The night air was crisp and cool, carrying the distant, soothing rhythm of the harbor where our ships sailed freely across unclouded waters.

Inside the nursery, the soft, steady breathing of our children rose and fell in peaceful harmony, guarded by the silent, eternal strength of Raven Hill.

Daniel pulled me close against his chest, wrapping a heavy wool blanket around my shoulders to shield me from the autumn chill. He rested his chin on my head, looking out at the glittering lights of the city stretching endlessly into the dark night.

"You know," Daniel murmured softly against my hair, "we never did check those old carriage house drainage tunnels after the last audit. There might still be a few old cobwebs hiding down there."

I smiled, turning around in his embrace and wrapping my arms securely around his neck, looking up into his stormy gray eyes with a mischievous glint.

"Let them hide, Mr. Danielson," I whispered, pulling his lips down to mine. "Because no matter how dark the tunnels get, we’ll always own the light."