[Third Person Pov]

“You seriously would have kept it from me?” Markus asked, his voice tight as a look of hurt and betrayal spread across his face. His jaw trembled as the realization settled in, and with it came a surge of anger he could no longer keep contained. He took a step forward, his wings twitching beneath his jacket as his voice rose. “You don’t think I have every right to know what I am? Or who my own father was?!”

“It’s not about whether you had a right or not,” Faith shot back, her own emotions boiling over. She straightened her posture as if bracing herself, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “It was for your own protection. I was trying to keep you safe, Markus!” Her voice cracked as it grew louder. “It was the only way I could think of to keep you as far away from that side of the world as possible!”

“You made me hate my own father!” Markus snapped, the words ripping out of him before he could stop them. He glared at her. “By trying to keep me away, you made me believe my father abandoned us! That he wanted nothing to do with us—that he was scum!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me, young man,” Faith warned sharply, her tone hardening as she took a step closer. “I am still your mother.” Her voice wavered despite her stern words. “You have no idea what it was like for me, hearing that at any moment you could die. That some monster—or whatever from your father’s world—could come after you without warning and kill you.” Her eyes glistened as the fear she had buried for years surfaced. “I lived every single day terrified that it could be your last.”

Markus clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms, his jaw locking as he fought to keep himself from shouting again. His wings tucked in close, quivering restlessly against his back. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what his mother was saying—he did. Too well, maybe. What he couldn’t stand was knowing that nearly his entire life had been built on half-truths and silence.

“I get that you’re upset with me, and you have every right to be,” Faith continued, crossing her arms over her chest as though trying to hold herself together. “But I only did what I thought was right in the moment. I never meant to make your father the bad guy in your eyes. But if it pushed you away from all his craziness, then I didn’t care.”

Markus ground his teeth together, his eyes burning as he stared at her. “That…” His voice shook as he forced the words out. “That is so incredibly selfish.”

It was Faith’s turn to snap. “Selfish?!” she exclaimed. “I did it for you!”

“Liar!” Markus shouted. “You did it for yourself!” He took another step forward, pain and fury spilling out all at once. “You said it yourself—you only did what you thought was right! You weren’t thinking about Dad or me. You just didn’t want to be alone!” His voice cracked as years of resentment came flooding out. “You didn’t care that Dad wanted to be a part of our lives, or how that affected him. And you didn’t care how it affected me either! Everything we went through—everything we had to endure—was because of you! Because. You. Were. Selfish—”

SLAP!

The sound echoed through the room.

Markus froze, his head turned to the side as he slowly lifted a hand to his cheek. A sharp sting lingered where her palm had struck him. He looked back at his mother in disbelief, his eyes wide as he saw tears welling up in hers.

Even Faith looked shocked by what she had done, her hand trembling at her side.

Markus didn’t say anything. He simply nodded, a small, empty gesture, before bending down to grab his bags from the floor. Without another word, he turned and began walking toward his room.

“Markus wiar—” Faith called out, her voice cracking as regret flooded her expression. She reached out as if to stop him, to apologize, but the damage had already been done.

Markus paused at the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder. “When I met with Dad,” he said quietly, “it was clear he still loved you.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

Markus opened the door, stepped inside his room, and shut it behind him.

He tossed his bag onto the bed and climbed onto the mattress, his movements heavy and exhausted. Slowly, he began undoing the bandages wrapped around his torso until his wings were finally free. He pulled his knees up to his chest as his wings folded around him, shielding him from the world—until he felt the mattress dip beside him.

“We take it… it didn’t go that well with your mother?”

Markus lifted his head in surprise, blinking through the haze of emotion to find Bianca and Nico already in his room. Bianca sat on the opposite side of the bed, her expression soft with concern, while Nico leaned casually against the windowsill, arms crossed.

“What are you guys doing here?” Markus asked, confusion slipping into his voice.

“Lucian had a feeling you’d need some support after your talk with your mother,” Bianca said gently. “So he made sure we were here for you, since he couldn’t be.”

Markus let out a tired sigh and shook his head slightly. “Of course he did.”

…

“Afterwards, Bianca and Nico stayed with me for a bit,” Markus continued, his tone quieter now, weighed down by lingering emotions. “They tried to cheer me up… crack jokes, distract me, the usual.” His lips twitched faintly before flattening again. “And then, a few minutes later, your shadow lady showed up by the window.” He finished his tale with a conflicted expression, eyes unfocused as he stared at the floor.

“I see,” Lucian said after a brief pause, giving Markus time to breathe. He tilted his head slightly, studying him. “Markus, you know I love you,” he added carefully, “but I’m going to be honest with you.”

Markus braced himself.

“You deserved that slap.”

“Shut up,” Markus muttered immediately, turning his head away so he didn’t have to meet Lucian’s gaze.

Lucian rolled his eyes, resting his spear across his shoulders. “I get that you were upset with her, I really do. But you said those things knowing damn well they’d hurt her feelings. Hell,” he added bluntly, “I would’ve slapped you too.”

Markus shot him a sharp glare, his ears burning. “Just shut it already. I get it.”

“Oh, I know you do,” Lucian replied smugly. “But want to know what I think?”

“No,” Markus said flatly. “But you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Lucian replied with a wider grin, puffing his chest out just a little. “I think you went too far calling her selfish.” His tone softened despite the teasing edge. “From everything I’ve heard and what I know about her, she willingly went through the same level of hardship you did just to keep you safe. Hell maybe even more than you and I could ever possibly know.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she was busting her ass every day just trying to provide for you.”

Markus didn’t respond. He stared down at the floor, jaw tight, absorbing the words whether he liked them or not.

Lucian continued, more thoughtfully now. “From what I’m seeing, some of that anger you’re feeling? It’s because you put your mom on a pedestal.”

“What?” Markus looked up at him, genuinely confused.

“Mind you,” Lucian said, lifting a finger, “this is just my interpretation of what I’ve seen and heard from you. But there’s no denying you think incredibly highly of your mother.” He smiled faintly. “So you’re probably struggling to come to terms with the fact that she isn’t perfect—and that she made a mistake.”

Lucian’s grin softened into something warm and understanding. “From one mama’s boy to another,” he said quietly, “as much as we want to believe our mothers are perfect… they’re not. They’re very far from it, actually. They mess up. They fail sometimes.” He shrugged lightly. “But that’s okay. They’re still trying their best.”

He paused before smirking. “No one’s perfect, Markus. You can’t expect them to be.” Then he added, grinning, “I mean, there’s me—I’m about as perfect as they come—but that’s beside the point.”

Markus scoffed, shaking his head as a faint, reluctant smile tugged at his lips. He pushed his dreads back from his face and exhaled slowly through his nose, some of the tension easing out of him.

Lucian extended a hand toward him and said jokingly, “Now come on. Get your little ungrateful ass up so you can go make up with your mother.”

Then his expression shifted, growing more sincere. “You don’t have to forgive her right away,” he added gently. “Just… try being a little nicer. As far as mothers go, we only get one.”

Markus raised an eyebrow as he took Lucian’s hand. “Don’t you have, like, three?”

“Shush,” Lucian said, rolling his eyes as he pulled Markus to his feet. “That’s beside the point.”

Lucian turned and started walking ahead, his spear resting behind his neck, arms draped over it. “Now come on.”

“Huh? Where?” Markus blinked, momentarily confused.

Lucian glanced back at him with a deadpan look. “Where do you think, genius? You’re going to make up with your mother—even if I have to be there as the mediator.”

Markus let out a resigned sigh as he followed, dragging his feet slightly. Despite himself, a reluctant smile curved along his lips.

…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Lucian stood with his hands clasped behind his back as the door opened.

Faith answered it, confusion crossing her face when she saw an unfamiliar figure standing there.

“Greetings!” Lucian announced cheerfully, raising a hand. “My name is Lucian Blackheart.”

“Huh?” Faith blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “As in Markus’s roommate?”

“No,” Lucian said casually. “I’m actually his boyfriend—”

“Dude!” Markus shoved him aside, stepping into view where his mother could finally see him.

Lucian laughed as he stumbled to the side. “Anyways,” he continued unfazed, “I came bringing home your little runaway—”

“Markus!” Faith gasped, relief flooding her face as she immediately pulled him into a tight embrace. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?!”

Markus stiffened for a brief moment, then slowly relaxed as he heard the anxiety in her voice. He wrapped his arms around her. “Sorry…”

“I’m sorry too, dear,” Faith whispered, her voice breaking as tears welled at the corners of her eyes. “I should never have raised my hand against you.”

Lucian sniffled dramatically from the side. “Moments like these,” he said softly, “always warm my heart and brings a tear to my eyes”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep