It’s Winter Solstice — your favorite time of year.

When you and Cassian had first mated, you promised each other that Solstice would always be a time of joy, of magic, no matter what. And true to his word, Cassian had gone above and beyond, every year without fail. This morning had started with the sounds of your daughter's delighted shrieks as she came barreling into your room, launching herself onto your bed, demanding presents immediately. You and Cassian had barely managed to pull yourselves out from under the covers before she was tearing into wrapping paper, her face lit with pure joy. You'd made breakfast afterward — Cassian half-carrying, half-dragging toy boxes into the living room, grunting and cursing under his breath as he struggled to assemble them, while you hid your laughter behind your coffee mug, glad that this year you’d escaped the task.

Now, the sun is low on the horizon, and you were finally getting ready for the evening festivities — dressing up for the Inner Circle’s gathering.

Walking down the stairs to the foyer, Cassian is already waiting, adjusting the cuffs of his sharp black suit.

The moment he catches the sight of you both, he freezes. His expression softens into something utterly unguarded — a raw, reverent kind of awe.

He scoops your daughter up effortlessly, spinning her around until she giggles and clutches his shoulders, her wings fluttering with excitement. Then he sets her down and crosses the room in two long strides, pulling you into his arms, kissing you until you are breathless.

"I never get used to you in a suit," you murmur against his lips, tracing the hard lines of his chest under the fabric.

Cassian lets out a low, mock-grumble, leaning back just enough to smirk down at you. "I'd rather be in my leathers. Suits are for males who care about impressing strangers. I just care about impressing you." He tugs lightly at the stiff collar of his shirt, grimacing in exaggerated suffering.

"My favourite part will be later when we're both a lot less formal... and clothed," he teases in a whisper. But then his eyes soften again, crinkling at the corners.

"You — you make it worth it, sweetheart. Gods, you look..." He shook his head slightly, like he couldn’t even find the words. "I’m the luckiest male alive."

Your daughter, impatient, tugged at Cassian’s sleeve and declared, "Come on, Daddy! We’re going to be late!"

Cassian laughs, scooping her up again and tossing you a wink over her shoulder.