One hour later:
Dominic combed Selene's curls softly.
The little girl sat on a small vanity stool by the wide mirror, swinging her legs softly. She was dressed in a cream-colored pajamas dotted with tiny blue stars. Her curls framed her round face, and her sleepy eyes reflected her father's patient focus in the mirror.
"Daddy?"
Dominic paused mid-stroke. He met her gaze through the mirror's reflection.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
Selene blinked slowly, "Did Uncle Ronan bring bad news earlier today?"
Dominic's hand stilled.
He stayed quiet for a heartbeat, then leaned forward slightly and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. His palm cupped both sides of her small face, warm and steady.
He didn't want her to see the flicker in his eyes, or the brief weight behind his calmness.
Then he lifted her from the stool into his arms, her body fitting perfectly against his chest. He ran his hand through her soft curls.
