(HAELORIAN'S POV)
The world outside had faded into a distant hum, muffled and indistinct, like sound heard through layers of cotton. I had created the silence spell hours ago, weaving it carefully around the bedroom Henry and I shared, sealing us off from the chaos of the house. The constant comings and goings, the raised voices, the frantic energy of a household on edge—all of it had been reduced to nothing more than a whisper, a ghost of noise that couldn't penetrate the barrier I had erected.
Inside our sanctuary, the only sounds were the soft crackle of the fireplace, the gentle rhythm of Henry's breathing, and the occasional coo from baby Violet, who was nestled safely in a crib in the corner of the room, his tiny fingers wrapped around the edge of his blanket. Beside him, little Beau slept peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in steady, innocent rhythm. The children were safe. The children were calm. And that was exactly how I intended to keep them.
