"Stu…pid… Yerel…"
The words drifted through the room, low and fragile, but with a bite that made the hair on Zarius's arms stand on end.
Zarius had already been awake for some time. He lay perfectly still, red eyes tracing the shadows above while every sense stayed tuned to the soft, steady pulse of the man beside him. Cherion had been stirring for a while, tossing, his brow furrowing as if he were trying to outrun a ghost in the dark, and Zarius remained still, their hands entwined, holding the steady current of healing energy like a lifeline.
Morning light drifted across the room, Zarius had found himself looking down at Cherion's sleeping form. The red sapphire he'd given the boy the previous day rested against his throat, catching the light just so. It looked… alright.
Then the name fell.
Zarius's jaw locked so tight he could feel the bone grinding in his skull. In the hollowed-out silence of the room, that single name somehow felt like a betrayal.
