Rhys finally returned from the phone call, his face pale with concern. He saw Kaelen sitting protectively on the edge of the bed and Elias sitting quietly on the rug, leaning against the wall, a damp cloth still draped over his knee. The sight was a picture of domestic intimacy that twisted the knife of Rhys's jealousy.
"Dr. Henderson is coming by in the morning," Rhys reported, his voice tight. He looked at Elias, the protective Alpha overriding his professionalism. "Thank you for the assistance, Thorne. You can go now."
Elias didn't move. He looked up at Rhys, his eyes serious. "I'm not leaving until the crisis is completely over. I'm his father, Rhys. You may be his primary caregiver, but my genetic responsibility doesn't end when the fever breaks."
Kaelen intervened before the two men could clash again. "Rhys, please. Seth is asleep. Let's not wake him. Go and rest. You've been on the phone for an hour."
It was an order, not a suggestion, and Rhys, recognizing the need for peace, finally nodded, though his gaze lingered on Elias with a dark promise. "I'll be in my room. Call me if anything changes."
He left, the closing of the door a heavy weight.
Silence descended, heavier now than the fever itself. Kaelen watched Seth, her body tense. Elias remained on the floor. The shared space felt smaller, saturated with the exhaustion and the unspoken truth of the moment. They were parents, side-by-side, united by the tiny, sleeping child between them.
Elias broke the quiet first, his voice low and devoid of aggression.
"You should have told me," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the silver streak in Seth's hair. "Five years, Kaelen. I deserved to know. I deserved to show up."
Kaelen didn't flinch. "You told me exactly who you were when you ended things, Elias. You chose the Thorne legacy over me. You chose business over life. I made the choice to protect them from the fallout of your ambition."
"I was a fool," Elias admitted, the weight of the confession surprising Kaelen. "I let my father scare me into thinking my reputation, my control, was more important than happiness. I thought I could come back for you when the deal was sealed. I was wrong."
He looked up at her then, his eyes pleading, raw. "I came back, Kaelen. Look at the banner. Look at the roses. I was ready to throw my reputation away the minute you landed. I just didn't expect to find... this."
Kaelen felt a familiar, treacherous warmth flicker in her chest, a painful memory of the boy she had loved—the boy who could admit his mistakes and whose ambition had been captivating, not toxic. She bit back the immediate forgiveness she knew he was fishing for.
"Don't confuse remorse with love, Elias," she said softly, reaching out to adjust the damp cloth on Seth's forehead. "The past is dead. The question is: why are you really here now?"
Elias pushed himself up from the floor, moving slowly until he was standing over the bed. He didn't touch her, but his proximity was a powerful magnet.
"I'm here because I looked into the eyes of my son and realized what I missed. Every day you kept them away was a day I can never get back. I'm not just fighting for a second chance with you, Kaelen. I'm fighting to stop being the villain in my own children's story."
He shifted, his gaze finding the corner of the room where a framed photograph sat on the dresser. It was a candid shot: Kaelen, beaming, her hand resting on Rhys's arm, the two twins laughing in the foreground. It was a perfect portrait of a family.
"I see the life you built," Elias continued, his voice rough with pain. "It's beautiful. It's whole. And it's based on a lie I forced you to tell. But I also know that whenever one of them is truly in danger—whenever the crisis breaks the mask—you look to me for strength."
He was referencing the moment in the airport, and more powerfully, the moment minutes ago in the bedroom. He had seen past her contempt to her core vulnerability.
Kaelen felt her defenses crumble. He was right. She had trusted his competence over Rhys's immediate, frantic worry.
Elias leaned in, his scent—a subtle, intoxicating musk she hadn't smelled in years—washing over her. His hand reached out, not for her, but for the sleeping Seth. He carefully tucked the blanket around the boy, a final, tender act of parental care.
"I won't ask you to leave Rhys," Elias whispered, his voice dark and potent with controlled emotion. "But I will demand you stop lying to yourself. The past may be broken, Kaelen, but the future is still unwritten. And it contains three people here who have my blood."
He walked toward the door without another word. He was leaving on his own terms this time, having dealt a devastating psychological blow to her fortress.
Kaelen sat rigid on the bed, watching the door close. He hadn't touched her, hadn't threatened her, but she felt more exposed and defenseless than at any moment since their reunion. She looked down at Seth and saw only Elias's eyes looking back. The silence in the room screamed the one truth she couldn't deny: she was safe with Rhys, but only Elias Thorne truly knew her capacity for ruin—and for love.