<h4>Chapter 355: Sharing The Weight Together</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    The pup’s tiny breaths were warm against my skin as I held him close, nursing him onest time before bed. His little hand curled around my finger with surprising strength, and the soft sounds he made almost lulled me into sleep.


    When his lips finally loosened and his eyelids fluttered shut, I carefully ced him back into his crib. He shifted once, a soft whimper leaving him, before sinking back into a deeper slumber.


    Madam Elira leaned in, her presenceforting. She brushed her hand over the baby’s nket. "He’s out like a light," she whispered, smiling warmly at me. "Now you, My Luna, should rest too. Go shower. I’ll stay with the young master."


    Gratefulness filled my chest, and I nodded quickly. "Thank you, Madam Elira."


    The warm water was exactly what I needed. It washed away the tiredness from my body, loosening stiff muscles and calming my restless mind. I lingered under the spray longer than usual, letting the steam curl around me until my skin flushed pink. By the time I stepped out, wrapped in a towel, I already felt lighter.


    I slipped into my new favorite pajamas - a soft silk set in a calming shade of purple. They always made me feel just a little braver, a little more myself. Running ab through my hair, I let it fall loose over my shoulders before stepping out of the bathroom.


    Only to freeze mid-step.


    Instead of Madam Elira, Kieran was standing by the crib.


    The dim golden glow from the smallmp washed over him, highlighting the sharp lines of his face, softened by the calmness in his expression. He was already in his pajamas too. His hair was down, brushing against his shoulders, slightly mussed from a day of running fingers through it.


    He was staring at the baby with a tenderness I wasn’t sure he let anyone else see. And for some reason, that sight made my heart thud violently inside my chest.


    As if sensing me, he looked up, and our gazes locked.


    And suddenly, every thought I had been fighting off since the game, all the whispers of how awkward this night would be... came rushing back all at once. My brain filled with noise, my body tense, and my heart... stars, my heart felt like it was going to give out.


    <fnadaf> Read full story at find?novel</fnadaf>


    I forced myself to move toward the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my nightshirt like a nervous schoolgirl. But the closer I got, the harder it became to breathe. His eyes stayed on me again, steady, unreadable, but always warm.


    Then, out of nowhere, his voice broke the silence.


    "Should I sleep in my room tonight?"


    I blinked, feeling startled, and my steps halted once again.


    He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t trying to test me. His tone was even, calm, utterly genuine. "If you are notfortable sharing the bed yet... I can go. I don’t mind."


    There was no judgment. No hidden sting. Just... consideration.


    And that was what shook me the most.


    My throat tightened. "N-no," I blurted quickly, shaking my head. "It’s alright."


    His lips curved into a faint smile, but he said nothing more.


    I swallowed hard, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Should we go to bed then?"


    "Sure."


    That one word carried the weight of an agreement... nothing more, nothing less.


    I climbed into the bed, tugging the nket up to my chin as though it might shield me from my own racing heart. My hand shot out to flick off my bedsidemp, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Only the faint glow from the pup’smp remained, casting soft light over the room.


    Kieran followed, moving with the quiet grace he always seemed to carry. The bed dipped under his weight as he settled on the other side, pulling the covers over himself before switching off hismp too.


    The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of the pup’s breathing.


    And my heart refused to calm down.


    I turned slightly on my side, staring at the faint glow against the ceiling, battling with every thought in my head. He was right there. My mate. The father of my child. The man I had secretly, quietly, hopelessly cared for in ways I had buried under guilt and fear.


    Now, he was within reach.


    And I didn’t know what to do.


    Every breath felt too loud. Every shift of the nket seemed magnified. I risked a nce out of the corner of my eye and saw him lying straight on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hadn’t moved once since lying down, as if afraid that even a small shift might disturb me.


    He was awake too.


    I almost opened my mouth to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words never came.


    Eventually, exhaustion won. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they slipped shut, pulling me into sleep despite the storm raging in my chest.


    It was the sharp, piercing cry of the pup that jolted me awake three hourster.


    I sat upright instantly, my instincts overriding everything else. My heart lurched with panic until I saw him squirming in his crib, his tiny face scrunched up as his cries filled the quiet room.


    I threw the nket aside, moving toward him, only to realize I wasn’t the only one who had reacted.


    Kieran was already out of bed.


    His tall frame bent gracefully over the crib. His hands moved with surprising skill as he scooped the pup into his arms. His voice was low, soothing, a gentle hum. "Shh... it’s alright, little one. We have got you."


    My breath caught.


    I stood frozen at the edge of the bed, watching the sight I had never imagined but would never forget. Kieran holding our son like he had been waiting for it all his life.


    The pup quieted almost immediately, nuzzling against Kieran’s chest as though he belonged there.


    Something inside me broke open at the sight. A tidal wave of emotion surged through me - love, relief, ache, disbelief - all tangled together until I couldn’t tell them apart.


    He turned then, his eyes finding mine in the dim light.


    And for the first time all night, the silence between us didn’t feel heavy. It felt... fragile. Sacred.


    "Do you need to feed him?" he asked softly, his voice warm in a way that made my chest tighten.


    I nodded and stepped forward with trembling hands.


    And as he passed the baby into my arms, his fingers brushed mine - steady, warm, grounding.


    I realized then that maybe this night wasn’t about awkward silences or racing hearts.


    Maybe it was about learning how to breathe in the same space. About sharing the weight of something new and terrifying and beautiful.


    Together.