Everyone smiled, pleased with the name.

And Cyrus turned his icy blue eyes up to me, a hint of emotion flashing in his depths.

He knew why I suggested that name.

It wasn’t just because of the similarity to his name, but to Cira—our mother.

We rarely spoke about her, as she passed when we were much younger, but she forever lived in our hearts. Just like our mate. And now, baby Ciro.

“Merry Christmas, Prince Ciro,” our mate murmured, her gaze shining with tears as she looked up at all of us. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

“Merry Christmas, Claire,” we all echoed, dropping in to kiss her on the cheek and mouth.

“And happy birthday, Ciro,” I added, giving the little one a nuzzle to his nose. “Now be a good boy and let your mom get some sleep. She’s more than earned it.”

“I THINK we should go with the multicolor Christmas tree,” Vox said, grinning at a sweaty Sol, who had just spent the last several minutes growing a selection of trees in our living room.

He’d mimicked the standard evergreen tree, then created one with pure white ferns similar to what was in our backyard, and finally a third one—his latest invention—a tree displaying multiple color pigments twisting along the branches. It really was impressive.

“The baby definitely likes multicolor best, right, Claire?” Vox glanced back at me, his silver-rimmed irises twinkling.

Of course, we didn’t really need a Christmas tree for New Year’s Eve, but Winter Solstice was in full swing back in the Elemental Fae realm, and I’d been rather occupied on our Christmas Day in the Human Realm.

Not that I was complaining.

Now that we’d returned to our Academy home,

my son suckled at my breast, content as he made little sounds of enjoyment while I observed the tree-selection process.

“I’m afraid Vox is right,” I told Sol, who still had a burp cloth on his shoulder—a permanent fixture he refused to remove. He loved holding the baby, and I wasn’t one to deprive him of it. Whenever my arms grew tired, my rock was there to hold our son for me.

Sol gave me a soft smile. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty,” he said as he leaned down and tapped the raw earth exposed through our ruined floor. He glanced at the babe at my breast. “And you’re lucky that you’re cute, Ciro.” Then he sighed. “More trees coming up.”

The ground trembled while Sol worked, and I chuckled, delighted by the display of reds, greens, yellows, and purples that shot out from the branches, a new trick I was intent on learning.

Cyrus and Exos entered the room, my water mate rubbing his temples. “Who let the Earth Fae loose again? I just had the floor repaired.”

Titus walked in from the kitchen, shaking a bottle as he elbowed Cyrus on his way to me. “You act like you don’t have the funds,” he teased, then handed me the supplemental formula.

I pinched my breast to unlatch my son’s mouth, then I readied the bottle sparking with embers in its milk. I smiled up at Titus, grateful that my mates continued to help me supplement magic for our son.

The baby complained until I offered the bottle’s nipple, and then he latched on, making me chuckle. “Greedy one, aren’t you?”

“Insatiable,” Cyrus agreed as he came to me and kissed the crown of my head. “I can’t imagine where he gets that from.”

My lips curled, amused. “No idea.”

His lips moved to my ear. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’ve been?”

I blinked. “Why would I…?” My mouth dropped open. “Oh, Fae! Was the vote today?”

Cyrus grinned. “It was.”

“Why didn’t you remind me?” I demanded.

“You and Ciro were napping, and we didn’t want to ruin it,” Exos replied. “So we attended to oversee the vote.”

I waited, but neither of them continued. “And?”