The Phoenix Heiress
At three years old, he was all energy and sunshine, and holding him reminded me why I had to be strong today.
“Morning, Mama,” Jace said, his voice still heavy with sleep but steady. Fifteen, and already carrying himself like a man. He’d been through too much, seen too much, but he was still my boy.
We sat together for breakfast, plates piled with eggs and toast. Wolf stayed close, his presence grounding me, but he let me have this moment with the boys. I needed it.
Hot Chapters