Damien's POV
Nobody had adequately warned me about the exhaustion.
Three weeks into Elara's life, and sleep had become a luxury measured in stolen hours rather than full nights, both Aria and I taking turns pacing the nursery floor during the small hours when our daughter decided, apparently on principle, that sleep was an insult beneath her dignity.
"She has your stubbornness," I murmured, bouncing her gently as she finally began settling against my shoulder near four in the morning.
"You keep saying that," Aria said from the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, watching with warm, exhausted affection.
"Because it keeps being true." Elara's small fist curled against my collar, her breathing finally evening out into sleep. "She refuses to settle until she's decided, entirely on her own term
