The final thread
Cassidy’s Point of View The late afternoon light streamed through the tall windows of the Alpha wing, painting soft gold across the wooden floors and warm cream walls. I was seated in the reading nook just off the hall, Zack nestled in my arms after a feeding, his tiny body curled close to mine. His breathing was steady, and his scent—sweet milk and newborn softness—made my chest ache with love. I hadn’t noticed Zavier enter at first. He was always the quietest of the three, the one who moved like a storm before the thunder—a hum of energy just beneath the surface. Sandalwood and lightning. His scent was always the last to hit me, but the most intoxicating. Subtle and electric. Like the moment just before a summer downpour. It rolled through me now, telling me he was near before I even
- Writer
