The morning sun poured through the tall glass windows of the Spire's medical room, painting the clean white floor with warm, golden light.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the room was completely peaceful.
Nikki sat on the edge of the soft medical bed, leaning her head against Adonis's broad shoulder. Together, they looked down into the padded drawer that they were using as a little crib.
The baby was fast asleep. His tiny chest moved up and down in a smooth, easy rhythm. The angry red fever lines were completely gone, leaving his little cheeks a healthy, happy pink. He had one tiny fist tucked under his chin, and the other was tightly grabbing a piece of Adonis's brand-new, black-and-white marbled armor.
"He is incredibly strong," Adonis whispered, his deep voice softer than a summer breeze. He didn't move an inch, afraid that if he pulled away, he would wake the sleeping boy. "He fought the poison like a true warrior."
