(Nova POV)
The solar was bathed in the soft golden light of late afternoon, the kind that made everything feel warm and safe and full of possibility.
I stood by the tall window, one hand resting on the gentle curve of my belly where our second child was growing. The silver glow beneath my skin had deepened with this pregnancy, steady and warm, like a quiet sunrise that never quite faded. Lyra, now four and a half, was playing on the rug near the hearth with her favorite wooden wolf, the faint shadow wisps in her dark curls shimmering whenever she concentrated.
Damien sat on the cushioned bench beside me, his arm around my waist, his other hand gently covering mine over the swell. The bond between the three of us hummed with quiet joy — silver light from me, tempered shadow from him, and Lyra's bright spark weaving through it all like a living thread of starlight and midnight silk.
