Jason stood amid the residual heat and ash of the previous battle, the body of the fire-skinned demoness still cooling on the cracked volcanic stone. He had made a scene—loud, violent, and decisive—but something else tugged at the edge of his awareness. A faint, distant calling reached him from his own dimension, from the realm he had left behind. The sensation was subtle yet unmistakable. The Marrow was no longer solely his.
Fragments of it now resided elsewhere.
Both of the newborns carried a piece. No—all three of his children did. The older infant who had already displayed impossible protective magic, and the twin boy and girl who had just entered the world, each held a sliver of the same ancient authority. The realization settled over him because Jason could feel it despite not understanding how or why.
He pushed the thought aside for the moment. There would be time to examine what that meant later. Right now the immediate threat demanded his full attention.
