The days blurred together in a rhythm Willow never expected to find comfortable.
Dorian woke before dawn each morning to start the fire, ensuring the cottage was warm before Evan bounded out of his room.
He prepared simple breakfasts while she got their son ready for the day, moving around each other in the small kitchen with surprising ease.
Two weeks had passed since she let him in that night, and the angry, cruel Alpha King seemed like a distant memory. This Dorian was different.
He was patient when Evan demanded his hundredth piggyback ride of the day, gentle when teaching him how to plant seeds in the garden and quiet in the evenings when they all sat by the fire.
"Again! Again!" Evan squealed as Dorian lifted him high in the air, making whooshing sounds.
"Your arms must be getting tired," Willow said from where she was preparing lunch.
"Never," Dorian replied, tossing Evan up again. "I could do this all day."
"Me too! I can fly all day! Look, Mama, I'm flying!"
