Back at Sanctuary Heights—
The night had long fallen into silence.
Ever since Adelyn had gotten hurt, Eira had stayed unusually attentive around her. She refused to leave her side.
No matter how much Mabel coaxed her, she wouldn’t return to her own bedroom tonight.
Instead, she insisted on sleeping beside Adelyn, saying she had to look after Mama.
Adelyn, in the end, had asked Mabel to let her be.
It had taken nearly an hour before the little girl finally drifted off to sleep.
And even then ...
Only after checking several times that her mother had truly fallen asleep and that the bandaged hand no longer seemed to be troubling her.
As the tranquillity of the night deepened, the bedroom door was slowly pushed open.
Dylan stepped inside. His footsteps were so light that they barely made a sound against the marble floor.
Under the dim amber glow of the bedside lamp, his gaze first fell upon his little girl.
Eira was sleeping soundly, tucked securely beneath her blanket, one tiny hand still resting near Adelyn’s arm as though she had fallen asleep while guarding her.
Looking at her briefly, Dylan walked toward the other side of the bed, stopping only after coming to her side.
For years ...
He had buried every emotion beneath an expression of cold indifference.
His composure had become second nature.
Almost no one in the world could stir even the slightest ripple within him anymore —except her.
Every single time his eyes rested upon Adelyn, the frost surrounding him quietly melted into warmth.
Just as it did now.
He stood beside the bed for a long while, simply watching her sleeping face.
Peaceful.
And gentle.
Almost enough to make him forget everything that had happened before.
His gaze slowly drifted downward. Although the blanket covered her properly, one hand remained outside, exposed to the cool night air.
His brows knitted faintly.
Leaning over, he carefully lifted the edge of the blanket and tucked it over her hand with almost imperceptible gentleness.
Only then did he look back at her face.
They were suddenly much closer than before —close enough to hear the rhythm of her breathing.
... Close enough to see every delicate strand of hair resting against her cheek.
His eyes unconsciously lowered, stopping upon her lips.
Soft.
Rosy.
Inviting.
He gazed at her and realized once again that in this entire world, she was only temptation for him.
One he had fought against for years —yet failed each time.
He had spent countless years mastering restraint.
Yet somehow ...
Every ounce of that discipline crumbled whenever she was involved.
His heart quietly surrendered once again.
Unable to resist any longer, he slowly leaned closer. Just as only a few inches remained—
A faint whisper escaped her lips.
"No ..."
His movement froze instantly.
"My baby ..."
The tenderness in his eyes disappeared almost immediately. His brows drew together.
Opening his eyes completely, he looked at her.
She was still asleep.
Yet her expression had changed completely.
Her brows were tightly knitted, and her breathing had become uneven. Even in sleep, she looked trapped.
As though she were struggling desperately against something invisible.
"No ..."
Her voice trembled.
"Don’t ... that’s my baby. Don’t take my baby ..."
"He’s mine ..."
"Mine ..."
"Bring him back ..."
Fresh tears rolled silently from the corners of her tightly shut eyes. Her fingers clenched the bedsheet so tightly that her knuckles gradually turned white.
She pulled at it helplessly.
Pushed against it.
Fought against something only she could see.
Watching her struggle like that, Dylan’s expression immediately hardened. It was hard to tell what he had been thinking. But then ...
Almost instinctively, he reached out.
He wanted to wake her.
To comfort her.
To pull her away from the nightmare that was tormenting her.
But ...
His hand stopped halfway.
A forgotten memory suddenly flashed before his eyes.
"Dylan Warren ... don’t come any closer..."
"...or I’ll die right in front of your eyes."
His fingers stiffened.
His breathing faltered for the briefest moment.
That memory still haunted him.
Not because she had threatened him.
But because ...
She had truly carried out that threat.
Even now, the fear of reliving that moment remained buried deep inside him. Before he could force himself to move—
A tiny sleepy voice broke through his thoughts.
"Dada ..."
Little Eira had woken up. Still rubbing her sleepy eyes, she sat upright on the bed. At first, she didn’t understand what was happening.
But the moment her gaze landed on Adelyn—
She froze.
Tears silently streamed down her mother’s face. Her shoulders trembled ever so slightly.
Seeing that, the little girl’s own eyes immediately turned red.
"Dada ..." Her voice quivered. "Is Mama hurting? Why ... why is Mama crying?"
She was too young to understand what was happening.
But Dylan did.
Their past ...
He forced himself out of his thoughts.
Without wasting another second, he took out his phone and dialed Ford’s number.
The moment the call connected—
"Come upstairs."
That was all he said before ending the call.
Only moments later, hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. The bedroom door opened.
Ford stepped inside.
"Boss—"
"Check on her."
Dylan didn’t waste a single second.
Ford nodded immediately. Walking to the bedside, he carefully observed Adelyn. He didn’t even need to examine her closely.
One glance was enough.
His brows slowly furrowed. Then he turned toward Dylan. "It’s her subconscious."
"The past is surfacing."
Dylan’s gaze darkened. "Her past?" His voice turned dangerously low. "That shouldn’t be happening. She had forcefully forgotten it all."
Ford understood exactly what he meant.
"It shouldn’t," he admitted. "But forgotten doesn’t mean erased."
"The memories are still there. They’re simply buried beneath layers of consciousness. She might not remember it, but it’ll still be there with her forever."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"When something reaches deep enough, the subconscious responds before the mind ever can."
"It doesn’t ask permission, it simply remembers."
Dylan’s expression only grew colder.
Something unreadable flashed across his eyes.
Concern.
Fear.
And ...
Expectation.
Ford looked at Adelyn once more before quietly adding, "If I’m not mistaken, this isn’t being triggered by an ordinary memory."
He looked toward Dylan.
"Only a bond deeply engraved into a person’s soul can awaken this kind of subconscious reaction."
He paused. His voice became noticeably quieter.
"It feels as though someone connected to her is suffering. And somewhere beyond her forgotten memories ... a part of her is responding."