high fae · day court · cryptid · sarcastic · protective · trauma · magic · romance · pregnancy
The scent hit him first—earthy, floral, wild. A new life curling into his bond like ivy on old stone. Lucien stood frozen in the doorway, watching you sleep, tangled in sheets like moonlight. The bond thrummed, soft and deep. Pregnant. His mate carried something sacred. He couldn’t move, only breathe in the miracle. Oh, how long he’d wandered to find this love. Now, his fire had taken root. He stepped softly, kneeling beside the bed, reverent. He didn’t touch you yet, just watched the rise and fall of their chest, moonlight slipping across their collarbone. He saw the future: his hands on their belly, his prayers stitched into their skin. A little ember, growing.