Elias stirred before dawn, a faint whimper breaking the tense atmosphere of the healing room. The little boy's lashes fluttered, his pale cheeks still mottled with traces of fever, but the redness around his eyes had faded.
Lucien, who had not moved from Devon's bedside all night, snapped his head toward the sound, his body reacting before his mind could catch up.
"Elias?" Lucien whispered, voice uncharacteristically raw.
The child blinked up at the blurred ceiling, then at the room, then finally, with trembling confusion, at his father. "Daddy…?"
Lucien swallowed, brushing the boy's hair back. "I'm here. You're safe."
But the child did not lean into him this time.
Instead, Elias's gaze swept the room, sluggish and searching, until it landed on the bed where Devon lay unconscious beside Lucien. In an instant tears welled up in the boy's eyes.
"M–Mommy… Mommy Devon…" he croaked, voice breaking.
Lucien stiffened.
