The nursery was no longer a sanctuary of soft silks and quiet lullabies; it had become the epicenter of a terrifying biological and cosmic anomaly.
Gwen sat at the edge of the large oak bed, her hands gripping the mattress so hard the wood groaned under her fingers. Her amber eyes were wide, fixed on the wooden bassinet that had grown too small within a matter of hours. The air inside the room did not circulate; it vibrated with a heavy, golden-violet static that smelled of ozone, crushed lilies, and newborn skin. The white light that had consumed Prince Kael's eyes during the great tectonic shift had receded, but the primordial energy left behind had found a different, more terrifying way to manifest.
He was growing.
