Heph: Modern Descendants 3, page 20
“With this ring, I mark my target, showing the world that you belong with me. Your finger centers the ring, as you center me, and I am happy to call your hands and your heart my home.” Before Hestia, Heph’s typically gruff voice cracked on his words, overwhelmed with emotion. He leaned forward and kissed the joining of the rings.
With shaky hands, I placed a similar ring on Heph’s. His thick fingers, swollen in the heat, and my trembling attempt made us chuckle nervously. My voice squeaked.
“With this ring, I circle you, claiming your heart, which I plan to hold, your name, that I’m happy to bear, and with you, I call anyplace a home. I love you.” I leaned forward and kissed his ring. Raising my head slowly, his hand covered my cheek, and his mouth lowered to mine. I’d shared all kinds of kisses with Heph, but this one was the most special. Soft and sweet, this kiss marked me as his—permanently.
Our audience clapped and whistled when the kiss lingered a bit too long, but one clap continued and drew our attention.
“Hephaestus,” the booming voice covered our congregation like a thundering cloud.
“Zeke,” Heph breathed. Stepping forward, the large presence of Heph’s father towered over me. There was still something eerie about Zeke. I couldn’t place the feeling or what it stemmed from, but his brooding look and jovial smile confused me. In his presence, I feared he had plans to extinguish me or possess me. Which sensation was stronger, I could not determine. Sensing my unease, Heph shielded me, tucking me into his side.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you, son.” The comment surprised me. “Such a beautiful bride.” Zeke’s hand on my hair startled me. Heph slipped me behind him, and my fingers dug into his shirt.
“What do you want?” Heph’s gruff voice returned.
“I wanted to say…I’m sorry.” Without seeing Heph’s face, I knew his brow rose, his forehead wrinkled. “I didn’t understand the strength of your feelings.” I relaxed behind Heph, but my hands didn’t leave his shirt for fear I’d blow away in the wind. Heph’s only response was a nod, and then he reached behind him for me. Pressing me forward, hands still at my side, he spoke to his father. A small spark of unease hissed inside me with Zeke’s nearness.
“Let me present, my wife, Phyre.” The pride in his tone strengthened me. While I still questioned Zeke’s intention toward me, Heph’s hand on my hips assured me nothing would happen to me with Heph present.
“How precious a gift, to possess fire.” Zeke watched me, and Heph pulled me back to his chest. One hand slipped forward to cover my belly.
“I see,” Zeke whispered, watching the possessive move of Heph. The baby rolled under Heph’s fingers, but he didn’t mention it.
“Thank you for coming, Zeke.” Hestia stepped in, both softening the tension clouding our moment and dismissing Zeke at the same time. “Join us at the house for a feast.”
Heph and I would not be part of the celebration that followed. We had our own night planned.
heph
A bonfire crackled, lighting a thin perimeter around it as we sat under a spring sky. The air remained chilly but I pulled Phyre close to me, a blanket wrapped around us collectively. My mouth nuzzled at her ear and she chuckled.
“Tell me you love me,” I mumbled, the tip of my tongue traced the soft curve of her lobe.
“I love you,” she groaned as my teeth nipped at her neck. My hand slipped to her belly under the blanket.
“I love you.” The words were a hushed whisper and something inside Phyre moved. I sat back as I recalled the sensation from earlier. “What was that?”
Phyre laughed and the sound matched the brilliance of the flames before us. “The baby,” she said, and my hands roamed over the swell, palm lying flat in attempts to capture the feeling a second time. The baby did not disappoint. A tiny roll to the left and her stomach came forward for a second. I spun to the front of her and knelt between her legs. Pressing her back, I laid her flat and hitched up the flannel shirt draped over her mid-section. My mouth reached for her soft skin and I kissed her waist, as the baby rolled again.
“I love you,” I muttered to her belly and she giggled at the words addressed on her waist. My tongue came out and licked a small circle. Phyre responded with a sigh. Her hands came to my hair and my mouth watered for more of her. Tugging at her waist, I slipped her leggings lower, exposing a dark mound and pale skin to the starlit heavens. This was our wedding night. A private consummation under the sky, with flames at our side.
My mouth made contact, and Phyre’s hips bucked upward, allowing my eager lips to separate her and ravish her with the eagerness I always felt when I was near her. I knew this girl: how she moved, how she’d ignite, and I treasured the thought that I sparked the love within her.
“I love you.” Her voice heady with desire as my mouth continued to consume her. Her breath hitched and her hands on my head tightened their hold in my short hair. “Hephaestus,” she breathed, and I liked the breathless, needy sound of my name on her lips. Another flick and Phyre lit, calling out to the heavens in her release. The warmth lingered, smoldering to bright embers. Removing my jeans, I knew how to ignite her again, and I slipped to her center where she welcomed me. Holding me locked within her raised knees, she sang out almost instantly as I climbed, longing for escape from the heat and relishing in it at the same time. Bursting within her, I grunted like the animal I could be when she was under me. My mouth sought hers and my kiss told her: “I love you.”
+ + +
Months passed. Our life formed a rhythm of work and lovemaking between building a small house and watching Phyre’s body grow. My girl could swing a hammer and nothing made me prouder. Well, almost nothing. The shape of her body pleased me as it ebbed and flowed into a new dimension that included life inside her. I’d never been happier.
Phyre was quiet at times. Having our child frightened her and she’d tell me her wayward thoughts. I tried to assure her that the images were normal, the fear understandable, but nothing would happen to her or our baby. After her slim appearance at our wedding date, her body changed rapidly, growing rather large with a few months remaining in her pregnancy. She walked slowly, the strain on her tiny frame taking its toll. We were days away from finishing our home, a place I was excessively proud of as we designed and built it together. Seated upon a small hill, the view of the forest from any room was glorious, and I treasured waking each day and ending each night inside the place we would call home.
One day, I found Phyre in the loft apartment, rocking on the floor near the bed. Her arms wrapped around her mid-section, she clenched her teeth in pain.
“What’s wrong?”
She could only shake her head. Her hands clenched and unclenched at the T-shirt of mine she wore. I stroked over her hair, feeling the clammy skin of her forehead.
“Phyre, sweetheart, talk to me.”
“The pain. Something’s not right.” Her body continued to rock and her eyes closed, her teeth gnashed together as a growl rumbled from deep within her. Wrapping an arm around her, she refused to unfurl from the protective hold over her midsection. I picked her up, struggling at first with the added weight, and awkward shape of her body. She didn’t curl into me like she typically would, but tucked into herself within my cradling arms. I placed her on the bed, and she slipped to her side, drawing up her knees. Her teeth chattered. My hand brushed back her hair and her eyes closed. Panic seized me.
“I’m going to get Hestia.” Racing for the main house, I found Ember and Seraphine in the breakfast room. Hestia had gone to visit Temple at the stables they told me.
“What’s wrong?” Ember asked, rising slowly from a bench.
“I don’t know. Phyre.” Reaching for her elbow, I guided her to the door with Seraphine on our trail. Entering the room, Phyre was visibly shaking, her hands over her protruding stomach.
“Phyre, can you hear me?” Ember asked, struggling to keep the sweetness in her tone while panic rippled in her throat. A moan responded.
“What hurts?” Ember encouraged, running her hands over Phyre’s belly, pressing gingerly and Phyre hissed. Her eyes shot open, but her gaze was dead. She had no focus, only fear in her typically gleaming blue eyes.
“What’s happening?” I barked.
“I think the baby wants to come now,” Ember said.
“It’s too soon,” Seraphine stated, ticking off her fingers to count down the months. “She needs longer to marinate.” The joke was lost on us. Phyre’s constant fear was that she’d cook the baby. She’d wake in a cold sweat at night, afraid her heat was too much and the baby wouldn’t survive. I snarled in response to Seraphine.
“We need Hestia,” Ember snapped, and Seraphine left the room instantly. Time ticked too slowly, and I paced the room while Ember sat next to her sister, stroking over her damp hair. Phyre’s eyes closed and her breathing shallowed. Her fingers worked over her bulging stomach.
Finally, Hestia entered, like a breath of fresh air. Ember jumped up to allow Hestia room and she tenderly placed her hands over the large bump on my Phyre’s body.
“Hephaestus, would you excuse us for a few moments?” Hestia asked, lifting the hem of my T-shirt on Phyre.
“No,” I growled, not willing to let my eyes leave my wife.
“Go,” groaned Phyre, the sound painful, clawing at me. With a huff, I stepped out of the room, settling only briefly on the couch before standing to pace the small living room. We hadn’t taken Phyre to a traditional doctor. There wasn’t a record of who she was, nor an explanation for what she could do, so modern conveniences such as hospitals were out of the question. I cursed our status and prayed briefly to any god or goddess willing to listen, and then I remembered the goddess of children was within my family. Reaching for the new cell phone Phyre demanded I learn to use, I made my first call.
“Veva, I need you.”
+ + +
Arriving long after midnight, Veva leapt briefly for me with Solis on her heels before she entered my bedroom. Ember had given Phyre something to drink that relaxed the pain and allowed her to gain some restless sleep. I had only checked on her briefly, allowing Ember to sit as her nursemaid. I didn’t wish to disturb Phyre, but I desperately wanted to lie behind her, holding her close to me, and assuring her things would be good. But my heart was losing faith. The groans and grunts stabbed me with each shallow breath and harsh sound from Phyre’s clenched teeth.
Solis placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Let’s take a walk,” he encouraged, nodding toward the door.
“I don’t want to leave.”
“We’ll just be outside,” he offered, leading me by a heavy hand to give our crowded apartment some space. I trudged down the dark stairs of the loft with a weighted heart. Following Solis, we sat around the slow ember of campfire in the dark summer night. Solis let out a laugh.
“It’s July,” he said, as if the date should mean something to me. “Can you believe it’s been a year?”
My thoughts raced. I didn’t understand. Time moved at its own pace when you lived forever.
“This time last year, Veva hated me,” he said, leaning forward to grab a stick and taunt the embers, hoping to spark a new flame. “And you were engaged to another girl at our father’s annual festival.”
My ankle crossed my knee and my chin came to rest on a closed fist. I snorted with the thought. July was the celebratory month of our father, Zeke, and his summer party a mandatory call for all relatives to return to the estate for a week-long festivity to celebrate him. During that week, he announced my forced engagement to Lovie. I chuckled bitterly with the thought. We obviously weren’t attending this year.
“Did she marry him yet?”
“Who? Lovie?” Solis laughed and sat back with a thud, the fire refusing to respond to his prodding. “I think they will be perpetually at odds. Plus, Zeke won’t approve of their marriage after what she did to you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
Solis sighed. “Despite his hard shell, he really does wish to believe in love. I think it’s why he’s always flirting, why he’s constantly lusting. He loves the thrill of new attraction. The possibility of something. The problem is he has no commitment to sustaining it. He lacks the hard work of fidelity.” Solis looked down at his hands, and I questioned his thoughts. He’d once been as wayward as our father, treasuring the kill but not the feast. Solis had left many women heartbroken in his wake, but he promised me one true love existed for him and me.
“You aren’t sorry, right? You still love Veva.” Panic took me, and I sat forward, ready to pummel my brother if he hinted that he’d thought otherwise of Vee.
“Are you kidding me? She’s the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I don’t plan on ever losing any feeling for her.” I sat back in relief.
“What about you, Heph? Are you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been,” I replied unequivocally, confident in my answer.
“So you didn’t marry her because she was pregnant?”
“What?” I sat forward again, my voice booming almost as deep as our father’s.
“It’s just, I worried you picked her for that reason. I mean, I can see that she loves you. She worships the space you occupy, but you were always getting engaged and trying to do the right thing. I just want to be certain you married her for her, not some obligation you felt.”
Not even finding the strength to blink, incredulously frozen in place, I glared at my brother.
“Take it back,” I bit. His honey-colored eyes shot up to mine. “Take. It. Back.”
“What did I say?” he offered, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I love that girl with my whole being. I worship the air she breathes, the fire she produces, the heat she stirs in me. I did not marry her for the baby, but it’s a bonus, to be certain. I married her for her, because I want her to be with me always. So, take. It. Back.”
“I’m glad to hear that Heph.” Veva’s tender voice spoke behind me. “Because there may be a problem. I need to get her over to the main house where there is more space in her old room, and I can monitor her better. And as for you,” Vee pointed at Solis. “Apologize for being an ass and then come help me.”
I stood immediately as did Solis. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s gone into premature labor and we need it to stop. She’ll need bed rest for a few weeks. No more hammering,” Veva admonished. “No more standing on her feet. She needs to keep those babies in a bit longer.”
I stared at her, my ears ringing at the sound of an -s at the end of one word.
“Babies?”
“You’re having twins.” Veva smiled slowly, but the sparkle didn’t reach her blue eyes.
“Two?” I asked slowly, raising my hand with two fingers extended. I swallowed hard at the thought.
“Yes, two, but first, we need to worry about your wife.”
My wife. The words rang in my head.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think she was dehydrated, so we’ll start with an IV. I’d like to monitor her heart so I’ll need to get to the nearest city for a machine.”
“Let’s go,” I said, reaching out for her arm and dragging her toward the stable where my car was parked.
“Dude, it’s the middle of the night,” Solis stood, blocking my path. “Let’s start with moving Phyre first, and then we can go from there.”
My mind was a whirl. Move Phyre. Have twins. Make way for more room in my heart. I nearly burst with excitement and fear.
“She’s going to be all right, right?” I questioned, Veva’s typically teasing eyes somber, and I didn’t like Vee’s answer.
“Let’s hope so.”
+ + +
Time passed too slowly. Phyre refused to let me touch her, bring her comfort in any way. She was shutting down from me, and I was going out of my mind. I wasn’t a violent man by nature but I hated to be ignored. I was ready to remove those babies myself if it brought my wife back to me. The first week was hell. Monitors and tubes attached to her, checking her heart, which beat too fast, and feeding her veins, which needed more liquid. She complained of feeling a struggle. She needed to release the flames but feared letting go. She was a frustrated dragon.
One night, the tickle of a hand came over my wrist. My head rested on the edge of the bed, and I let her fingers crawl over the dark band covering my wrist. Her finger wiggled, struggling to get under the leather strap. Slowly, I lifted my head and undid the clasp. We didn’t speak, her delicate digits still searching over my wrist, fumbling for something blindly in the darkness. Once her hand found the compass tattoo, her palm wrapped over it, and drew my arm up to her. My eyes shifted to her face. Her eyes closed, peaceful. In her sleep, she had reached for me, needing the instrument at my wrist for comfort to remind her of home.
Come home to me, Phyre, I whispered in my head. Awkwardly she angled my arm, placing a too-brief kiss on the sensitive skin before wrapping her arms around the thickness of my forearm.
“I love you,” I said, my voice choking with the sound. I missed her.
“I love you,” she mumbled sleepily. I shifted in my seat next to the mattress, and scooted upward to allow her to sleep with her head pressed to my arm, her hands securely holding onto me.
+ + +
A whimper followed by a blood curdling cry woke me. Veva rushed into our shared room in Hestia’s house. Phyre panted, and Veva held her fingers on Phyre’s wrist.
“Okay, beautiful,” Veva began. “Let’s end this torture.” I stood abruptly, holding Phyre’s limp hand in mine.
“Vee, what’s happening?”
“This is it, Heph. She can’t hold them in any longer, and I’m getting concerned for her.” Veva had studied to be a midwife in college. I’d never seen her in action but I’d heard she worked miracles on a girl at the estate who was pregnant. I had faith in Veva, in my heart, but I doubted everything in my current state.
