Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
There’s a note pinned to the blanket. Domhn unfolds it with shaking fingers, reads it silently, and then reads it again as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“What does it say?” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from the infant, who’s now making adorable gurgling sounds.
Domhn looks up, and I’m stunned to see tears in his eyes. Real, actual tears. From my stoic, unshakable brother.
“It’s from Mads,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “She says... she says this is our son. That she’ll be home soon. That she loves me.” His voice breaks on the last word.
The baby—my nephew, holy shit—lets out a tiny, indignant cry, and Domhn gathers the baby into his arms with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts.
Bane’s arm slides around my waist, pulling me against him. I lean into his warmth, my heart so full it feels like it might crack my ribs.
“What’s his name?” I ask, peering into the tiny, scrunched-up face that somehow manages to look exactly like Domhn already.
My brother blinks clumsily and cups the back of his baby’s head in astonishment, glancing down at the note again, a smile—a real, genuine smile—breaking across his face like a sunrise.
“Connor,” he says softly. “His name is Connor.”
As if recognizing his name, the baby’s eyes blink open, staring up at the giant man holding him with a kind of solemn curiosity that’s almost comical on such a tiny face.
Bane’s lips press against my temple. “You okay?” he murmurs.
I nod, leaning into him, letting his strength support me while I process the hurricane of emotions swirling through me. Joy. Wonder. A strange, fierce protectiveness. And deep, deep relief that MadAnna is alive. That she’s coming back. That she hasn’t abandoned my brother after all.
“Family just got more complicated,” I whisper back.
He chuckles softly. “Family always is.”
I watch as my brother—my fierce, terrifying, overprotective brother—cradles his son against his chest for the first time. His face is transformed by a love so raw and immediate it takes my breath away.
And suddenly, I get it. Why people do this. Why they take the risk.
Love is worth it. Love is always worth it.
I turn in Bane’s arms, looking up at the man who has seen me at my absolute worst and still looks at me like I’m his miracle.
“I love you,” I tell him, because it’s true and because life is short and unpredictable and magical.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “I love you too, little heathen.”
Maybe someday we’ll be ready for this—for tiny humans with Bane’s gray eyes and my wild curls. Maybe we won’t. Either way, we’ll figure it out together.
For now, I have this: my husband’s arms around me, my brother finding his way back to hope, and a brand-new little person who’s about to discover that being part of this family means being loved fiercely, protected ruthlessly, and accepted completely—just as you are.
Imperfect. Complicated. But never, ever alone.