The room stayed silent.
Not the calm kind of silence—but the kind that presses against the ears, heavy and expectant, as if the world itself were waiting to see what would happen next.
Arthur stood unmoving at Ray's bedside.
Kael didn't speak.
Neither did Nora.
Joren barely dared to breathe.
Then—
Ray stirred.
Just barely.
A faint, broken sound slipped from his throat. Not a scream. Not even a cry. Just a weak, pained grunt, like his body was remembering how to exist and finding it unbearable.
Kael moved instantly.
He was at Ray's side in two steps, kneeling, one hand hovering over his son's chest like he was afraid touching him might break something. Nora followed just as quickly, brushing past Arthur without even realizing she had done so.
"Ray?" she whispered, voice trembling. "Ray, it's okay. You're safe."
Ray's brow twitched. His fingers curled weakly in the sheets. Another small sound escaped him, softer this time, almost questioning.
Kael leaned closer. "I'm here," he said, rough and urgent. "You're home. You're not alone."
For a tense moment, nothing else happened.
Then Ray's breathing evened out again. The tension drained from his small frame, leaving him limp and exhausted, but no longer writhing. The pain—whatever storm had passed through him—seemed to recede, at least for now.
Nora let out a shaky breath she'd been holding far too long and pressed a hand to her chest.
"…He's okay," she murmured. "At least—at least for now."
Arthur observed the scene in silence. He said nothing. Offered nothing. But his gaze lingered on Ray a second longer than before, sharp and thoughtful, like he was committing something irrevocable to memory.
Joren cleared his throat quietly.
"I'll… I'll go," he said, voice low and firm. "Back to my place. And—" He hesitated, then looked Kael straight in the eye. "I won't speak of this. To anyone. Not the beast. Not the deterioration. Not him."
Kael met his gaze. He didn't thank him. He didn't need to.
"I know," Kael said simply.
Joren nodded once, deeply, then cast a brief glance at Arthur—quick, wary, respectful without fully understanding why. Whatever that man was, Joren knew one thing instinctively:
You did not cross him.
Without another word, Joren slipped out of the room and down the hall, the sound of the door closing faint but final.
The house settled.
Only four remained now.
Nora slowly straightened, smoothing her dress with shaking hands. She hesitated, then turned toward Arthur.
She bowed.
Not deeply. Not submissively.
But respectfully.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For saving Ray."
Arthur regarded her with mild surprise, crimson eyes studying her like she was an unexpected variable. She met his gaze without flinching—nervous, but steady.
"You're Kael's father," Nora continued gently. It wasn't an accusation. Just a statement. "I… I didn't know. He never—"
"That is not your fault," Arthur said, interrupting her calmly.
Nora nodded. "Still… I'm grateful. Truly."
Arthur inclined his head the barest fraction. Not acknowledgment. Not quite dismissal.
"Gratitude is unnecessary," he replied. "I did not act for thanks."
Nora hesitated, then asked softly, "Will… will Ray be alright?"
Arthur's eyes flicked briefly back to the sleeping boy.
"He will live," he said. "That is all that can be promised tonight."
Nora accepted that answer without argument. She returned to Ray's side, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, brushing a hand through his hair with infinite tenderness.
Kael remained standing.
He hadn't moved.
Hadn't spoken.
Finally, he said quietly, without turning around, "So what now?"
Arthur looked at him.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, with calm certainty:
"Now," Arthur replied, "you stop pretending you can shelter him from the world."
Kael's shoulders stiffened.
"And I decide," Arthur continued evenly, "how much of that world will be allowed to reach him."
The implication was unmistakable.
Arthur stepped back from the bed, cloak whispering softly as it settled. He did not approach the door yet. He was in no hurry.
Tonight, he had found something rare.
Something dangerous.
Something his shadow would not let go of again.
Ray slept on, unaware—
that the moment his soul had screamed loud enough to be noticed,
the course of his life had already been rewritten.