Rising From Fire: The Betrayed Wife's Return

he door open w

ng light. A small figure was curled up on a massive bed, knees draw

by the smell of untouched

ra's chest. She moved forward,

id, her voice a

id. He lifted his head, his face t

eathly pale. And his eyes... they were the same brilliant, ice-b

hed through her system. His facial features, the curve of his jaw, the sh

. It was him. Damian. Her stolen firstborn. The boy s

voice was a hoarse cry, fi

and threw it blind

sly off her shoulder. Tears streamed down her

her voice thick with unshed gr

small hands clawing at the bedsheets. "That ot

hild. What did

ed, bringing herself to his leve

recoiled, curling into a tight

eless here. S

breath, she

ago, when she was pregnant. A tune she would hum to her bel

tic movements

eeply familiar. It felt like a warm

his head, his empty eyes trying

ady. She reached out a trembling hand and

't pull away. Her hand w

d again, his voice now a

a's cheeks. "I'm someone... who w

ther. He was too fragile. T

Then, his small, cold hand slowly, t

onger hold back. She gathered him into her

scent. He felt the steady, strong beat of her heart. The

ied his face in the crook of her neck and wept, rele

ry. She rocked him gently, stroking his back. "It's okay, b

to sleep in her arms, his little hand still clutching

She slipped a silver needle from her sleeve and with practiced e

g his sleeping face, and did not

again. She would heal his eyes, she would wake his father, and