Catherine's Pov
"It doesn't make any sense, she's only six months old!" Soren says to Damien, his voice tight with a mixture of awe and pure panic. I can only nod, my throat too tight to form words, because I am completely lost, drowning in a sea of confusion and fear.
I still hold Esme tightly against my chest. She is smiling up at me now, blissfully unaware, happily chewing on a soft toy without even a hint of understanding about the gravity of what she has just done. The impossible thing. The thing that should not be.
My entire body trembles with the residual shock and the sharp, guilty memory of why we are all seated here in the first place. Damien had rushed over as I'd begged, and he'd brought Nyx with him. Her son, Presley, is asleep in his carrier on a nearby chair, a picture of normalcy that feels like a cruel joke. I am just one step away from ripping my own hair out, the confusion and terror coiling tightly in my stomach.
