Book 4: I Have a Son

Maddox

He looks like her. He has her blonde hair, even if it’s only a fine, silken dusting of it so far. I run my fingertips over his eyes, closed tight against the light flickering in the quiet corridor. They’re the same shape as her eyes, and I know as he starts to open them and see the world for the first time, they will eventually be the same heartbreaking blue as the mother he will never know.

I will see Isla in him. I will see her every time this unnamed boy looks into my eyes. I don’t know if that's a mercy from the Goddess, or a haunting reminder of every past wrong I’ve committed.

I prayed and prayed to the Goddess as they cut my mate open to save the child I’d so desperately and selfishly wanted. I prayed she’d spare Isla, that she’d see past my sins and doubts and save the one thing that had ever truly mattered to me.

Fuck my title. Fuck my territory. Save my mate. Save my mate. Save her.

I didn’t take my eyes off Isla’s face