Relief spilled into me. He wanted to live. He just didn't know how.

My God", he whispered. What have I done to her? He thought, humbled. The spell was broken, but it wasn't sealed, and her soul was bare to him, the scars of her tragic past and her triumphs over pain and her aching need to find her place. He just wanted to hold her to him and tell her it would be okay, that she had survived and was beautiful.

Hovering near panic, trying to focus but finding it hard to open my eyes. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t get enough air, and I couldn’t find the desire to push her away

The cookie maker needs someone to look out for him.

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

Happy endings were never handed out. You had to fight for them, earn them with bruised hearts and sacrifices.

Elves apparently had a short childhood. Not like witches, who seemed to take forever to grow up, according to Jenks.