Maeve
Cleo and Myla were sitting in awe in front of the hearth in the library, looking down at infants in their hands. Alison, Robbie’s mate, was holding Will, who was surprisingly well behaved as he peered up at the perfect stranger in whose arms he rested.
“I don’t know how I missed him,” Cleo whispered, looking down at Oliver with a soft frown creasing her brow. “I’ve never… Oh, Maeve, I am so sorry!”
“Cleo, none of this is your fault. None of it. We’re all fine now, that’s what matters!” I sat between her and Myla and on the couch, holding a mug of hot cider between my hands as I glanced from baby to baby, a wave of relief washing over me. We had all finally been reunited after Troy and I had separated from the Persephone.
“This one looks so much like Troy.” Myla ran her knuckle ov
