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The estate had grown quieter, but not simpler. Over the next few days, the air was thick with emotions unspoken, glances exchanged, and hearts learning to adjust. For Damon, it was a delicate balance between duty, love, and guilt.

The days began early—nights even earlier. Two cries, from two different wings of the estate, often tore him in two. Sometimes, he’d go to Valko. Other times, to Aviana. And on many nights, both.

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Damon sat beneath the old cedar tree with Lily, Valko bundled in her arms. The child had just fallen asleep, and she refused to let anyone else hold him that day. Talia, who had come...