Chapter 3

Ella

2 years later

The dial tone that's blasting through the Bluetooth in my car stops with a click, and I hear my sister's voice as she picks up. "Hello?"

"I miss my babies!" I cry dramatically, as I turn onto the motorway and settle in for the long, long drive ahead of me.

Grace immediately bursts out laughing. "Ella, it's been less than fifteen minutes since you left them here with me. But…I understand." She chuckles a little more, and I can hear her moving around her home. "They're safe and happy and asleep—well. Rylah is sleeping. Rowan's wide awake and sitting up staring silently at his sister. That's a bit creepy. Does he do that a lot?"

I let out a chuckle of my own. "Uh, yeah, he does. Protective instincts, maybe?"

"Well, if that's what it is, then he makes a great twenty-minutes-older brother."

I grin as I picture the two, relaxing tandem in the large cot I set up in Grace's spare room, green skin, the same shade as their father's, bright and healthy in the morning sun. Immediately my eyes fill with tears, and I sniff. My heart tugs painfully to get back to their chubby little cheeks flushed with pink, their big eyes shining trustingly up at me, such a dark brown they look black, just like their father's…

"Did you just sniffle?" Grace's voice softens. "Aw, baby, it's okay! They're going to be happy and safe, and it won't be too long before you settle in, and I can bring them right over to you! They'll be in your arms again in no time, you'll see."

It was one of the more difficult decisions in my life, but after nearly a year of dealing with judging looks masked behind smiles whenever I went out with my babies in my small town, always having to lug myself to Salt Lake for everything from specially shaped pacifiers to cater for when their little nub tusks came through at six months, to specialty formula since my human body couldn't make enough to feed

two big orc babies, and the last straw—not being able to find decent local daycare options to cater to their needs, I finally bit the bullet and chose to move out of town.

"I know," I mutter to Grace. "I just miss them."

"I know," she repeats back at me, before I hear a loud clatter in the background followed by Lucas's guilty voice, and Grace sighs. "Let me go make sure my son hasn't destroyed anything important. How about I call you back when your twins are both awake, and we'll see if we can get them to say hello?"

"Sounds like a plan," I reply, and I hang up with a press of a button on my steering wheel, as I stare out at the road ahead of me.

It isn't that I minded so much having to drive a little more to provide for my twins. It's the feeling of not being one hundred percent welcome in my own town. Not entirely accepted. I was beginning to feel like an outsider in the very place I grew up in, and that's just not something I ever want my children to feel.

And I don't want them growing up in the cold grips of a big city, either.

So after a hell of a search, I've found myself what seems to be the perfect job, in what seems to be the perfect town of Whispering Pines, Idaho. An all-magical community with, according to my google searching, a welcoming attitude towards humans.

It's almost fate, how this all came about. I'd been exploring fae communities around America, wondering if I'd have to switch career paths or move so far from home that I'd barely ever come back, when an older witch named Ismelda working at a small local government contacted me, having found me through my LinkedIn profile, and offered me a job.

A job that promised not only a substantial salary, but the opportunity for me to be able to continue as a project manager while working locally within her community, a community that would not only support my children, but allow them to flourish. And apparently, the project was one that would promote human-fae relations, which I was all about these days. I'd hit ‘reply' to her email so hard I practically burned a hole in my keyboard.

I'd flown through the interview process, feeling so strongly that this was the exact right thing for me, I'm sure I probably put her off a bit with my enthusiasm. After a video interview with a minotaur, and a few more emails with the lovely witch who promised she knew the boss and would put in a good word for me, I was hired.

I immediately started looking for my new place, and within a month I had my entire home packed up and ready for transfer. My house has just been sold, the new townhouse I found is ready for me to start setting up once the movers arrive, and my first day on the job is hurling towards me at breakneck speed in just a few days. I've never been so excited for a fresh start in my life.

It won't be long now before my furniture arrives and I can set up and have my babies back, and they'll be safe and cared for and happy.

After hours and hours of driving, the sun begins to dip low in the sky and I exit the motorway. I get my first glance at Whispering Pines nestled at the foot of a gorgeous, rolling mountain, half surrounded by a lush green pine forest.

When I enter the town, I can't stop the rush of emotions that come over me as I drive past an abundance of quaint, mismatching houses of varying sizes and shapes as if catering to a sea of different creatures—which is probably exactly the case. Trees line the streets of the suburbs, children of varying colors of the rainbow play in yards and even along the streets, as if there's no worry of danger at all.

I pass through a more shopping-district looking area and I can't keep my eyes off the darling little stores displaying a variety of knick-knacks and items that I couldn't even hope to name, some jetting out puffs of smoke and some whirring and spinning in the window display. I can't help but feel I stepped into wonderland.

This is going to be my new home, and it's perfect. My life is finally, finally everything I've ever wished for. I have my career, I have my babies, and I have what is promising to be the perfect place to raise them.

The only thing missing is the father of my twins. But life doesn't always go as planned, and this is probably the closest I'll ever get to perfection.

And that's just fine by me.