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Rhys sighed. “No. Between the face and the wings, I have no defenses.”

Nyx beamed up at Rhys, as if he understood perfectly what his father was saying and the effect that little dimpled face had on the most powerful male in the world.

“Come on, you,” I said, grunting as I heaved Nyx into my arms. “Let’s get you settled.”

Nyx babbled happily in my ear, and I caught Rhys staring at us as I walked back around the bed, aiming for the nursery door. “What?”

Stars glimmered in his eyes. “I don’t have enough words to convey how much I love you,” he said hoarsely. He nodded toward our son. “How much I love him.”

“You gladly change his messiest blowouts,” I said. “Just by that alone, I know how much you love him—and me.”

“I never thought I’d be a father.” He rose to his feet, walking to me and Nyx. He stroked a knuckle down Nyx’s rosy cheek, and Nyx reached up with a fat finger to squeeze one of Rhys’s. Rhys’s smile was soft enough that my chest ached. “Never thought I’d be someone’s mate.”

“I know.” I scanned his beautiful face, the old shadow that passed over it. “But there’s no better father anywhere in this court—this land.” Probably this entire world. “And no better mate, either.”

“Motherhood has made you too nice,” Rhys said, flicking my nose affectionately. “Where’s the Feyre who threw a shoe at my head?”

“Where’s the Rhys who fucked me against a wall so hard the pictures fell off?”

Rhys burst out laughing, the sound like music. “Such a mouth, for such a fine lady. And in front of our innocent son.”

I cuddled Nyx, who was happily cooing between us. “Trust me,” I said, hauling Nyx toward his room, “with Cassian for an uncle, he’s going to grow up hearing far worse.”

Rhys followed me into the nursery, the space bedecked in variations of cream and sand, the ceiling I’d painted during my pregnancy to resemble the night sky. Rhys had enchanted it so that the stars twinkled and rotated with the seasons. The black wood cradle was just inside the door—so we could hear every little sound Nyx made—and I took a seat in the overstuffed dark blue armchair beside it, freeing a strap of my nightgown as I did.

Nyx knew the routine, and happily found my breast, nestling against me, a tiny fist clenching at my upper chest. My breasts tingled with the rush of the milk letting down, a tangible release I felt through my body, and then Nyx was sucking away, his limbs going almost impossibly softer as he relaxed.

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Rhys said from the shadows of the doorway. “It was the first time I saw it, and it still is, even all these months later.”

“The first time you saw it, you were still such a crying mess that I’m not sure you registered what was happening.”

“Forgive me if I’d just been through an ordeal, Feyre darling.”

“Worse than dying?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” I stuck out my tongue in his direction. He laughed, low and soft. “My High Lady.”

I smiled, petting Nyx’s head. His eyes fluttered closed, his long, dark lashes splaying over his rosy cheeks. “We made a very beautiful baby,” I said.

“We did.” Rhys’s voice was strained, and a glance up at him showed tears in his eyes. Not from sorrow, I knew, but from the same joy I felt, so great it could crack my heart wide open. No matter the long nights and exhausting days—it was all worth it.

I’d created a family. My friends had been my family before, and still were. But this boy in my arms . . . I was his mother, and Rhys was his father, and we were, forever and always, a family.

Nyx’s mouth popped off my breast, his head lolling back, utterly asleep. As steadily as I could, I rose to my feet and walked to the cradle. Madja had advised us to only keep the little mattress in there—no bedding, no pillows, no toys—to avoid the risk of suffocation. If I had my way, Nyx might very well be sleeping on a bare mattress until he was a grown male.

I caressed Nyx’s warm, velvety-soft cheek. “I love you,” I whispered, and stepped back from the cradle.

Rhys leaned down to brush a kiss on Nyx’s head. “I love you more,” he whispered as well.

I scowled at my mate, and Rhys kissed me, too, before he straightened. In silence, we walked back into our suite, Rhys softly shutting the door, his wings tucked in tight so they didn’t so much as rustle.

“Don’t bother buttoning up that nightgown,” Rhys growled softly behind me when the door was shut. “I plan on licking those breasts for a good—”

Rhys drew up short when he turned to me. I’d already climbed into bed, nestled amongst layers of pillows and blankets, and was leafing through his giant pile of paperwork. “You’re working?”

I lifted a piece of parchment from the middle of the stack. “I want to make sure we approve these spending proposals for the repairs on the southern colonnade at the Palace of Thread and Jewels before tomorrow morning.” The sooner they could start working on it, the better.

“Nyx is asleep.” Rhys walked to the dressing room, but paused in the doorway. He slyly assessed me over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be getting naked?”