Ella Our first night in the palace is so strange for me. My two boys are sleeping soundly on either side of me – Sinclair sprawled out over our supersized bed (it’s much bigger than a King – I don’t even know if they have a name for it anymore; we had to make a custom order) and Rafe’s bassinet is

Ella “Ella,” Sinclair says, snapping his face back to mine, still pissed as hell at my suggestion that I’m bringing Rafe with me to the Refugee Center. “It istoodangerous – I willnotlet you put both of you in harm’s way like that.” “What are you going to do, Dominic,” I say, turning my head to t

“No,” I say, giving her a big grin and shaking my head. “But I’d like you to please make a list of improvements you’d make to this place. Abiglist – don’t hold back, okay?” The girl glances at her colleague and both of their faces brighten, which starts a warm little spot in my belly burning. “Oka

“I’mnot keeping them separate,” Isabel says, turning to me with narrowed eyes. “Theydemandedseparate accommodations.” “Oh,” I sigh, realizing that that makes sense but disappointed nonetheless. “But anyway, these wolves are all people who had their home destroyed during the war and don’t have fami

The gift, in its grace, can sense when something is wrong – and it knows how to fix it. I’m really, in all things, just the conduit. But as I put the gift to work, I’m so, so grateful to my mother for letting me be the conduit forthisparticular gift. It’s almost as if she knew it would bring me a pe