For a moment—everything stopped.
The underground chamber still crackled with residual energy, the broken stone beneath them still trembled from their battle, but the weight of Dexter's voice cut through it all.
Trevor.
The name hung in the air, heavy, unshaken.
The cloaked figure didn't respond at first. He simply stood there, his head tilted slightly, the dim torchlight barely illuminating his features beneath the hood.
Gerald sniffled beside him, wiping at his face like a lost child. His earlier sobs had quieted, but the remnants of his heartbreak still clung to his posture.
Dexter, however, wasn't looking at the boy.
His golden eyes were locked onto the man before him.
His older brother.
Daemon clicked his tongue, breaking the silence. "Well, well." His gaze flickered between Dexter and the new arrival, his expression unreadable. "This just keeps getting more interesting."