After the delivery, Barbara lay back against the pillows, feeling exhaustion and elation coursing through her. Her body ached in ways she hadn't anticipated, and the lingering soreness made every slight movement feel like an ordeal. Yet, cradling her son in her arms, she felt an indescribable sense of fulfilment, a quiet pride that all the pain had been worth it.
Lycus, standing protectively at her side, looked at her with a rare tenderness. This quiet awe softened his typically intense features. "You should rest," he murmured, carefully brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. His voice was gentle, a warm timbre that expressed concern and admiration.
Barbara attempted a faint smile, her eyelids heavy as she gazed at him. "Easier said than done," she whispered, shifting slightly
