— Sophia’s POVI watched Irene’s chest rise and fall. Not once, and not twice. There was a uncontrolled, scraping sound that was more like the atmosphere dragging air through him than his lungs working.My breathe seized, not because I forgot how to breathe, but because I didn’t want to steal a single ounce of oxygen away from him. My body got locked around his, my hands gripping him so tight that I thought I’d crush him, but if I loosened even a little, what if he slipped?Ethan was still slumped beside us, blood stain streaked across his jaw, soaking through the torn fabric at his shoulder. His eyes were wide, empty, too wide. Like he was watching something the rest of us couldn’t see anymore.“Ethan,” I whispered, half-pleading, half-warning.He didn’t answer. He just stared at our boy. His lips trembled, parted, closed again. I could hear the teeth grinding, clicking. His whole body was shaking, but it wasn’t from the wound. No, this was something deeper.Something gnawing at
— Sophia’s POVI didn’t breathe.I found it very difficult too, I couldn’t.Because if I let my lungs move then maybe his wouldn’t. And I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t risk proving he was really still.But still still.Ethan kept shaking him. Back and forth. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that Irene’s head lolled like a doll’s. His limp arms swung useless.“Wake up. Come on. Come back. You don’t do this to me, son, you don’t, ”I heard bones grinding in Ethan’s voice. Teeth cracking. He wasn’t begging anymore. He was commanding.But Irene didn’t listen.I leaned forward, my lips pressed to his temple. His skin, cold. Already. Too soon. “Please. Just one breath, baby, please, I don’t care if it’s shallow, I don’t care if it’s broken, just let me feel it, ”Nothing.And then the stone answered for him.The light surged, flooding the clearing so bright my eyes seared. The shadows peeled back but not away. They lingered just beyond, waiting, patient.It wanted us to look.
— Sophia’s POVThe sound wouldn’t leave me.That hum. Or maybe it wasn’t even there anymore. Maybe it was just stuck in my head, lodged so deep I’d never claw it out. Like a splinter under the skin that no amount of tearing could free.I held Irene’s hand too tight. His fingers limp, sticky with Ethan’s blood. I pressed them against my chest like I could warm them back to life, even though I knew, God, I knew, warmth doesn’t always come back once it’s gone.Ethan was still on his feet. Barely. His shoulders shook. His shirt clung wet and black to his ribs. He kept swaying forward like he meant to charge the stone itself, then rocking back like he’d collapse instead.He wouldn’t look at me. Not really. His eyes were glued to that crack in the slab. Wide, glazed, wild. Like if he stared long enough he could will it shut.“Ethan,” I whispered, my throat scraped raw. “You need to sit. You’re bleeding too much.”He barked something that was almost a laugh, but broken. “And what, let it
— Sophia’s POV The clearing was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not even safe quiet. It was the kind of silence that makes you afraid to breathe. Like if I exhaled too loud, the whole forest would turn and look.Ethan still had him. Our boy. Pressed to his chest like he could fuse them together if he just held hard enough. His knuckles white, his arms trembling, his blood dripping onto Irene’s shirt.And Irene, God. He wasn’t moving.His head lolled against Ethan’s collarbone, hair stuck damp to his forehead, lips pale. That small, soft hand that had pressed against my cheek minutes ago… now hung loose, dangling, swinging with Ethan’s shudders. I couldn’t take it. I dropped forward on my knees, clawing at Ethan’s arms, trying to pull Irene back to me. My nails caught on his shirt, tore the fabric. “Give him, give him to me,”Ethan shook his head so violently his jaw cracked. His face was a mask of blood and dirt and rage. His eyes wild. “No! Don’t, don’t take him from me!”
— Sophia’s POVThe glow didn’t fade.That’s the first thing I noticed, how it clung to us like sickness. Ethan clutching Irene, both of them breathing too hard, the grass burning blue beneath their feet.I crawled closer on my knees, nails full of dirt, throat raw. I reached for my boy but froze when I saw his face.His eyes.Wide open. Staring up at nothing. The lashes wet with tears that weren’t falling anymore. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no sound came.And Ethan… Ethan held him like he was already gone. His arms wrapped too tight, shaking, his mouth pressed into Irene’s hair, whispering nonsense, broken little prayers that didn’t sound like Ethan at all.“Stay, stay, stay, please don’t leave me, don’t you dare, not now, not you.”The clearing listened. That’s what it felt like. Every shadow leaned, every head tilted, the slab humming deeper, almost… satisfied.And then, Irene blinked.So slow. Like waking from somewhere else. His chest hitched against
— Sophia’s POVEthan’s words kept ringing in my ears, Irene, you’re my son, when the air shifted.It wasn't wind, it wasn't even breath.It was like the whole clearing inhaled.The shadows leaned, every single one, like trees bending in a storm you couldn’t see. Their heads, or whatever counted as heads, tilted toward Irene.And he…My boy arched against me, his spine rigid, and he gritted his teeth. His small fingers dug into my arms so deep I felt skin break. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was anchoring.Holding onto me like he was the last one drowning.But at the same time, his chest pushed forward, like strings were pulling him to the slab.Both. At once.I didn’t know how to hold that. I didn’t know how to fight something invisible, something inside him.My throat locked. I wanted to scream. I couldn’t.Ethan staggered, every breath a rattle. His shirt soaked crimson, sticking to his skin. He should’ve been down. Should’ve been gone already. But he wasn’t. He stood. Somehow