I do so like all-encompassing words. Verb, adjective, noun. Yes, you are shitted.

All I'd have to do then was roll with the consequences of inviting dewinged, fanged fairies into Trent's backyard. God, they were savage looking. Served him right.

Welcome home, Rachel mariana Morgan, he said, his goat-slitted eyes holding a new, dangerous light. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

He just wanted to hold her to him and tell her it would be okay, that she had survived and was beautiful.

Memories of ice and Trent surfaced, and I wrapped my arms around my middle. I had saved him, and he had saved me. What was wrong with us?

That’s my girl,” she said, her eyes holding a shared pain as she saw my confusion. “Al, where are you going to put her? Not in your room. She’d pull a line through you and kill you when you hog the blankets. I’ll take the waif in. I promise I’ll bring this one up properly.

I didn’t mean now,” he protested. “I’m not going to raise the child. I’m having enough trouble with Rachel.