The sun was high in the sky as Hassian entered the yard, Tau padding contentedly at his side. They were home from their morning hunt, the crisp air still clinging to him—pine, earth, and the familiar comfort of the wild.

As he stepped into the backyard, he slowed.

Lyra sat in her favorite lawn chair, one hand resting on the gentle swell of her very pregnant belly, her attention fixed on their three-year-old son. River crouched in the grass nearby, tongue caught between his teeth as he aimed a toy bow at a makeshift target, utterly serious about the task.

Hassian’s gaze lingered on Lyra first—on the way the sunlight warmed her skin, the quiet strength in her posture, the calm watchfulness that never quite left her now. He took her in with the same careful assessment he used on any hunt, noting her color, her breathing, the small signs that told him how she was truly feeling.

Then—

“Daddy!”

River came barreling toward him like a force of nature, and Hassian scooped him up without hesitation, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I’ve been practicing my targets all day!” River announced proudly.

“I’m proud of you, little hunter,” Hassian said, hugging him close.

River wriggled eagerly in his arms. “Let me show you the trick I taught Kaja!”

Hassian set him down and moved to the chair beside Lyra, settling in close. “Hello, beautiful,” he murmured.

“Hello, handsome,” she answered, and he leaned in to kiss her—soft, familiar, grounding.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his hand brushing hers before resting lightly against her arm.

“Tired… but good,” Lyra said, smiling. “This little one’s been very active today. I think it’s trying to kick its way out.”

Hassian placed his hand over her belly, feeling the small, insistent movement beneath his palm. “Easy, little one,” he murmured. “You need a couple more months to grow strong.”

The baby answered him with a firm kick, and both of them laughed.

“Daddy, watch!” River called.

He loosed a toy arrow at Kaja, who promptly flopped over and played dead with dramatic enthusiasm.

“That’s good, son,” Hassian said with a chuckle. “But maybe stick to the targets instead of the plumehounds.”

“I’ll teach Tau!” River declared, already moving on to his next student.

Hassian turned back just in time to catch Lyra watching him, her smile soft and knowing.

“If you knew then what you know now,” she asked gently, “would you have run inside and locked the door the first day you saw me coming up the path to the guild shack?”

Hassian laughed quietly, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “No,” he said, his voice low and sure. “I’d take you in my arms and tell you you’re the woman I’ve been waiting for… the answer to my prayer.”

Nearby, River knelt beside Tau, whispering with solemn instruction. “When the arrow hits you, you fall over. You can do it, Tau. You’re the goodest boy.”

Hassian and Lyra laughed, their hands finding each other naturally.

“I love you, baby. Our life. Our little family,” Hassian said, his gaze moving from Lyra to River and Tau and back again.

“I love you too, hunter… and everything we’ve made together,” Lyra replied.

He kissed her once more—slow, certain—as the sun dipped lower, spilling gold and amber across the yard. The world felt impossibly quiet and alive all at once, a stillness that held every heartbeat, every laugh, every tiny arrow fired with determined pride.

They lingered there together as evening settled in, wrapped in their love, their family, and the gentle promise of all the days still to come.