Nevara
I woke before the sun.
For several minutes, I remained beneath the blankets and listened to the quiet rhythm of Thoren’s breathing beside me. One of his arms rested heavily across my waist, his palm curved protectively over the small swell of my stomach as though he had reached for our child even in sleep.
By five o’clock that evening, he would be my husband.
The thought sent a nervous flutter through me that had nothing to do with the baby.
I had imagined this morning so many times, though none of those imagined versions had carried the strange mixture of peace and terror settling inside my chest now. There had always been too much surrounding us before. Too many threats. Too many people deciding what our bond should mean or trying to use it for their own purposes.
Today belo
