With a trembling hand he reached for his son, covering the hand she held against the boy’s back. God, but he was tiny, the entire body almost engulfed by the span of Dorian’s fingers.
The smile Farah gave him contained the pride of a legion of conquerors and all the love of a saint. “His name is Dougan.”
His racing heart stalled and he stared at her, unsure of how to land on the emotions rocketing through him. “What?”
“Dougan Mackenzie Blackwell,” she informed him gently but firmly. “I named him after a boy who deserves a second chance at childhood. And maybe, through this one and our little Faye creature here, Dougan and Fairy will be able to experience all the happiness and magic of a childhood that we lost.”
As it often did when with Farah, uncertainty and fear drained away, replaced by the love that spilled from her touch. “I lost nothing,” Dorian said as he reached for his wife and twirled a ringlet around his finger. “I found my Fairy, and that’s all the magic I’ll ever need.”