The sound of running water filled the room, a steady rhythm against stone. Steam rolled across the marble floor as Noel leaned forward, resting both hands against the wall of the shower.
He exhaled slowly, the heat tracing over the scars that lined his back—marks of monsters, battles, and mistakes. The mansion had been quiet these past days.
'Everyone's changed,' he thought, closing his eyes. 'Damon and Kael finally shut their mouths. Sylvette's… different. Even Father looks at me differently now.'
Water streamed down his face, mixing with the faint scent of soap and steel. But one name cut through his thoughts. Mirelle.
'She hasn't changed at all. Still cold. Still pretending I'm something she has to tolerate.' He frowned slightly, tilting his head back under the spray. 'But lately… she's worse. Nervous. Like she's hiding something.'
