The wind howled outside, battering the stone walls with an unforgiving force, but inside, the crackling hearth did little to ease the weight pressing down on the house. Shadows flickered along the walls, stretching like silent watchers as Gregory sat at the wooden table, his fingers wrapped around a cup gone cold. His mind was far from the fire's glow, lost in thoughts he couldn't shake.
Lily stood nearby, arms crossed, her eyes dark with exhaustion. Neither of them spoke at first. The silence between them was heavy, not uncomfortable, but full of things neither of them wanted to say aloud.
Theo had gone to bed early—perhaps too early. He had answered their questions, had listened when they told him not to dwell on what happened, but his voice had been too calm, too measured. A child should have been shaken, terrified. Instead, Theo had simply nodded and excused himself. Gregory knew that kind of silence—it wasn't acceptance. It was something deeper. Something broken.
Gregory inhaled sharply, the memory striking fresh. They had found Theo's body in the snow—lifeless, unmoving, his skin pale as death itself. Lily had screamed first, a raw, ragged sound that still rang in his ears. Gregory had barely heard it, his own mind going blank as he dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he touched his son's cold skin. For a single, agonizing moment, he had thought they had lost him forever.
Then Theo had gasped, breath rushing into his lungs as if the world itself had dragged him back. And yet, even as relief had flooded them, they had known—something had changed.
Lily broke the silence, her voice quieter than usual. "Varek's body is buried now."
Gregory glanced at her, noting the tightness in her shoulders. She wasn't just talking about the burial—she was trying to convince herself that it was over. That it was done.
"We took care of it after Goldman left," she continued. "The snow will cover him. No one will know. Not here, anyway."
Gregory didn't respond immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted toward the window, where the wind howled over the frost-covered land. Varek had failed Goldman's mission. That much was clear. But the real question was—what had he been transporting that made failure unacceptable?
"What do you think was in that crate?" Gregory finally asked.
Lily exhaled through her nose. "I don't know. But it wasn't just gold or supplies. Not if Goldman was willing to kill over it."
Gregory ran a hand over his beard, unease curling in his gut. They had seen Goldman's men transport many things over the years—wealth, weapons, even people. But never had he reacted like this. Never had he been that enraged.
Whatever was in that wooden box had been important. Important enough to send a killer after their son.
Gregory clenched his jaw. "Whatever it was, it was worth more to Goldman than a child's life."
Lily's face darkened, but she didn't disagree.
For a long time, they sat in silence, the fire's crackle the only sound between them.
Gregory was the first to break it. "Theo's been through too much. If he's different now… it's because of us."
Lily closed her eyes briefly. "He's not different, Gregory. He's hurt. That's not the same thing."
Gregory nodded slowly. "We should've protected him better." His voice was rough, guilt threading through every word. "We let this happen."
And that was the truth neither of them could ignore. Theo wasn't some unnatural force. He wasn't something to be feared. He was their son. And if something had changed within him, it wasn't because of magic or power. It was because he had suffered. Because they had failed him.
"We have to protect him," Lily said, her voice steadier now. "From Goldman. From whatever else comes next."
Gregory exhaled, rubbing his temple. "We talked to him about Varek. Told him not to dwell on it. But…" He hesitated. "I don't think he believed us."
Lily looked down. "He's pretending to be fine. He's trying to act normal for us."
Gregory hated that she was right. Theo hadn't just listened when they told him to move on—he had agreed too easily. Not because he was fine, but because he thought that's what they wanted to hear.
"We need help," Lily murmured.
Gregory didn't argue. He had known this moment was coming from the moment he saw the fire in Theo's hands. But saying it aloud… admitting it made everything real.
"You think Father Emmanuel can teach him?" Gregory finally asked. There was no doubt in his voice, only a grim acceptance.
Lily nodded. "I don't know if he can. But I know we can't leave Theo to figure this out alone."
Gregory let out a slow breath. It was the only option they had left.
"We'll take him to the priest. Tomorrow."
Lily's shoulders relaxed slightly, but she didn't look relieved. Because they both knew—this wasn't just about Theo's power.
Goldman wasn't the kind of man to forget. He wasn't the kind to forgive. And when he returned, he wouldn't just come for crates and shipments. He would come for them.
Gregory stood, his gaze shifting toward the hallway where Theo slept.
"We have to prepare," he murmured. "For whatever comes next."
Lily stepped beside him. "I'll protect him. Even if it costs me everything."
Gregory's jaw tightened. He knew she meant it. And so did he.
Because when the storm came—when Goldman came—there would be no second chances.
And this time, they would not fail their son.
As the fire flickered, casting its last light on the worn wooden beams, the wind outside continued to howl—a reminder that no matter how many shadows they buried, the darkness was always waiting at the edges of the light.
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