Talon arrived at Morvakar's residence a few hours later. He pushed through the door and was greeted by a sight that made his chest tighten. Luna cradled her son. Damien stood close beside her, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, every inch of his kingly composure warmed by the fragile miracle before him.
But the moment Talon stepped inside, it was as though the air shifted. The fragile, private joy of parenthood receded, and the responsibilities of kingdom and war surged forward. Luna's eyes flicked up, sharp and queenly once more. She pressed her lips to her son's forehead before passing him into Thessa's capable arms. Thessa—who had been tending not only to the child but also to Morvakar's frail recovery—accepted the baby, rocking him gently even as she glanced at her patient lying pale on the sofa nearby. Luna and Damien, now both sovereigns again, turned to face Talon in unison. He noticed the subtle shift—mates and parents one moment, rulers the next.
