Marek’s POV
I sat on the edge of the small guest-room bed, Lior’s head heavy on my thigh, his little chest rising and falling in that slow, trusting rhythm only kids can manage as he slept.
The room smelled faintly of lavender soap and the cedar walls Esme loved.
Hours had passed since Cole had shoved me in here with a single clipped order: “Stay with the boy. Don’t move an inch. I don’t care who calls for you even if it's Nolan” His voice had been low, almost gentle, but the look in his eyes had made my knees weak.
Cole didn’t need to raise his voice to scare the s**t out of people; he just looked at you like he already knew exactly how many bones he could break before you begged.
So I stayed. I counted the cracks in the ceiling. I counted Lior’s breaths. I counted the minutes unti
