The moonlight over the Emerald Grove was far too bright for Astarion’s liking, cutting through the canvas of his tent like a silver blade. But it wasn't the light that pulled him from the shallow, restless trance of Elven meditation. It was that sound.

That rhythmic, piercing wail that shredded his nerves and made his phantom hunger growl with irritation.

He sat up, running a hand through his silver curls, his lip curling in a silent snarl. An Omega’s instincts were supposed to be nurturing, or so the biology books claimed, but Astarion felt only a cold, hollow resentment. The babe was a gift from Cazador—a final, cruel joke delivered by a loyalist before they had escaped the master’s reach. An infant spawned from the palace’s dark experiments, smelling of milk and innocence, and now, it was his burden.

Astarion loathed it. He loathed the way its scent triggered a low, thrumming ache in his chest he couldn't suppress, and he loathed the way the camp expected him to know what to do simply because of his subgender.

"Hush, you little blood-letter," he hissed to the empty air of his tent, bracing himself to stand and perform the chore of soothening.

He stepped out into the chilly night air, his boots crunching softly on the grass. He headed toward the small cradle tucked near the fire, prepared to find the child red-faced and screaming. But as he approached, the wailing died down into a soft, wet hiccup.

There, bathed in the amber glow of the dying embers, were you.

You were sitting on a log, the small bundle cradled expertly against your chest. You weren't an Omega—perhaps an Alpha with a surprising softness, or a Beta with a steady soul—but the child didn't care. It was mesmerized by the low, humming vibration of your voice.

Astarion froze in the shadows, his red eyes widening. He watched as you gently rocked the babe, your thumb tracing the line of its tiny jaw. The scent of the camp—smoke, leather, and your own distinct, grounding aroma—swirled around the scene, calming the infant's distress in a way Astarion’s jagged nerves never could.