Damian chuckled.
Low, warm, and entirely unguarded, the kind of sound that didn't belong in throne rooms or war camps, but in early mornings and places called home. The kind of sound that gave Gabriel shivers despite the dull ache still gripping his body, despite the weight of what they had just realized.
Damian leaned closer, brushing his knuckles lightly against the baby's downy cheek, his voice slipping into something too soft to be anything but real.
"Well," he murmured, golden eyes never leaving the child's face, "it seems like he doesn't have to take the trial like me."
Gabriel turned his head slightly, breath catching.
"Ether has chosen him," Damian said, reverent now. "Without it."
"Great," Gabriel muttered, his voice dry, but his eyes still locked on the baby's face. "So you're a menace like your parents."
