Last Blood

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Twenty-four hours. That’s how long it had taken Chrysabelle to get herself together after finding out that the raptor fae had devoured Mal’s love for her, leaving him cold and uncaring, only to then discover she was also pregnant with Mal’s child. Twenty-four hours as a sobbing wreck curled in her bed. Then she’d run out of tears and passed another twenty-four hours there, staring blindly at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything, rationalizing her choices, and trying to make sense of her future. On the third day, she’d gotten out of bed with the resolute knowledge that whatever she had to do to protect that future wasn’t going to get done in bed.

If there was anything she’d learned from her mother, it was that strong women pushed forward, no matter what the circumstances, and strong women protected their children. Even at the cost of their own lives.

Being able to protect herself and her child meant being ready for anything, and that meant training. Lots of it.

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