POV: Anya THREE MONTHS AFTER NADIA'S BIRTH Motherhood, Anya discovered, was nothing like combat. In combat, you could predict enemy movements, plan strategies, control variables. Babies were chaos personified, unpredictable, demanding, and utterly unimpressed by her Luna status or tactical brilliance. At 3 AM, standing in the nursery with a screaming Nadia who refused every attempt at comfort, Anya felt more helpless than she ever had facing armed enemies. "What do you want?" she asked desperately, checking the baby for the hundredth time. Clean diaper. Fed thirty minutes ago. Not too hot or cold. Medically perfect according to Galina's last checkup. Yet Nadia wailed as though the world was ending. "She's lonely," came Irina's voice from the doorway. Her sister entered the nursery, hair disheveled from sleep, but moving with purpose. "May I?" Anya handed over the baby gratefully. Immediately, Nadia's crying diminished to whimpers as Irina held her, walking slow circles around th
Last Updated : 2026-01-15 Read more