Augusta reached out and took his hand.
It was warm, at least. That was something. His fingers didn't respond to her touch, didn't curl around hers the way they had when he was a small child and she would read him stories before bed.
Before Angus had taken her. Before years of captivity and suffering and loss.
She pushed those thoughts away.
The past was past. What mattered now was the future—Jaegar's future, and her chance to finally be the mother she had been prevented from being.
"Your grandmother has a plan," she said softly, knowing he couldn't hear but speaking anyway because the silence was too heavy to bear.
"We're going to take you somewhere special. Autumnhold, the elven kingdom. I've never been there myself, but your grandmother says it's beautiful."
She paused, studying his face for any sign of response.
There was nothing.
