“I threw up earlier,” Evangeline whispered. Aedion said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Better than shitting your pants, sweetheart.” Evangeline let out a belly laugh that made her clutch the cup to keep from spilling. Aedion grinned, and ruffled her red-gold hair. “The battle won’t be pretty,” he said as Evangeline sipped her milk. “And you will likely throw up again. But just remember that this fear of yours? It means you have something worth fighting for—something you care so greatly for that losing it is the worst thing you can imagine.” He pointed to the frost-covered windows. “Those
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