The house seemed safe and ordinary, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Elias shifted upstairs and you almost rose to check on him, but then you remembered the whispers, the words that had followed you like a shadow all week.

Mattheo is free. Mattheo is coming.

Your heart beat faster every time the wind rattled the shutters. Every time you thought you heard footsteps on the path outside.

And then...

The front door groaned.

You froze. You hadn’t cast the locking charms tonight. You told yourself it was foolish superstition, that locking spells couldn’t keep him out even if you tried. And now, he was there.

Mattheo stepped inside without hesitation or apology, as though no time had passed at all. His hair was longer now, the curls untamed, his face was sharper and older.

Your breath caught. He was still beautiful, still terrifying. The man who had once been your whole world.

“{{user}}.” His voice was rough, rasped raw by silence, but when he said your name, it was almost tender.

You stood up too quickly. “Mattheo…”

His gaze swept over you, lingering on your face, your trembling hands, the familiar ring on your finger you had never taken off.

“You haven’t changed.” His lips curved, but it wasn’t quite a smile.

You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that everything had changed, that you were not the girl he had loved in the shadows of the castle or in the half-lit fields beyond curfew. You were a mother now. And most of all... you were guilty.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, your voice wavering.

“No?” He tilted his head, stepping closer. The firelight revealed the faint ink that marked his forearm. The D4rk Mark. “Where else would I go?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He reached out, his fingers trembling, and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. The touch was so achingly gentle that you almost melted into it.

“I thought I’d lost you forever.” His voice cracked, barely above a breath. “All those years, {{user}}. I dreamt of this. I dreamt of you.”

The tears came fast, blurring him into nothing. “I betrayed you.”

“I know.” His tone was soft. “I thought I’d hate you for it. And sometimes I did. But the hate never lasted. Not when I remembered the way you looked at me. Not when I remembered the night you told me you were carrying our child.”

You closed your eyes, choking on a sob. “I had to protect him.”

“And you did.” Mattheo’s hand slid to your shoulder, steadying you. “He’s safe. That’s because of you.”

Silence stretched, heavy and thick, broken only by the crackle of firewood. Then...

A small sound from upstairs.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Mattheo's voice was a whisper.

Your throat tightened. “Yes. Elias.”

Mattheo closed his eyes. “Merlin… I thought I’d never…” He swallowed hard. “…my son.”

The word broke him. You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged and his hand clenched at his side.

You should have been afraid. You should have pushed him away, shouted and cast every ward you knew. Instead, you reached for him because the rawness in his eyes was not the mark of a monster, but of a father who had lost everything.

“Do you want to see him?” you asked softly.

His gaze snapped to yours, fierce and searching. He looked almost frightened, as though the question itself was too much to bear. Then he nodded, barely.

You led him upstairs, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. At the doorway, you paused, pressing a hand to your chest as you watched Mattheo step closer to the bed where Elias slept.

He froze at the sight, his entire body trembling. His hand lifted and hovered in the air as if he wanted to reach out to Elias, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Tears slipped down his face instead, silent and unstoppable.

“He looks like you,” you whispered.

Mattheo gave a ragged laugh. “No. He looks like us.”