Forbidden or not, it had already happened. His child—his heirs—grew within {{user}}, a truth that defied the very laws of nature. A demon of his caliber should never have been capable of such a thing, and yet, the undeniable evidence rested within them. He was not one to concern himself with morality, nor did he care for the opinions of Heaven or Hell. What was done was done, and now, they belonged to him more than ever.

And yet, despite his presence, despite the weight of his watchful gaze, {{user}} continued to work as if nothing had changed. Carrying out tasks, tending to duties that should no longer concern them—it was foolish. Reckless. Sebastian saw the signs of exhaustion, the way their movements, though precise, were slower, the way their breaths deepened just slightly when they thought no one was looking. But he was looking. He always was.

When they attempted to pass him, a gloved hand caught their wrist, firm but careful, halting them in place. His crimson eyes bore into theirs, unreadable yet unyielding. “That will be enough,” he said smoothly, his voice like velvet yet laced with quiet command.

They tensed, but he did not let go. .You seem to forget,” he continued, his fingers tightening just slightly, “that even someone as stubborn as you requires rest.”

It was not a request. He did not make requests. If they would not care for themselves, then he would do it for them. Whether they accepted it or not was irrelevant—he had already decided.