I have felt to something so sacred to me. Tryst doesn’t even know, and he spent far more of those earlier days with me. And yet, by simple observation, he has fulfilled a need simply because he saw that I needed it.

Sucking my bottom lip in so that I don’t start crying, I give him a watery smile as Tryst wraps me in exactly the warm hug I needed. Havoc’s dark eyes soften, and his lovely violet lightens to a most beautiful hue as he nods in response to my silent thanks.

Without a word he and Tryst enclose around me at either side and hold me safely between them, and they lift me up high from the table as I cling tightly to that bowl and fly toward the mandir. Ganesh’s painted face seems even kinder in that moment, his trunk curled and at his knee a little mouse. And for a moment I feel like that mouse is me—so tiny and insignificant in this world that I now find myself in, and yet loved and worthy still in the eyes of god.

We hover there, the blue and violet lights of the pixies dancing over the mandir and the murti within as I dip my fingers into my bowl, sinking them in the flower petals. Gathering a handful, I lift the fragrant petals and then release them to dance on the tiny breeze created by Tryst’s and Havoc’s humming wings. They spin and curl through the air before floating daintily in front of Ganesh’s murti to fall upon his feet.

Clasping my hands in front of me, I close my eyes and pray, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks. And for the first time I can see the future open up before me that is filled with hope and happiness… and love.

“Thank you,” I whisper aloud as tears of gratitude slip down my cheeks.

“Ammayi,” Mummi whispers, her eyes softening as she holds the flame toward me, “don’t forget to take aarti.”

I smile, a deep contentment filling me as Mummi lifts the flame and gently wafts it over my head with the palm of her hand as I simultaneously waft it toward my eyes and the top of my head, feeling the warmth descend over me. I don’t know why I’m still crying, but I can feel the wet path of my tears streaking my cheeks when the flame is drawn away and the very tip of her fingernail brushes vermillion on my brow.

Unexpectedly, both males pounce on me, their lips chasing the tears, kissing them away until Papa clears his throat humorously.

“Okay, okay, let’s eat. Dishan, Inika, help us carry the plates. Havoc, Tryst, carry Ammayi,” he softly instructs, and I choke on the giggle as Havoc suddenly swings me up into a bridal carry and flits into the air.

“He said Havoc and Tryst, not Havoc the Lone Hive,” my other male protests as he takes off in hot pursuit, his chitin chiming merrily.

“Unbelievable,” Inika whispers confidentially to Dishan with a not so private, affectionate giggle as they trail after us. “Trust Ammayi to find a way to bring Halloween weirdness home as a regular feature.”

“She says that like it’s a bad thing,” I shout laughingly to Havoc, and he grins down at me in reply.

As if to prove her right, his pulsing shimmer flutters wildly as he darts forward, speeding down the hall. Tryst spins through the air beside us, his body arching wildly to send him rolling mid-flight over our heads. His shimmer entwines with Havoc’s as they fly, and their distinctive glows meld into an eerie, pulsing hue to light the way.