Chapter 16.4Mature

Storm paid it no attention as he did up his shirt.

“Are we having a little party in here or something?” he asked sarcastically.

“Good to see you’re back to your usual self,” Mary remarked.

“Wait until the morning. Or this evening,” he muttered, turning away.

Mary waited a few seconds before saying, “You know, Noah could—”

“I’m not letting your brother anywhere near me,” Storm cut in sharply, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“How old were you when he last saw you?”


“And now he can actually listen to you, because you talk.”

“No, Mary,” Storm snapped. He calmed down a little. “Just give it up.”

“Baby, you know I never will,” she murmured, looking at him sadly.

“Then we will continue to have this argument, won’t we?”

“I suppose so,” she sighed.

Storm didn’t say anything as he focused on doing up his shirt, struggling through shaking hands. Mary stood up and went over, pushing his hands out of the way and doing it for him.

“Quite a reversal of events,” Storm whispered to her, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

Mary looked at him blankly for a few moments before hitting him playfully.

“Behave,” she muttered, trying not to laugh.

“Make me,” Storm grinned.

“Is that a challenge?”

He rolled his eyes and crouched down to get something from under the bed. When he straightened up, he was holding a thick leather binding that he rolled out on the bed, revealing more than twenty blades of varying length, though they all glowed a slight blue—which Beth had noticed from Storm’s knife earlier in the day, but it was so bright now that she just knew it had to be coming from the weapons. They were all engraved near the hilt in a swirling script that Beth couldn’t distinguish clearly.

Storm picked a few, one of the longer ones and two shorter ones, sliding them into the holsters that he shamelessly wore at his hip and calves.

“Baby, I know you don’t trust the generals but isn’t that a bit excessive?” Mary enquired.

“You can never be excessive when it comes to weapons around the generals. Traitorous bastards should be hung,” he mumbled.

“They don’t have to listen to you but they do anyway, Shem.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped at her, sending a venomous glare her way.

She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes.

“We’ll see you downstairs, Storm,” Mary said before grabbing Beth’s wrist and practically pulling her out of the room and back downstairs.

The End

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