Cyrus wakes up choking on his next breath. Coughing harshly and with a headache so bad it rendered him unable to think for a few seconds. Flashes of memories of the approximate five years play in his head in quick but detailed flashes, showing the good and the painful experiences. At the end, it leaves him heading with a dull ache behind his eyes hard enough to disorient him.
When the pain dulls, leaving him gasping for air, Cyrus feels the intense need to see his son.To see him breathing, moving, speaking, anything even though he is distantly aware he saw him just a few hours ago. He hurriedly stumbled out of bed, barely pulling a robe over his exposed top halve and bolting to the room next to him.Cyrus mind is frantically playing out his last memories in a gut reaching loop.
The blood, the pain, Leo's face; coated in dark blood. His death.
He is mildly aware that he probably resembles a feral werewolf with his medium black hair resembling a lion's mane as it does every morning, his sharp gray eyes reddened at the corners, his usual cold and sharp features twisted in a mix of anger and frustration.
Cyrus focuses, admittedly his son's room is not far at all, just a few paces down the hallway from his room, but it takes him time to realize who he's staring at is his son and not some random baby in a crib.
As light as a feather, Cyrus traces one apple cheek with a very sharp claw (his intuition must really be in overdrive for his werewolf features to show this far). Last time Cyrus saw Leo, he was feeding him a few hours ago, and at the same time, he witnessed his five year old boy scream his name hoarse.
Now, that same boy who watched his father die in his small arms is barely a year old. Only able to toddle and scream a few repeated words with loud enthusiasm.
Cyrus carefully cradles the sleeping babe onto his arms and to his chest. Morning rays bately peeking in through the white curtains, it's so early in the morning that the halls outside the room are deadly quiet. Cyrus surprisingly appreciates the silence in the morning compared to the loud mornings of his old home.
Cyrus never expected to come back after five years. Unfortunately, whatever, or whoever, sent him to the past didn't send him before he married into the Strauss family. As much as he personally would've avoided the marriage, logically he knew that not marrying into the Strauss would've brought his own family to ruin by the Kranz, wiping his entire clan from the map with barely any backlash from other well known werewolf families. After all, the Kranz have been quite lustful for power for the past decade, coveting it almost zealously, moreso with their recent ties to royalty.
But that those were the least of his worries. It would come to no surprise to anyone at how badly the marriage was when he married Strauss. The Strauss barely tolerated his presence, much less acknowledged his existence. Except for maybe the first son of the family.
He wonders, as he sits in a chair, cradling Leo closer to his chest for comfort, time and time again, why the Kranz push for a marriage of alliance between two completely different races. That of which had a long history of distrust towards each other at best and murdering on sight at worst.
It baffled Cyrus then, and it still does now.
On the other hand, his death in the future held a lot of questions now that he has a second chance. Assassination attempts were, dare he say, not unusual in the higher class. Therefore, mass disaproval towards Cyrus was not unexpected. The Strauss were a well established aristocratic family with deep roots and are very sought-after. Cyrus was a parvenu in the eyes of other aristocratic vampire families. To other vampire families, he was basically the equivalent of a poor farmer unjustifiably given a chest full of gold.
Leo shuffles on his arms, rubbing his face on his robe, moving deeper into his embrace in an adorable manner that makes Cyrus' face immediately soften. How unfortunate that his precious boy is a Strauss and not a Wilstone. A bittersweet smile grew on his face.
Cyrus can faintly hear the house slowly coming to life. Maids and servants are getting themselves ready for the day. And the kitchens preparign for the mornign meal. Cyrus has no intention or willingness to move anytime soon. Leo would never leave his sight ever again.
Maybe he should move the crib to his room. As a matter of fact, he should just move everything to his room. He has enough space. But unfortunately, such a decision required notifying a certain someone. Someone he had never visited willingly, and has similiarly never visited him in turn.
Guess it's time to pay his dear husband a visit.