I sat in the nursery rocking chair, holding Rhys against my chest as I processed the horrific revelations about my uncle. My sweet baby boy slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of the machinations that had surrounded his very existence.
The door creaked open quietly, and Kaelen stepped inside. His eyes softened immediately at the sight of us. Even after everything we'd learned, that look—full of love and wonderment—never failed to make my heart skip.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, his voice low to avoid disturbing Rhys.
"Still trying to wrap my mind around everything," I admitted. "My uncle orchestrated our entire relationship just to create his perfect heir."
Kaelen knelt beside the rocking chair, gently stroking Rhys's dark hair with his fingertip. "Not our entire relationship. He might have forced our initial meeting, but everything since then—that was all us."
