Allen kept his arm around Seraphina.Seraphina was still tucked against him beneath the blanket, her breathing warm against his chest. The last tension had finally left her body. Her hand rested loose over his ribs, fingers curled as sleep pulled at her.Then Violet spoke again.[Violet: Primordial Demonic Bloodline — Integration Available.]Allen's eyes sharpened.For a moment he simply watched the words hang in front of him. Violet had offered him Skills before, money before, even ways to cross distance that should have been impossible. This was a Bloodline.Seraphina shifted faintly against his chest. Allen's attention dropped to her immediately. The movement stopped there. She was already sinking toward sleep again.He kept his arm around her waist and lowered his voice until it was barely above a murmur. "If I take it now, what happens to my body?"[Violet: Compatibility confirmed. Integration will impose s

Dawn light had barely cleared the roofs when Allen stepped through the back door. He stopped at the threshold instead of walking into the yard. The dark markings were still there. They crossed his hands and disappeared beneath the sleeves he'd pushed to his forearms. When he caught his reflection in the kitchen window a moment earlier, his eyes had still been crimson too. Whatever the Primordial Demonic Bloodline had done last night, sleep hadn't politely put it away for him. Fine. He'd work with what he had. Allen looked across the yard first. Packed dirt still dark with dawn damp. The well in the corner. The tree near the back wall, its leaves barely stirring. Nothing moving behind it. He checked the rear approach, then the side line where someone could come into view without crossing the front of the house. Empty. For now. No footsteps crossed the rear line, and no voice carried from the side approach. If someone entered

Allen carried Silverhowl into the kitchen and stopped beside the stone counter.The sword stayed in its sheath.That was the point.He laid it flat on the dry end of the counter, well away from the hearth and the space he used for food. His right forearm gave another faint tremor as his hand came away from the leather.Seraphina saw it.He should've expected that.Seraphina waited in the wheelchair near the back door, its brakes locked, pale-blue dress falling over her knees and blue shawl around her shoulders. Her gaze checked his marked hand, Silverhowl, and finally his arm.Allen looked down at himself. Dark lines across his hands. Sleeves shoved to his forearms. Crimson eyes, if the reflection in the window was still telling the truth.'Breakfast first.'He washed the soot and yard dirt from his hands with the kitchen water, dried them, then crossed to the hearth.The fire there was ordinar