These moments were the only ones when Keely sounded like the adult woman she was, the only moments when the emotional scars that had frozen her forever in a mental childhood receded. The only moments Breanna glimpsed the woman her mother might have been if the old baron, Liam’s father, hadn’t raped Keely when she was still a girl on the cusp of womanhood. Those moments hurt, but Breanna held on to them fiercely, determined to remember them when Keely acted more like her little sister than her mother.

“The harvest will be good,” Breanna agreed. But would there be enough? Oh, there would be plenty for the table during the harvest season. The plants were producing more than they’d ever done, and already there were vegetables to be picked for cooking. But would there be enough to feed all of them and still preserve what would be needed to see them through the winter? There had to be enough.

But for how many? If the fighting came to Willowsbrook and other families lost kitchen gardens or farmers lost entire crops, would there be enough to share so that everyone got through the winter?

Everyone who survived. The thought made Breanna shiver, so she pushed it aside. Not so easy to push aside the feeling that had been growing throughout the morning.

There was a storm coming. Something dark and violent.

She looked to the west, studying the blue summer sky and the puffy clouds that leisurely floated through it. She looked to the east and saw the same.

But something had shivered on the wind that morning, waking her suddenly out of a sound sleep when the air from her open window brushed against her skin. She’d realized then how foolish it had been not to fasten the shutters and make do with the air through the slats. There were still some nighthunters out in the woods, somewhere. They hadn’t seen any recently, but there had been signs of them. Dead trees. Half-eaten animals. The Fae who had taken on the task of riding the boundaries of the Old Place rode in pairs—and rode cautiously.

She still wasn’t sure she liked the Fae being around so much, still wasn’t sure she liked the Fae—with a few exceptions.

Remembering Fiona’s offer to find another place to sleep if she wanted her bedroom to herself so that she could have some private time with Falco made her face hot. She refused to think about that. She was hot enough as it was, and thinking about his kisses and the way his hands caressed her through her clothes whenever they found a few minutes to be alone wasn’t going to make her feel cooler.