Nikolai was already stirring by the time I pushed open the heavy nursery door.
His room was dim and golden when I stepped inside, the blackout curtains drawn halfway so only a sliver of sunlight touched the ornate cradle. The chandelier overhead sparkled faintly, a warm glow against the obsidian walls and brocade drapery, a place built with love and legacy. It suited him, our tiny prince in a dark little kingdom.
A soft, confused babble drifted from the crib, followed by the unmistakable thump of a plush toy being kicked.
“Ni-ko,” I called softly.
His head popped up immediately, curls smashed to one side, lashes stuck together from sleep. He blinked at me—slow, owlish—then broke into a bright, gummy smile.
“Mama,” he greeted, reaching both arms up, demand wrapped in affection.
I lifted him into my arms. His warmth sank into my chest, the soft weight of him anchoring me in a way nothing else could. One small hand clung to the tail of his favorite plush snake, the Dominion’s serpent-crown rendered child-friendly. Cassian had gifted it as a joke, and it had become the love of Niko’s life.
He shoved the snake toward my face.
“Sss,” he hissed.
“That’s right.Snake.”
He beamed, repeating proudly, “Sss-nake.”
His little hand patted my cheek, and my heart melted like snow in spring. Those stormy blue-green eyes—Alaric’s eyes—stared up at me from beneath the stubborn brows he’d also inherited from his father. Yet there was a softness around his mouth, a gentleness in his expression that I recognized from my own reflection.
Alaric had slipped away before dawn. Just a fleeting touch at my waist, lips pressed briefly to my temple, his whisper rough with fatigue. Another night of pacing the nursery while our son’s gums tortured him.
The way Alaric’s face lit up whenever Nikolai reached for him told me everything—fatherhood had consumed him completely, transformed him. So whatever had created this distance between us had nothing to do with our son.
Nikolai tugged at my necklace, murmuring, “Up, Mama,” even though he was already being held.
I kissed his curls. “Did you nap well?”
He shook his head emphatically.No.
“You liar,” I teased with a smile.
He giggled, hiding his face in my shoulder. I changed him on the changing pad, and then carried him through the house down to the kitchen, the journey feeling a mile-long.
Angel glanced over her shoulder when I entered, a curtain of silver hair shifting like liquid light as she stirred a pot on the stove, a slight change from her usual white, blonde color. Even in something as simple as one of Derrick’s black tees and leggings, she looked impossibly put-together, porcelain skin, soft peachy lips, eyes lined just enough to make her seem like she’d tried.
She wiped her hands on a towel and came over, automatically, to give Niko some love. “He’s getting so big. I swear he grows overnight.”
“He does,” I joked lightly. “I blame Alaric. He feeds him like we’re raising a small warrior.”
She laughed under her breath. “Well kinda you are.”
I placed Nikolai in his extra highchair we kept near the breakfast bar, his tiny fists gripping his plush snake as if it were a living guardian. His little curls shook with every excited wiggle.
“What’s up with you?” Angel asked, returning to the stove.
Angel had a way of seeing through me that was both comforting and unnerving. Ever since she and Penelope had appointed themselves my confidantes, they’d become fixtures in my life—especially Angel, whose toothbrush now had a permanent spot in our guest bathroom. She and Derrick had practically moved into the east wing, claiming exhaustion after late-night strategy sessions as their excuse to stay.
I grabbed one of Niko’s clean sippy cups and pressed it against the refrigerator’s water dispenser. “Nothing’s changed since yesterday. Alaric’s still...” I paused, watching the cup fill. “He’s there, but not really there.
“That’s not unusual for men in power,” Angel reminded me. “They go silent when something is wrong and are working out a solution before bringing it up. Derrick does it too. He can’t stand not being able to solve every single problem the Dominion has on his own.”
“I know the Citadel’s been causing more issues, but this feels like something else. My father is also being creepily kind to me. He called the other day again to say good morning. I almost dialed Eirene to tell her the true harbinger must have arrived.”
Angel froze mid-stir. “Okay, yeah, that’s weird. Darius doesn’t do casual courtesy. If he says ‘good morning,’ someone’s about to be murdered by lunch.”
