The next morning, Aamon entered Jade's room without a sound. The curtains were drawn, the light filtered thin and pale through the fabric, turning the air inside the room quiet and dust-soft. Jade lay where he had left her, still as stone except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
Aamon sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her face as if he could will her back into wakefulness by looking hard enough. Her color was wrong. Too pale. Too drained. Interstice had taken something from her. She was back in the Mortal Realm, but Interstice clung to her like a frost that refused to melt.
"When will you come back to me?" he whispered. The words slipped out before he could stop them, low and private, meant for no one but the sleeping girl before him. He brushed the side of her face with the back of his fingers. The contact was gentle, careful. He remembered the first burns. The way she'd flinched and tried to hide it.
Jade did not flinch this time. She didn't even stir. That fed the fear growing in his chest, the dread that she might simply stay like this. That her body would keep breathing while her mind drifted somewhere unreachable.
Jade looked worn out, almost translucent. She had lost too much energy in Interstice. If she didn't wake soon, Aamon wasn't sure she would have the strength to climb back into herself. Still, even like this, he found himself admiring her. Aamon lowered his head, drawn by a sudden, aching impulse, and almost pressed his lips to her forehead.
He stopped. Pulled back. He could not take advantage of her. Even if the intention was innocent, even if it was nothing more than comfort, Aamon's desire ran deeper now. He wanted more than he had any right to want. He rose from the bed and stared at her one final time, deep brown eyes heavy with a thought he refused to name. Then he left.
In the kitchen, Zeth, Levi, and Luke were already gathered.
Zoe wasn't there yet. Aamon suspected she'd left early to check on the foster home she ran, because Zoe did not know how to rest unless someone's life depended on it. And too many did.
Aamon crossed the kitchen, poured himself coffee, and announced, "I'm going to her work."
Zeth nodded immediately. Levi shrugged like it was irrelevant. Luke barely looked up, still smoothing an invisible wrinkle out of his sleeve.
"We should finish the remaining rooms," Aamon added, gaze flicking around the table. "We don't know who will show next."
Levi scoffed under his breath but didn't argue. Zeth mumbled an agreement around a mouthful of cereal. Luke lifted his chin. "Naturally."
Aamon ate quickly, more habit than hunger, and left them behind.
At the lab, Aamon burst into Dr. Foster's office like a tornado takes land.
Foster looked up, startled, then red-faced with anger the moment recognition hit. "Exactly where have you been? Where is Jade and that other dope that works with you? Do you know what time it is?"
His voice grew louder with each sentence, like volume could force authority into existence.
Aamon's patience snapped, his anger flared, the heat rising in his skin. His eyes darkened, then the ember-glow sparked behind the brown, a quiet warning that the fire was awake. He stepped closer. Foster's rant faltered.
Aamon grabbed him from the chair, hauling him up by the collar as if the man weighed nothing. Foster's skin blistered where Aamon's fingers touched, the flesh blackening and peeling in seconds. The smell of burned meat filled the room.
"That's none of your fucking business, mortal," Aamon said, voice low and vicious.
Foster choked, clutching at his own throat as Aamon dropped him to the floor. The man scrambled backward, eyes wide with terror now, his anger evaporated into survival.
"None of us will be returning," Aamon hissed. "You hear me?"
Foster wheezed out a broken yes. Aamon stared down at him one last time, thinking, not for the first time, that Jade deserved better than this place. Better than this man. Better than this entire miserable building full of locks and cages. He spun on his heel and left without another word.
In the hall, he paused just long enough to consider burning the facility down. It would be easy. It would be satisfying. It would be… too noticeable. Too close to the Soul Shift. He exhaled sharply and forced the rage back into its cage. If anyone was going to erase memories, Luke could do it neatly. Quietly. No smoke. No sirens. No attention.
For now, the lab would stand.
Aamon returned to the house and found it quiet.
He wondered how long the others would be away. He'd seen how much work it took just to prepare Luke's room, and he could only imagine what the other princes would require. Between four demons and Zoe's relentless efficiency, it should go quickly.
He sat at the table with coffee and tried to keep his mind from climbing the stairs again.
It failed. Minutes dragged. Then he heard noise outside. Voices. Footsteps. The creak of the front door. Luke's voice reached him first, loud and offended even from the yard.
"I deserve a replacement, I tell you! He has no idea the kind of devastation he causes in that form!"
Aamon huffed out a breath that almost resembled a laugh. They entered as a group, boxes in hand. Luke was mid-complaint, Levi looked irritated, and Zeth looked like he'd been the unwilling audience to a very long lecture. Luke froze at the bottom of the stairs when he saw Aamon sitting at the kitchen table. Aamon's eyes still held a faint ember-glow, not rage now, but lingering power. Luke stiffened anyway.
"Oh," Luke said, forcing a nervous laugh. "Aamon. I didn't think you'd be back so early."
Aamon's expression didn't change.
Levi set his boxes down and walked into the kitchen, cutting right through Luke's theatrics. "Did you get her time off?"
Zeth leaned around the doorway, curious.
Aamon shrugged. "Let's just say she'll never have to work again."
Zeth blinked. "You got her fired?"
"No," Aamon said flatly. "I told that shit bag we all quit."
Zeth's shoulders relaxed. Levi nodded, satisfied.
Aamon's gaze slid to Luke. "Looks like I made a mess you'll have to clean up."
Luke's expression brightened instantly. "An excuse to go into the lab? Excellent. I can expand my collection at the same time."
Zeth grimaced. Levi snorted.
Luke pointed at the remaining boxes like they offended him by existing. "You can handle the last of these, right? I've got work to do."
Luke paused at the threshold of the doorway, looking back at Aamon cooly. "Oh, and Aamon, my dear Sovereign. I would be ever so delighted if you could undo the mess you caused my beautiful museum. That car was one of a kind you know?"
Then he was gone, sweeping out with the excitement of someone about to commit crimes for aesthetic reasons.
Levi stared after him. "That fucking pretty boy."
Zeth tried not to smile.
Levi continued, voice rising into a full rant. "All day it's been one thing or another. He's moved the least amount of shit and complained the most. He's infuriating."
He turned to Aamon with genuine annoyance. "Are you sure about us all living under the same roof?"
Aamon shrugged.
Zeth patted Levi's shoulder. "It's the last of it. We're almost done. Cheer up."
Levi huffed and trudged upstairs. Zeth gave Aamon a look, then followed. Aamon remained in the kitchen alone, staring at the staircase like it was a question he couldn't answer.
By the time the sun sank fully below the horizon, the house gathered again around the dinner table.
Zoe returned and set food out with brisk efficiency, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly mussed from a day of being needed. Luke arrived later, glowing with pride and clutching scrolls and artifacts like stolen treasure.
He laid them out like offerings. "Look," Luke announced, delighted. "I salvaged several pieces before the mortals could ruin them. Truly, their incompetence is impressive."
Zoe rolled her eyes. Levi didn't respond. Zeth made a face. Aamon didn't even look. When Zoe finally sat down, the room fell into a quiet sadness. Everyone's eyes drifted toward the stairs.
Zeth sighed. "Watching the stairs isn't going to make her wake up any sooner."
They ate anyway. Slowly. Mechanically. Like food was an obligation rather than comfort.
Aamon leaned forward, breaking the silence. "Are all the rooms prepared?"
They answered with subdued nods.
Aamon's gaze fell to his plate, then lifted again. "We should start looking for signs of the others. We can't put the universe on hold while Jade sleeps."
Levi nodded. "It's likely she'll need a long rest."
Zeth forced a small smile. "We just keep going. She'll be awake before we know it."
The table went quiet again.
Luke rolled his eyes dramatically. "Don't be daft. I need her awake as soon as possible so I can show her what I've acquired."
Zoe snorted. "You mean brag."
Luke bristled. "I do not brag."
Zoe pointed her fork at him. "You absolutely brag."
Luke huffed and crossed his arms. "Jade enjoyed my research."
Zoe shook her head. "You're supposed to talk about things she wants to hear, not things that will make her want to stay asleep."
Luke lifted his chin. "I'll have you know Jade has spent hours studying my notes and admiring my artifacts. She appreciates quality."
Levi muttered, "Of course she does."
Zoe's expression softened as she glanced toward the stairs again. "I've heard mortals sometimes go into coma states," she said. "Their families read to them. Talk to them. Keep them tethered."
All eyes turned toward her.
Zoe shrugged. "It's common with head injuries. I don't have personal experience with it, but maybe if we take turns talking to her, it'll help her find her way back."
Luke scoffed. "What would you even talk to an unconscious human about? If there's no response, what's the point?"
The air barely had time to settle after his words before Aamon's fist crashed down on the top of Luke's head.
Luke yelped and clutched his scalp. "Ow!"
Aamon stood. "Idiot."
Luke blinked, shocked more by the tone than the blow.
Aamon's gaze swept the table, steel in his voice. "Each of you will find time to talk to her every day."
They nodded, one by one. Aamon didn't wait. He went upstairs.
He returned to Jade's bedside like gravity pulled him there. Jade lay as she had all day, still and pale. Her breathing was steady, but Aamon couldn't stop watching the rise of her chest, as if he feared it might stop if he stopped looking.
"Jade," he whispered. "Can you hear me?"
No response. He stared at her hand resting atop the blanket.
"I wish Zeth could still hear your thoughts," Aamon murmured, bitterness slipping into his voice. "At least then we could help you."
He hesitated. Then, without thinking, he took her hand and lifted it. He pressed his lips softly against the back of her hand and held them there longer than he meant to.
He didn't burn her. But something in him loosened, like the act itself was a promise he didn't yet know how to say aloud.
In the darkness inside her, Jade was running.
She couldn't remember when she'd started. She couldn't remember how long she'd been moving. The world around her never changed. No matter which direction she went there was only a narrow walkway and far ahead, a needle point of light.
She ran toward it until her lungs felt shredded and her legs turned to stone. Then she collapsed. Over and over. She had gotten up and ran again so many times she lost count. So many times now, that she lost hope. Lost her fight to get back up again.
Now she sat curled in the fetal position, throat raw from screaming, tears falling endlessly. She had screamed for Aamon. For anyone. Eventually, even Jade began to understand the horrible truth of the dark. She was alone.
Then warmth touched the back of her hand. Jade jerked, startled. It was the first sensation she'd felt in what felt like years. She stared at her hand as if it belonged to someone else. Confusion hit first, then pain, sharp and sudden, and she pressed her eyes shut. Her mind tried to remember and slipped like water through her fingers.
How did I get here? How do I leave? Where was I going?
The pain eased slowly. Jade took a shaky breath and tried again.
She was looking for someone. For Aamon.
But why? Who was Aamon? When had she lost him? And why did the thought of him feel like the only real thing left?
"Jade?" a voice floated through the dark, so quiet she almost missed it.
But it was familiar. And the warmth on her hand returned, faint but real. Her chest tightened. "Aamon," she whispered, though she didn't know if sound could even exist here.
She forced herself upright on trembling limbs and reached into the darkness with both hands, searching for the warmth like it was a rope thrown into deep water. She found it. A small patch of heat in the endless cold. That was enough. Jade stumbled forward, moving toward it, toward the tiny pin prick of light that suddenly didn't feel so impossibly far away.
Back in her room, Aamon held her hand and whispered, "I have something I must tell you. But you have to come back first, Magpie. Come back so I can tell you."
He raised her hand to his lips again, letting them rest there until he heard the doorknob turn. Aamon looked up. Zoe stepped inside.
In the darkness, Jade felt the warmth fade, and she broke down, sobbing, crawling toward where she'd felt him last, desperate not to lose it again. She couldn't hear words clearly yet, but she heard voices. Familiar. Near.
"Hey, you two," Zoe said softly as she entered. "Thought I'd come say goodnight before I leave. Mind if I interrupt?" She smiled at Aamon, then sat on the bed near Jade.
"Hey, Jade," Zoe said, voice cracking almost immediately. She tapped a fist lightly to Jade's shoulder. "How are you?"
Zoe swallowed hard. "You jerk. Hurry up and wake up or you'll miss me tearing up, you hear me?" Her laugh broke halfway through.
"It's been a whole day," Zoe continued, wiping at her face with the back of her wrist. "Aren't you hungry? I bet you are. You need to drink something, okay?" She reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and held it out.
Aamon shifted behind Jade, sliding an arm under her shoulders, lifting her carefully so she wasn't just a body on a bed but a person who could be helped.
Zoe froze for a second, eyes widening. "Oh sweet child," she whispered to Jade, voice trembling, "you really need to open your eyes to see this. Aamon being caring. You'll never believe it otherwise."
She tried to hold the cup to Jade's lips, but her hands shook too much. Water sloshed, refusing to meet Jade's mouth. Zoe turned away, angry at herself, embarrassed by her own tears. Aamon took the glass from her.
Zoe's voice broke. "Jade, you need to open your eyes, okay?"
Aamon looked down at Jade, then at the water.
"Forgive me," he whispered into her ear. Then he took a sip himself and pressed his lips to Jade's, letting the water flow gently into her mouth.
Zoe blinked, startled, then wiped her face hard. "Jade," she muttered through tears, trying to joke, "you're missing your first kiss. Idiot. Open your eyes."
She couldn't hold the joke. Not with her emotions spilling out like this.
Zoe stood abruptly. "I'll… I'll go. Goodnight." She left quietly, leaving Jade in Aamon's arms.
Aamon eased Jade back onto the pillows and stared at her face with a softness that didn't belong on a demon king.
"Would you let me hold you like this again?" he asked in a whisper. "Will you still hate me when you wake up?"
His voice shook, barely. "I'm sorry. I lost my temper, Magpie. I don't want to lose you."
He pressed his lips to her forehead and laid her back down gently.
"I have to go," he murmured. "But I'll be back soon. Good night, Jade."
He kissed the back of her hand again and tucked the covers around her like armor.
Then he left.
In the darkness, Jade surged forward, running again toward the warmth she now knew was real. Even when it faded, she chased the memory of it like a star.
One by one, familiar voices came and went. Levi's voice arrived with a wash of cold wind.
"Hey, Jade," Levi said, awkward and restrained, as if kindness physically pained him. "It's late. I don't really know what to say other than… goodnight."
A pause.
"You went through a lot," Levi admitted quietly. "I didn't think you'd survive. But you did."
His hand squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Wherever you are, don't forget. Don't stop. We'll meet again soon."
Another pause, rougher. "I can't save you from where you are now. You have to find your own way." Then his voice faded.
Zeth's voice came with a colder chill, like ocean air at night. Zoe's voice came with warmth and blunt affection.
And sometimes there was nothing for long stretches, only darkness and the needle point of light. Until finally the voices began to overlap. Louder. Closer.
For the first time, Jade caught a full sentence clearly. Luke, droning on with his notes, as if the universe itself needed a lecture.
Jade cried and laughed at the same time, because it was ridiculous, and familiar, and it meant she wasn't alone.
Then she heard everyone, loud and alive, the sound of movement, the clatter of dishes, the rise and fall of conversation.
Why were they all together? What was happening? Jade didn't know. But the needle point of light was closer now. Close enough to feel real. So she kept running. Arms outstretched, desperate to touch warmth again.
Desperate to come back.