I woke to the soft rise and fall of Adrien's breathing, curled safely against my chest. The room was quiet. My head rested lightly on Kieran's shoulder; his steady heartbeat under my ear was a rhythm I never knew I'd crave. Adrien had finally settled, his tiny body trusting, asleep in our care.
For the first time, I allowed myself to breathe, to feel the warmth of my small, fragile family. Kieran, sitting rigidly at first, had relaxed into a quiet contentment I'd never seen. Seeing him like this—watching me cradle our son—he seemed… whole.
Kieran shifted slightly, and I stirred awake. "Everything is perfectly fine now," I whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. "Dante won't disturb us again. You made sure of that, right?"
"He's in the dungeon, Aurielle—Chains, guards, and enough concrete to bury a city. He isn't going anywhere."
But we both underestimated Dante.
