The quiet didn’t break the next morning.
It settled.
Lila noticed it when she woke and realized her first breath hadn’t come sharp or shallow. It came slow, deep, filling her chest the way breath did when the body trusted the moment it was waking into.
Caleb slept beside her, face turned toward the window, dawn light catching in his hair. His hand still rested over her stomach, fingers curved as if they belonged there by design rather than habit.
The baby was awake.
Not restless.
Not demanding.
Present.
Lila lay there, one hand over Caleb’s, feeling the layered rhythm of three heartbeats aligned by nothing louder than choice.
For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she needed to prepare for the day.
She simply entered it.
The Alpha floor stirred gradually. No al
