The morning light was soft, like melted gold poured through gauze. I lay still for a few long seconds, the rhythm of a tiny heartbeat steady against my ribs.
Elion.
He was still curled into me, his small hand clutching the fabric of my shirt, his breath warm against my side. The glow-in-the-dark stars on his pajamas had faded, but he still looked like a galaxy unto himself — peaceful, weightless, drifting.
A quiet knock startled me.
I turned my head to see Leira peeking in, her blonde braid draped over one shoulder, still in a robe of cream silk and sleepy concern etched on her features.
"How did he do?" she whispered.
I smiled softly. "No nightmares."
Leira's eyes misted briefly. "That's the first time since… the attack."
She stepped inside, crossing to the bed. Her fingers brushed Elion's hair back with infinite tenderness, then she met my gaze and squeezed my arm.
"You're good for him."
"I think he's good for me," I whispered back.
He woke slowly, blinking up at me like he was trying to remember who he was supposed to be.
Then his face broke into a grin.
"You didn't leave."
"I said I wouldn't."
His arms wrapped around my neck again, tighter this time. "You're not allowed to go. Ever."
My heart melted.
We got dressed — he insisted on matching socks, navy with little wolves on them — and when I took his hand to walk to the dining hall, he didn't let go once.
The royal breakfast table was long but surprisingly unpretentious, lined with modern velvet chairs and set beneath a skylight that bathed everything in natural morning sun. The kitchen had sent out a small feast: croissants, eggs, pancakes, bowls of fruit, and pitchers of citrus water and hot chocolate.
Kaleb was already seated, glasses perched low on his nose, quietly reading something on a slim black tablet. Leira poured herself coffee while Max sat sideways in his chair with a muffin in one hand and a mischievous grin in place.
Kael wasn't there yet.
Good.
For now.
"Morning, Sera," Max called, mouth full. "Hope you're hungry. I warned the staff you eat like a direwolf."
I flushed. "I do not."
"She doesn't," Elion said loyally, climbing into the seat beside me. "She eats like a cloud. Like… pretty and light."
Everyone chuckled.
"I'll take that as a compliment," I said, ruffling his hair.
"He means he didn't hear you sneak extra pancakes at midnight," Max added, wagging his fork at me.
"You're insufferable," Kaleb murmured without looking up.
"You're jealous," Max replied cheerfully.
Elion began recounting his dream between bites of mango and banana slices.
"I dreamt about the Star Witch again," he said proudly. "She had glowing eyes and could float. She saved a baby wolf from the fire using her hands."
I froze.
Slowly, I brought my glass to my lips and kept my face neutral.
"She sounds brave," Kaleb said, smiling gently at him.
"She had a pendant!" Elion added. "Like Sera's, except hers glowed."
Leira glanced at me in amusement. "Have you been telling him stories?"
"Only a little," I said quietly.
"It's good," she said. "He needs stories."
And then Kael entered the room.
He moved like a shadow — sharp black suit, hair still damp from a morning shower, eyes unreadable as he crossed to the head of the table.
The temperature in the room dropped, subtly, almost imperceptibly.
Kael didn't sit immediately. He poured himself black coffee and stood, sipping it while Elion launched back into his dream.
"She saved the wolf," Elion said. "With fire magic. She used her hands and made the flames go away."
Kael's jaw flexed.
"Dreams are dangerous things," he said coldly.
The room went still.
"Especially ones filled with fantasy," he added, now looking directly at Elion. "Magic isn't light and wonder. It's destruction. It gets people killed."
I couldn't breathe.
Elion's smile faded. His spoon dropped.
"Kael," Leira warned softly.
Kaleb set down his tablet.
But Kael's eyes were on me.
He hadn't raised his voice.
But the message was clear.
If he even suspected—
"I don't think Elion meant anything by it," I said quickly, lightly. "He's a dreamer. That's a gift."
Kael looked at me for a long moment.
Then finally, he sat.
Max cleared his throat. "Well, I dreamt I was a flying squirrel last night. Should I be worried?"
Elion laughed, but it was thinner than before.
Kael didn't speak for the rest of breakfast.
And I didn't unclench my hands from my lap.
Later that morning, I stood alone in my room.
My hands trembled as I pulled the pendant out from beneath my shirt. The silver moon and stars glinted softly in the sunlight.
He didn't recognize it.
No one should.
But Kael's tone had cracked something open in me. Not fear. Not really.
Caution.
He wasn't just cruel or strict. He had history with magic. Maybe a vendetta. Maybe worse.
And if he ever found out what I was — what I carried in my blood — I wouldn't be sleeping in this room.
I'd be in chains.
Or worse.
I looked at the pendant, the only piece of my birthright I had left.
And I knew, without question:
If I wanted to survive, I would have to become very, very good at pretending I was normal.