(Nova POV)
The world felt very small and very large all at once.
Lyra lay against my bare chest, skin to skin, her tiny body warm and impossibly light. The linen swaddling cloth had been loosened so she could feel me completely — heart to heart, breath to breath. Her silver eyes — still unfocused but already so bright — blinked slowly as she rooted and latched again, nursing with the fierce little determination that had carried her through every flare and contraction.
I couldn't stop touching her.
My fingers traced the soft dark strands of her hair where faint wisps of living shadow curled through them like smoke caught in starlight. The silver glow beneath her skin pulsed gently in time with mine, balanced, steady. She was perfect. Not just beautiful — perfect in the way only something made from love and survival could be.
