For now, he buried his face in her hair and murmured promises. Thou art bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. The same words with which he’d vowed his life to Madeline, he whispered now to his unborn babe. This child would never know hunger, never feel cold. Never know the pain of fear and darkness. Not while Logan had breath in his lungs and life in his veins. And as for love . . . Even when his heart stopped beating, there would be no end to his love.
