Warmth.
It was the first thing Daemon felt.
Soft. Calm. Like resting on a pillow after a lifetime of war. His body, for once, didn't feel like it was on the brink of collapse.
It's been a long time… since I slept like this.
Then, the dream came.
He was twenty-six again, still a knight of Veryndor. Not yet a fugitive. Not yet a monster. His hair fell over tired eyes, dark circles beneath them, his crimson gaze dulled with guilt and exhaustion. He looked broken. Not angry—just empty.
Behind him, a shadow loomed.
A figure stepped forward.
Himself.
No—not him.
Golden hair. A pristine smile. Eyes like blades.
Gabriel.
His twin. The Hero. The betrayer.
He raised an axe in silence.
Daemon's eyes widened just before it came down.
SHINK.
Daemon gasped and snapped awake.
The moonlight danced on waves, The ocean breeze hit his face. He was lying on something soft warm, steady, breathing.
He blinked, turned his head slightly—
His cheek was resting on Nyxtriel's lap.
