The door opened with a quiet creak, and the scent of crayons and vanilla hit Ren instantly.
The room was bright, filled with toys and picture books that looked far too cheerful for a house surrounded by armed guards.
In the center of the room, a young boy sat on a plush rug, meticulously building a tower of blocks. He had the same thick, dark hair as Ren's older brother—the brother Cilian had murdered.
"Toby?" Ren's voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a grief he had to keep buried deep.
The boy's head snapped up. His face lit up with a pure, dazzling joy that made Ren's heart shatter. Toby scrambled to his feet, his small sneakers thudding against the carpet as he ran.
"Uncle Ren!"
Ren dropped to his knees just in time to catch the small force of nature. Toby collided with him, wrapping his thin arms around Ren's neck and squeezing with everything he had.
