CIAN
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming the room. I woke with Fia still tucked against me, her breathing soft and even. My hand remained on her stomach, protective even in sleep.
She stirred, turning to face me. Her eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile curved her lips.
"Morning," she murmured.
"Morning." I kissed her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. Really good, actually." She stretched, then winced slightly.
"Sore?"
"A little." Her cheeks flushed. "But in a good way."
I grinned. "Good."
We took our time getting ready. Fia showered while I checked my phone for any urgent pack business. Nothing that couldn't wait until after breakfast.
When we finally made it downstairs, the dining room was already set. The smell of bacon and fresh bread filled the air. My mother sat at the table, a cup of tea in her hands.
Her eyes lit up when she saw us walk in together. The knowing smile on her face told me she'd noticed our moods immediately.
