Morning light poured through the tall windows of Blackthorn House, no longer dim and lifeless as it once had been. Sunbeams warmed the marble floors, glimmering over fresh flowers and newly restored tapestries. Laughter echoed faintly through the halls — a sound that had been absent for decades.
The fortress that once brooded in silence now pulsed with life.
Three months had passed since that morning in Madam Helen's home — three months of soft days, tender moments, and chaos no one quite knew how to manage.
Especially with Lucarion involved.
"Don't you dare move that vase, Kael!" Lucarion barked, sweeping through the drawing room in a flurry of robes and silver hair.
Kael, standing beside the fireplace, arched a brow. "It's my house."
Lucarion pointed dramatically at him. "Not anymore. This is the baby's house now."
From the sofa, Penelope burst into laughter. "He's serious."
