When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
*Ella* At first I think I’m standing in front of Ryatt in a cold, stone-lined bedroom with nothing but a small bed and dresser to furnish the space. But, it’s not Ryatt. Glacier blue eyes look past me as the man turns around, his face drawn and brow pinched in an expression I know belongs to one man, and one man alone. But Commander Westfall is so much younger. He can’t be much older than Ryatt in this–this vision. This dream. Westfall stalks forward, brushing past me. I turn, following his movements. “This is madness,” Westfall says to the beautiful young woman sitting on the edge of the bed with a child sleeping in her lap. She combs her bruised and swollen fingers through the boy’s thick, dark curls, his own face peppered with fresh bruises. “You’re leaving, tonight!” “You know I