Chapter 348: Quiet Fires and Soft Cries

Sophia stood where she was for a moment after Orion left, staring at the door as if he might open it again, cloak swinging back over his shoulder, that familiar half-smile on his face. But the quiet remained, stretching thin and heavy around her.

She exhaled and turned away.

The hearth was still warm, embers glowing softly, the fire crackling low and steady. The warmth kissed her skin as she moved through the room, shrugging out her clothes piece by piece. The day had weighed on her more than she realized—her muscles ached, her head throbbed faintly, and exhaustion wrapped around her like a thick blanket.

She yawned as she slipped beneath the covers, the bed already bearing Orion’s scent. That alone made her chest tighten, but she let herself sink into the mattress anyway, turning onto her side.

Sleep took her faster than she expected.

When she woke, the light had shifted.

Soft orange hues bled through the window, the sky outside already sliding toward evening, the snow falling making it even more beautiful. For a moment, she lay still, disoriented, blinking slowly as awareness returned. The hearth had dimmed but was still alive, the fire reduced to a low glow.

She sat up slowly and noticed Orion still wasn’t back.

Sophia frowned faintly, rubbing at her eyes. She hadn’t meant to sleep that long. A glance outside confirmed it—late evening, shadows stretching across the ground, the pack settling into its quieter rhythms.

She didn’t want to be alone, especially if she was awake. She could read a novel, but she wasn’t in the mood for one.

She dressed quickly, pulling on simple but warm clothes and slipping her feet into her boots, her cloak over her shoulder as she decided to visit Brynhild.

The walk to Brynhild and Lysander’s home was short, the air cool against her skin. Pack members still moved about as she walked. Some stared and even greeted her, while some others pretended she didn’t exist, and a few just glared.

As long as no one approached her, she didn’t really care.

She reached the door to Brynhild and Lysander’s home just as a sharp cry pierced the air.

Sophia stiffened.

She pushed the door open—and immediately stepped into chaos.

Raina’s cries filled the house, loud and piercing, her small voice echoing against the walls. Brynhild stood near the hearth, rocking slightly, her face pinched with worry as she tried to soothe the baby.

Sophia knew that even though Brynhild didn’t turn, she knew Sophia was in the house.

"Sophia," she said quietly, though Raina’s cries nearly swallowed the word.

Sophia moved closer instinctively. "What’s wrong? Is she hurt?"

Brynhild shook her head with a soft chuckle that carried more exhaustion than humor. "No, no. She’s fine. Just... withdrawal."

Sophia blinked. "Withdrawal?"

Brynhild nodded. "Lysander was holding her. He stepped out to bathe, and the moment he left—" she gestured helplessly as Raina wailed again. "This happened."

Sophia stared, then glanced around. "Where is he?"

"Just stepped into the room," Brynhild said. "He’ll be back any moment."

She sighed, bouncing Raina gently. "Normally, at this stage, babies are attached to their mothers," she added with a small laugh. "But clearly, Raina has decided to be... different."

Sophia couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. "She already has strong opinions."

Brynhild snorted softly. "That’s putting it mildly."

Sophia hesitated for only a second. "Can I... hold her?"

Surprise crossed Brynhild’s face, then she smiled wider. "Of course."

She carefully transferred Raina into Sophia’s arms, guiding her hands gently. "Support her head like this. Yes—there. Keep her close."

Sophia adjusted, holding Raina against her chest the way Brynhild showed her. Raina’s cries hiccupped, her tiny fists clenching against Sophia’s shirt.

Sophia swayed gently, rocking side to side, murmuring softly—nothing specific, just a quiet sound meant to soothe rather than speak.

Within seconds, Raina stilled.

A soft hiccup escaped her lips—and then silence.

Sophia froze.

Brynhild frowned.

They both looked down at Raina, who had gone completely calm, her lashes fluttering as she relaxed against Sophia.

Brynhild released a sound that was a mix of shock and amusement. "Goddess! What just—"

Sophia blinked in shock too. "I didn’t... do anything."

Brynhild let out a breathless laugh. "Sophia, I breastfed her. I sang to her. I walked her around the room for ten minutes—and she was still screaming. You held her for less than a minute."

Sophia glanced down at the baby in her arms. Raina’s breathing had evened out, her tiny body heavy with sleep.

"Maybe she just needed a change," Sophia offered weakly.

Brynhild shook her head, laughing quietly. "No. No, this is suspicious. You might be a baby whisperer."

Sophia huffed softly. "I’m not sure I’ve ever even held a baby properly before."

"Well," Brynhild said dryly, "you might want to start reconsidering that."

They fell quiet after that, both wary of waking Raina. Sophia continued to rock gently, careful with every movement. The room felt different now—softer, warmer, the earlier tension replaced by something almost sacred.

After a while, Sophia shifted carefully. "I should put her down."

She took a step toward the crib—but Raina let out a tiny sound of protest, her small fingers curling into Sophia’s shirt.

Sophia froze mid-step.

"Oh," she whispered.

Brynhild smiled widely. "Oh, she’s definitely picked you."

Sophia laughed silently, unsure what to do now.

Thankfully, the bedroom door opened quietly.

Lysander stepped out, freshly dressed, his hair still damp. He took in the scene with one glance—Sophia holding Raina, Brynhild watching with amusement—and smiled.

He gave Sophia a small nod. "Looks like I missed something."

Sophia returned the nod, lowering her voice. "She calmed down."

"So I see," Lysander said, stepping closer.

Sophia carefully transferred Raina into his arms. For a split second, everyone held their breath—waiting.

Raina shifted, then settled instantly against her father’s chest.

No crying. She just sighed and went back to sleep.

Brynhild groaned softly. "I’m the one who carried her for months. I was even placed on bed rest too."

Lysander chuckled under his breath. "And yet, here we are."

Brynhild scoffed. "You didn’t put a potion in the treatment you gave me while I was pregnant, did you? Or use black magic?"

Lysander laughed quietly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "I did neither. I promise."

He glanced between the two women. "I’ll give you some space. You both look like you have things to talk about."

With that, he carried Raina back toward the bedroom, his steps careful and slow.

Sophia and Brynhild shared a quiet laugh once he was gone.

Sophia exhaled. "She’s cute."

Brynhild smiled softly. "She is."

They settled onto the chairs near the hearth, the fire casting gentle shadows across the room.

After a moment, Sophia spoke, her voice low. "How are you healing?"

Brynhild turned to her.