Curiosity tugged at me as I watched the swaddled twins resting peacefully, their tiny chests rising and falling in rhythm with the soft lull of the room. I cleared my throat softly.
“Have you two thought of names yet?” I asked.
Lucian glanced at Mara, a silent exchange passing between them. Then he gave her a small nod, urging her to speak. Mara turned her gaze to me, her expression warm, her voice gentle.
“We are thinking of naming our daughter Kaela Martha Nighthorn… and our son Ronan Vander Nighthorn.”
The words hit me like a tidal wave. For a moment, I could only stare, stunned into silence. Then the tears came, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down my cheeks. My chest ached with disbelief and gratitude. Me, after everything I had done to their family, after the damage, the mistake
