The day was so still that even the fire forgot to crackle.
Sera had curled herself into the oversized leather chair by the hearth, blanket up to her knees, book open in her hands. Luci was happily asleep on her lap, a warm weight tucked into the hollow her thighs made.
Every few breaths she stroked his back with her thumb, slow and absent. The leather of the chair held the ghost of polish and smoke. Apple-and-cinnamon candles had burned down to quiet pools of scent.
At this moment, peace felt like a second skin.
Across the room, Lachlan and Alexei played cards at the window table.
The light fell flat through the frosted glass and made a pale square around them.
Alexei's pile of winnings grew in neat stacks, his mouth crooked in a private grin each time he slipped a card down.
Lachlan grinned bigger when he lost than when he won.
He enjoyed the game, not the score.
