Ina’s boot stamped on the floor. Archie tensed, but she held her tongue. The restraint cut deeper than any ‘I told you so’ ever could.
Archie didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on Malachi instead.
“But that only works for so long.” He rubbed a hand over his face. The exhaustion underneath was bone-deep now, heavier than fear. “And tonight proved that.” He drew in a breath, steadying the tremor in his voice. “I can’t protect you from the Otherworld by pretending that it doesn’t exist.”
Malachi nodded once. His attention had already drifted back to the room. He reached out, fingertips brushing the edge of a map pinned to the wall like he wasn’t convinced it was real.
“Has this always been here?” The accusation bit. His eyes flicked from wall to wall, as though trying to make sense of it all.
“It was built at the same time as the house,” Ina shifted her weight on the cot and propped a pillow behind her back. Casual in pose only. “It’s part of the foundations.”
Archie leaned against the staircase, arms folded tight across his chest. He braced for a barrage of questions and accusations, but Malachi didn’t rush them. Instead, he wandered. The silence was deafening, but Archie bit his lip and gave him space and time.
Malachi inspected the desk first—the equipment put his own setup upstairs to shame. Archie followed his gaze to the bookshelves, the spines cracked and worn, then to the metal storage lockers bolted onto the wall.
Malachi opened his mouth. Archie leaned forward, waiting for him to speak, but he closed it again.
Archie stayed where he was, pulse ticking loud in his ears. Every instinct screamed at him to explain. To soften the edges before Malachi cut himself on the truth. He swallowed, forcing himself to stay silent.
From the corner of his eye, Ina shifted again—tension rolling off her in tight, controlled waves. She was holding back as well.
Malachi drifted to the base of the stairs and reached for the metal gate. He swung it open and shut. Then let it fall closed. The lock snapped into place, sealing off the only exit.
He stared at it. “Is this for protection?”
“Yes,” Archie pushed off the stairs and stepped forward, movements automatic as he showed Malachi the release. His fingers hesitated for half a second on the mechanism before pressing it. Protection wasn’t always about what tried to get in. Sometimes it was about keeping things contained.
Not every Wolfenden had been good. Not every generation had chosen restraint. Their family history was riddled with shifters who mistook power for purpose—who crossed lines and called it duty. They’d learned painfully that monsters were part of their own history.
“What do we need protection from?” Malachi's eyes widened. “Selkie?”
Archie’s chest tightened. There was so much he’d sworn to keep from Malachi, because once it surfaced, it could never be undone. The Selkie were only the beginning.
“The Selkie are water creatures.” Ina stretched her legs, her voice light but strained, betraying her calm. “I doubt they’d venture this far.”
“They ventured into the backyard,” Malachi shot back,calm but sharp. He turned to Archie, nostrils flaring. “What is this place really?”
Archie didn’t answer fast enough.
Malachi stepped closer. “I want the full version. Not the child-friendlyI must protect my son at all costsversion. No more vague hints. Either you tell me everything, or you tell me nothing. I’m done being an outsider in my own family.”
The floor moved. Archie steadied himself against the gate. Images slammed into him without mercy: Malachi at eleven, silent and watchful; Malachi at fourteen, flinching every time Archie shut down; Malachi tonight, nearly taken because he hadn’t known what he was facing. All those years, Archie had called distance protection. Tonight it proved what it really was.
“Son—” He stopped, swallowing hard. Heather’s promise pressed in from one side. Malachi’s fury from the other. There was no room left to stand without choosing.
“No,” Malachi cut him off. “If you don’t want me to be a part of whatever’s going on, that’s fine. But I’m done.” He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once and then back again. Restless energy needing somewhere to go. “I’m done. Done with this house, this family, and everything that goes with it.”
Archie’s stomach dropped. His hand tightened on the gate until the metal cut into his palm, and he welcomed the sting.
“I’ll go travelling with Jeff, and I won’t look back.” The words spilled from him, momentum taking over. “I won’t look back. I’m surprised his mum hasn’t already told you our plans.” His face twisted. “Or maybe she did, and you just didn’t care enough to mention it.” The old Malachi was talking. A flare-up meant to hurt before hecould be hurt.
Ina shifted sharply on the cot. “Is that what you think?” Her fingers worried the edge of the blanket, then stilled. When she looked up, there was guilt there—and something hotter underneath it. “You’re not an outsider, Malachi. But this?” She gestured around the room. “This is bigger than just us.” Her gaze snapped to Archie. It wasn’t subtle or gentle.
Archie didn’t look away. He deserved it. He’d kept Malachi at arm’s length for so long that his son had started to believe it was distance by design.
“That’s just more cryptic bullshit." Malachi rolled his eyes. His breathing was shallow now, fraying at the edges
“Language!” Ina snapped, sharp like the crack of a whip.
