The room was cloaked in a thin, gray light when morning finally came—not that the city of demons ever allowed the sun to pierce through its skies. Here, light felt like a sickly imitation, filtered through the towers’ humming aura, as though the very air rejected warmth.
Eric was the first awake, his eyes burning from too little rest. He hadn’t slept much—too busy keeping one eye on Aiden, who, against all odds, had slept through the night. The boy’s face was still pale, lips drawn, his dreams unreadable. For a moment, Eric almost wished to wake him, just to make sure he hadn’t vanished into that dark place altogether.
Lydia stirred next. Her hair fell loosely across her face, her expression tired, but her eyes sharpened as soon as she saw Eric still watching over their youngest. She did
