"Quite the clever move from you, Mr. Smith," Lucien murmured, half in jest. "Who would've thought you'd come up with something like this just to win her favor?" Drake shot him a cool glance and replied under his breath, "I've no idea what you're talking about." Soon, they reached his bedchamber. No one was allowed to interrupt him during his mental comfort. Lucien could only wait outside. Emma still rested atop Drake's head; there was no helping that. But whenever Emma performed the mental comfort ritual, she would be perfectly quiet, not a sound escaping her. Drake's mental energy was indeed in shambles. The fragile, translucent membrane that had only just formed was already half dissolved. The magma beneath surged even more violently. Thankfully, Emma had experience now. With practiced ease, she cooled the raging currents until they stilled. It seemed Drake would need regular sessions like this from now on. Only then could that newly formed mental landscape remain intact, instead of melting away each time. … Outside the chamber, Silas, Corvin, and Edric finally arrived and messaged Lucien for an update. They quickly learned Emma was inside Drake's quarters, tending to him. Without hesitation, Silas ordered Thero Smith to take them there. Usually, Thero would have refused. This was, after all, Mr. Smith's private sanctuary. But these three were Emma's mates. And when Silas added that his cub was currently with Drake, Thero could hardly say no. When they arrived, Emma had just finished providing mental comfort to Drake and stepped out from his room. Drake followed close behind, his movements slow but intent. Perched happily between his horns, Remy bounced and howled, "Awoo… awoo…" "Mommy! Daddy! Did you hear that? Remy's howl is fierce, right?" Silas froze mid-step as he caught sight of the little creature mimicking a wolf. Drake, you deadpan. He's my cub. You can't have him. Silas stared at the childlike fruit with its high-pitched, milky voice, pretending to howl at the sky. In that instant, the soft warmth on his face froze like porcelain touched by frost, cracking apart inch by inch. Emma, of course, noticed nothing. Remy kept yipping cheerfully, "Awoo, awoo!" "Remy, you're a dragon," Drake corrected gently. "Dragons don't howl. You should roar, like this! Roar!" "Oh! So that's how we dragons roar!" Remy puffed up proudly and copied him. "Roar!" Emma didn't say a word.The kid's all mixed up. How on earth was she supposed to convince him that he wasn't a dragon, but a fruit? Silas drew a long, steadying breath and hurried to approach Emma. He didn't spare a glance for the little troublemaker who couldn't even recognize his own father. Instead, he looked straight at Emma, his voice low and warm. "Emma, I'm here." He studied her carefully, eyes tracing every detail, until he was certain she was unhurt. Only then did the tension drain from his shoulders. "Silas, you finally came." Relief flickered across her face. Seeing him felt like seeing light after a storm. Remy, however, was peering curiously at the newcomer beside his mother. He leaned toward Drake and whispered, "Daddy, Mommy got another mate. Another rival for your affection."Emma instantly tightened her grip on Silas' hand and looked up at the fruit sitting smugly on Drake's head. "Remy," she said firmly, "stop calling Mr. Smith 'Daddy.' This is your real father, Silas. You two are literally of the same kind, son!" The fruit, who was still actively bouncing a moment ago, froze for two seconds. Then, with a soft swish, it darted into Drake's hair. "Mommy, my father is Drake Smith! Don't give me away!" Drake's eyes darkened. He glanced warily at Silas. "Emma… did I do something wrong? Why are you trying to hand my cub to another beast?" The air between them tightened. Emma opened her mouth to explain, but Silas' fingers gently folded over hers. He gave her that same unhurried smile—gentle, reassuring, quietly powerful. He didn't look at the hiding fruit, nor did he acknowledge Drake's guarded stare. "Don't worry," he murmured. "Let me handle this." Such simple words, yet they carried a strange, calming magic. As if the chaos of the world could bend around him, until everything settled back into place. "Okay." Emma met his eyes and nodded with serious intent. Silas finally lifted his gaze to Drake. His eyes remained warm, his tone remained even. There was not even an ounce of hostility. He didn't even demand his cub back. "You've done well. You've taken good care of him. I'm not here to take anything away, only to correct a fact." Each word he spoke rang with quiet conviction, smooth and deliberate as polished jade. Drake frowned slightly. "What fact?" Silas' smile deepened, refined and unthreatening. Instead of answering, he countered softly. "Tell me, what do you think matters most to a child?"