>>Third Person POV
The faint hum of the teleportation circle filled the room like the low murmur of a tide about to turn. Magic etched in magic symbols glowed beneath Amber's boots, flickering with soft white light. But she wasn't looking at the ground.
Her eyes were fixed on the crib.
Just a few steps away, Zola lay beneath a light cotton blanket, her little body still, cheeks flushed with a warmth that was just enough to set every nerve in Amber's spine on edge. Her tiny breaths came steady but shallow, and her brow was faintly furrowed, as if the fever had followed her into her dreams.
Amber's hands were clenched at her sides.
Six months.
That's how long it had been since Zola had entered their lives and changed everything. She had slowly begun to form attachments—to their voices, to their arms, to the rhythm of the house. And lately, to Hael.
But still, Zola reached for Amber first. Still, her cries softened quickest in her mother's arms.
