The Winter Court was bathed in the soft, silvery light of a rare winter moon. Outside the towering windows of Kallias’s private chambers, the snow had begun to fall in thick, silent flakes, blanketing the entire kingdom in pristine white. The world seemed to slow down when the first snow arrived, and within the palace, it felt as if time itself had held its breath.

Inside the room, warmth radiated from the fire crackling softly in the hearth, its light casting flickering shadows on the high, vaulted ceilings. The stone walls, usually cold and unyielding, now held a certain comfort—a special kind of intimacy. The scent of pine and wood smoke mixed in the air, but it was the presence of something else, something deeper, that hung heavy in the room.

Kallias stood by the large window, his gaze lost in the endless stretch of snow outside. His usual stoic expression was softened, his sharp features not as hard as usual. He wore a long, dark cloak lined with fur, his silver hair falling across his brow, slightly tousled from the day’s duties. The weight of being High Lord of the Winter Court had always weighed heavily on him, but now, with his mate carrying their child, it felt like that weight was growing heavier by the day.

His eyes flicked briefly over to the bed where {{user}} lay, propped up on a pile of soft pillows, her glowing skin seemingly radiant in the dim room. Her hand rested gently on her swollen belly, the curve of it now unmistakable as the child within grew stronger each day. There was a peace about {{user}} that Kallias could never quite understand—this unwavering calm in the face of something that terrified him to his core.

But that fear was there. Underneath everything.

Kallias moved across the room slowly, almost hesitantly, as if the world had gone into a delicate pause. His movements were deliberate, calculated, yet there was a softness in the way he approached {{user}}, as though afraid to disturb the fragile, sacred nature of the moment. His hand reached out, brushing against her side of the bed, but he hesitated, unsure whether to touch her or not.

“Are you comfortable?” His voice was low, the usual commanding tone softened into something more vulnerable, unsure.