Trained Not To Love You
I could hardly contain my urgency to get back on my path to the kitchen.
Ashton lingered a moment, glancing at Katya in my arms with a gentle smile. “She’s beautiful,” he said, studying her face. “Looks like a mix, like me.”
I looked down at Katya, pride swelling in my chest. “Her name is Katya,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “And yes, she is. Her mother is Belvarian, like yours.” Saying it felt incredible, like shedding a heavy cloak I’d carried for too long. Ashton gave me a nod, a look of understanding passing between us.
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