Ella Cora wipes at her face with the palms of her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I just…I kind of flipped out.” “The vision wasn’t bad,” I say, “I promise it wasn’t. And we get it – if you came out of the baptism ceremony looking like you’d jumped into the pool? I’d have freaked out too!” “Ye
Ella “Kinda wish I knew what Rafe’s power is going to be now,” I murmur as we lift Rafe’s carrier out of the car early the next morning. Cora and Roger stayed up in their room for a few more minutes, but they came downstairs much more cheerful and ready to celebrate. I watched them carefully a
“Well, that I won’t contest,” Sinclair says, grabbing me to his half-naked body the moment I step through the door. “Wise man,” I say, lifting myself on my toes for a kiss. Sinclair gives it to me – a long, lingering one, and then he pats me on the ass before reaching for some pajama pants. Ther
Five and a Half Months Later Ella There’s a strange atmosphere in the palace today and I admit that I don’t quite no how to feel, because everything is half dread and half excited anticipation. At least, that’s how it is for everyone else. For me? For me it’s just a great deal of discomfort.
“Roger’s just jealous,” he says, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “Because Rafe is faster than Jesse.” “Jesse’s six months old,” Cora says, rolling her eyes at the dads. “He could be faster for six months,” Sinclair says dryly, trying to hold his smirk. “Don’t worry, Jesse,” Roger says fo
Ella I take deep breaths, working to breathe through the contraction. Sinclair is seated on the bed next to me, one hand on my lower back, the other clutching my left hand as I squeeze his fingers, hard. “You’re doing great, Ells,” Cora says, there on my right, coaching me through it. She was t
My eyes go wide as he moves a few steps forward and shadows clear from him, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with an angular face, impeccably dressed in rich fabrics, each a darker shade of black. “Congratulations,” he continues, giving me a short, teasing little bow, “on the birth of your fir
Ella I go rigid at the idea of this dark god giving my daughter anything. “No,” I gasp, attempting to push myself away from him – but I struggle to move – “Fear not, moon daughter,” he says, the corner of his lip tilting up. “I do not give curses to those who are my chosen ones – only gifts.”