AMARANTA POV
I loved when the early morning light hit our kitchen counter. Sitting here, sipping tea, I could pretend this had always been my life. Living here, in Hopeland with my mate by my side. Not just my present, but my past too. My future, for sure.
All the s**t we went through could just be a bad dream. Like there hadn’t been a forest full of dead things clawing their way out of the ground, like I hadn’t snapped a man’s neck with my bare hands, like I hadn’t stabbed my own mate in the chest and dragged his soul back into his body while screaming at him like he was late for dinner.
No.
Soft light, thin curtains, a quiet kitchen, and the smell of coffee that I was not allowed to drink anymore because apparently growing a whole human being came with rules.
Rude.
I shifted slight
