LayahKai’s house smells like ash and cedar. It’s warm, not just temperature-wise, but lived-in, safe, like a place where stories were whispered late into the night and hands were held through hard times. You wouldn’t expect that from a hellhound den. You’d expect cold stone walls, dark halls lit by molten flame, maybe the occasional tortured soul in a cage. But this? This is a home. The stairs creak softly as Dylan carries me up like it’s his damn purpose in life. I’d protest again, maybe even throw in a token struggle for pride’s sake, but my bones are syrup, my skin still sings with the pain Nick didn’t quite finish healing, and honestly? I’m too damn tired to be fierce right now. At the top of the stairs, Kai moves ahead of us, brushing past like a shadow with purpose. He opens a door at the end of the hall and steps aside, letting us in first. The room is spacious but simple, clean lines, muted earth tones, dark wood furniture polished smooth by time. One wall is packed with shel
Last Updated : 2025-07-13
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