Chapter 271
Nima
I hold Poppy's little child, a warm, wriggling bundle of sleepy contentment. He has his mother's big, curious eyes and his father's serious brow, even at barely a year old.
Then, in a soft poof of displaced air and the faint scent of milk and clover, the weight in my arms vanishes. A tiny, brown-and-white spotted bunny kit now squirms against my chest for a half-second before his powerful little hind legs kick off.
My heart drops straight through the floor.
I just lost her child.
"No, no, no—!" I whisper, scrambling to my feet as the bunny—Harry—lands on the plush rug with a soft thump and immediately bolts. A blur of fluff and terrified energy zips under the settee.
"Harry! Come back!" My voice is a panicked squeak. I drop to my hands and knees, peering into the dark space beneath the furniture. Nothing but dust and a lost button.
