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“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re probably in the garden,” Marcello soothed, his deep voice a calm anchor as Azzurra gathered Delfina into her arms. Together, they headed toward the lounge.

“Benedetto, where’s Cesario?” Marcello asked.

“He must be in the library” Benedetto began, but his words faltered when the doors opened and an eleven-year-old Cesario appeared. He was carrying Rosaria, now six, in his arms. The little girl clung to him, her face pressed against his chest, sniffling softly.

Delfina’s eyes widened as she noticed the crimson streak running down Rosaria’s knee. “Mommy blood,” she gasped.

Marcello was at Rosaria’s side in an instant. He took her from Cesario’s arms and laid her gently across the sofa. Panic swept through the room as Elettra rushed forward, her face pale with worry. Benedetto, already pulling out his phone, called for the doctor.

Marcello turned to Cesario, his hand resting firmly on the boy’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Cesario’s young face was set with unusual seriousness. “Rosaria wandered into the woods alone. I was in the library when I felt something wrong. I followed her scent and found her being chased by two hyenas. They ran when they saw me, but she was already hurt… so I carried her back.” His voice trembled with concern, but his resolve was steady.

Alarico stormed into the room, his eyes finding his daughter. Dropping to his knees, he pulled Rosaria close. “It’s alright, little one,” he whispered, though his own voice was tight with fear. Rosaria’s ocean-blue eyes filled with tears, fat drops spilling down her cheeks.

Cesario pressed a hand against his chest, a dull ache rising there as if her pain resonated inside him.

Delfina waddled toward Cesario, clutching two of his fingers in her tiny hand. He crouched down to meet her gaze, gently brushing her tears away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry, kiddo. Rosaria will be fine by morning she’s strong.” He turned his eyes to Rosaria with a reassuring nod. Somehow, those words steadied her, and she wiped her tears with a trembling hand.

The doctor soon arrived, tending to Rosaria’s wounds and wrapping them in fresh bandages.

Once he was gone, Delfina padded over to Rosaria, her voice small and tearful. “Rosaria… d-don’t go like that again.”

Rosaria reached out and pinched her cousin’s soft, pink cheek, making the pale skin flush crimson. “That hurts,” Delfina pouted, rubbing at the spot.

“I can’t help it you’re too cute,” Rosaria teased, a grin spreading across her face. Her triumph was short-lived, however, as Cesario flicked her forehead with his finger.

“Ow! What was that for?” she complained, scowling up at him.

“For making everyone worry. Try running off again and see what happens,” he scolded, his tone sharp. Rosaria pulled a face and stuck out her tongue at him, which only earned an eye-roll in return.

Even in his irritation, Cesario looked breathtaking silver hair falling into his eyes, pale skin glowing faintly under the lights. Ethereal. Too beautiful for his own good.

Marcello’s voice broke the moment. “Cesario, tomorrow you’ll set a boundary wall around the garden. None of the children are leaving without permission again.”

Alarico moved to Elettra’s side, gently touching her shoulder. “Are you alright?” She was heavily pregnant, and her body ached from the stress. She nodded, lowering herself onto the couch.

“When are Leone and Agnese visiting again?” Azzurra asked Benedetto. Since marrying, Leone had taken Agnese back to his own land, though he made frequent visits.

“Next month,” Benedetto replied.

“They said that last month too,” Azzurra muttered, shaking her head. She knew why they had twin sons the same age as Rosaria, two little whirlwinds who kept them constantly on edge.

“And Mattia?” she asked in a lowered voice, careful not to let Rio overhear. Mattia visited once a year, but Cesario still refused to meet him. It broke her heart Mattia carried the weight of his regrets, but Cesario offered him no chance at reconciliation. Still, four years ago, Mattia had found his mate the daughter of a Blood Fang chieftain. Orsola, with her gentle soul, had softened him. Love had finally come to him, and he deserved that happiness.

“He’ll be here next week,” Benedetto said with a small smile. Delfina tugged at his sleeve, begging him for ice cream, and he chuckled in surrender.

“So, who wants to see Grandpa?” Azzurra asked.

Three small hands shot into the air.

Though Rosaria wasn’t Silvano’s granddaughter by blood, she called him “Grandpa” because Cesario and Delfina did.

The children were taken to King Silvano’s chamber, where the old king sat telling tales of history. Cesario listened with rapt attention, while Delfina had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and Rosaria though seated beside Cesario was slumped against him, snoring softly. Cesario adjusted himself so her head could rest comfortably on his shoulder, his silver hair shimmering faintly in the firelight.

Silvano summoned Alarico, who gently scooped his daughter into his arms. Azzurra gathered Delfina, and together they stepped out of the room. Cesario followed, still alert despite the late hour.

“Uncle Marcello,” he piped up, excitement lighting his face. “You promised to start teaching me horse riding tomorrow.”

“Of course, Rio. But only if you’re awake by five,” Marcello teased, raising a brow.

Cesario grinned, mischief dancing in his silver eyes. “Don’t underestimate me.”

With a quick kiss to Azzurra’s cheek and Delfina’s forehead, he dashed off toward his room.

Later, Azzurra and Marcello tucked Delfina into her bed. Marcello pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before stepping back.

“You turn into melted jelly when it comes to your daughter,” Azzurra whispered with a teasing smile.

“She’s my sweet little bean. And you,” he murmured, pulling Azzurra close, “are the queen of my heart.” His lips brushed hers in a kiss that stole her breath.

“You’re too sweet, my beast,” she whispered back, her nose brushing his.

“Only for my tigress,” he grinned, boyish and unguarded, making her cheeks flush.

“You’re my first and only love,” she said softly, looping her arms around his neck.

“And you are my first mate, my wife, my everything,” he growled low against her lips, kissing her again only to freeze when Delfina stirred in her sleep.

They held their breath until the little girl’s snores returned. Meeting each other’s gaze, they burst into quiet laughter.

THE END