Diana's POV
After yesterday's confrontation with Sarah and the tense council meeting, I'd deliberately cleared my schedule for a few precious hours with Damian.
My son sat cross-legged on a cushion at the low table, his tongue poking out in concentration as he carefully painted a small river stone. His collection had started when Lucian taught him to skip rocks on the lake near our home. Now, wherever we went, Damian collected stones to transform into tiny works of art.
"Look, Mommy!" He held up a stone painted with wobbly purple petals. "It's a moonflower, like the ones that grow behind our house."
"It's beautiful, sweetheart." I smiled, watching him beam with pride. "Your painting is getting better every day."
"Alpha Lucian says artists need to practice every day," he informed me se
