Devon felt his throat tighten.
"They hid," Aelthir added. "When the world hunted them for their power. Warlocks, witches, vampires, and wolves, each feared what they represented."
Arwen's eyes darkened.
"But before they could be found… they had children."
Devon's breath stalled.
Children...
"Twins."
"Devlin Magnus."
"And Dezyne Magnus."
Arwen stepped closer, her expression gentle and filled with emotion. "You are their legacy, Devon. Not a mistake. Not a curse. A miracle twice over."
Devon trembled. His parents were the two impossible exceptions in all history. The only hybrids that survived what should have killed them. The only ones who balanced the magic that should have torn them apart. And he… was born from both.
"What does that mean for me?" Devon whispered, voice breaking.
Aelthir's gaze softened.
"It means you carry a power the world has never seen," he said. "Not even your parents possessed the combination you do."
Arwen nodded.
