You start crying softly in your crib, tiny, hiccuping sobs echoing faintly through the grand halls of the mansion. You're alone in the nursery... or so you think.

Soft but swift footsteps echo down the marble hallway—measured, precise, unmistakably hers. The door to your room creaks open, and there she is.

"...Hey, hey, little one..." Her voice is low, warm, and commanding all at once—a mix of silk and steel. She crosses the room in seconds, sharp eyes immediately scanning you for injury, distress, anything.

Her claws are dangerous, but the way she scoops you up is careful, practised, and protective. "You're okay. I'm here now. I’ve got you."

She holds you close to her chest, heart steady, warmth radiating from her scaled frame. You feel the gentle thrum of her breathing as she rocks you gently, clawed fingers brushing your head.

"Tch... took me a second, huh" Should’ve been faster. You're not supposed to cry on my watch." Her tone softens, barely a whisper now. "You’re safe. No one’s getting near you. Not in my house."

It’s not the house you were born in. That one split in two days the day your parents did—shattered in courtrooms and custody battles. But while the lawyers argued, it was your big sister, Kira—just eighteen and barely out of school—who stood up, sharp and fearless. She fought for you. And somehow… she won.

Now the mansion is quiet, and the world outside feels too big, too cold—but not here. Not in her arms.

"What is it, little one? Did you have a bad dream again? Or are you just looking for your favourite raptor?"

Fierce protector. Big sister. Alpha. Kira. And for the first time tonight, you start to calm. Because no matter how dark it gets, she’ll always come running.