Royal Alpha Roar.
I watch him in the cradle. It has been three hours since the scare. Since I felt my son’s heart subsidize into nothing. I am his father and I have never been so helpless in my entire life.
Now, the pale shade of his skin has returned to normal. The rashes have faded into dull remnants of red, and though he still looks fragile, he is here. Alive. Breathing. That should be enough to calm me, but it isn’t. Someone put that deadly thing here.
I don’t take my eyes off Kylan. I sit in this chair, spine rigid and yet, even as I watch him, I know I am watching her, too.
Serayah hasn’t moved.
She stands over him like a sentry—out of utter devotion. She has not left. I have not left.
She saved his life.
If she had not been here, Kylan would not have made it to the hospital.
