Chapter 10

"Gosh, Miracle! I really don't have an answer to that!" Lyn said, squeezing out too much anti-acne cream on her palm.

"How can you not know? You've been here longer than I do!" Miracle shot up from the turquoise queen-sized bed and threw a pillow in her direction.

"Being here early doesn't mean I know everything!" She twisted her body and dodged the hit. "It's clear that Mynheex has gotten so much stronger than before. We could hardly trace them out even if they were to disguise themselves among the humans," she said, tossing it back.

"That's why I'm asking if they have any marks!"

"Trust me." Lyn strode toward Miracle and snatched her pillow. "We don't know any more than you do. This is the first time somebody actually asked me this question. We all know how dangerous it is to catch a glimpse at their marks even if they have one."

When the room fell into silence, she continued, "Miracle, Mynheex ate too many humans. They conceal their breath of immortality so well that it's hard to tell them apart."

The dragon girl swallowed her words. Aside from what she was told, she knew nothing more about this cycle. 

Mynheex belonged to fallen angels. They vanished the dragons for their Lord to take over this world.

"Then the more Hayden should tell you."

"No." Standing beside her, she dropped her head to meet her eyes. "It's exactly because of that, Dad chose to hide everything. Most of the dragons don't understand the entire story behind this repeating mission. I mean, the same goes for Kingsley and me." Lyn shrugged. "Dad always tells us to stay away from such matters. He claimed it's something only the elders should deal with."

Disappointed, Miracle left the room. As she descended the stairs, a symphony of aromatic spices danced through the air, tantalizing her senses and stirring her appetite. She paused at the last step and peeked.

Hayden was preparing breakfast in the kitchen as usual, and surprisingly, she was beginning to get used to this routine—eating three times a day, or maybe more. 

Carefully tiptoeing from behind, she was about to greet him when she saw him talking to a wispy bubble floating above the stove. It displayed a man about the same age as him. Hayden snapped his fingers. More silver smoke from the fronds linked itself to the hovering channel, widening its size for a better view.

Accidentally on purpose, she retreated and hid behind the fridge.

It sounded like a big problem.

And she concluded it was the moment she heard her name.

“Help me find out more about her. I'm not denying that this cycle is way more diabolical compared to before," Hayden's heavy tone was heard. "But no matter what it is, I'll protect Miracle," he muttered, waving the bubble away.

"Hayden?"

Her sudden presence gave him quite a start. She saw his muscles tense. 

"Oh, good morning! You're early today." He forced a smile. "Give me another five minutes and breakfast should be ready."

His call with the man earlier made her insecure. Miracle moved closer to him. "Hayden, is there anything I can help with?"

He chuckled, gently pushing her to the dining table. "Just wait there. I'm almost done with the porridge."

She stopped and turned around to look at him. "No. That's not what I meant."

Hayden tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what she was trying to say.

"I overheard your conversation," she breathed. "What's wrong with this cycle? Why is it more diabolical?"

In a flash, the warmth and gentleness in his eyes were gone, taken over by the fear he had been trying to hide ever since the call. And it was as if the wooden ladle could sense the sudden growing pressure in the air. It slipped, almost entirely into the pot. Hayden tightened his lips. His hazel browns darkened, highlighting his deep eye bags. 

She was waiting for his reply.

But he wasn't planning on saying a thing yet.

"Mi—"

"We're having porridge today?"

Interruptions.

Melvin kept a distance of two stairsteps from the twins as he walked down. "Porridge?" he repeated in a softer tone, aware that he wasn't well-accepted in the family.

Lyn pulled out the dining chair and sat on it while tying her hair into a bun. She extended her head to look inside the kitchen. "Dad?"

"Huh?" Withdrawing himself from Miracle's intense stare, Hayden quickly went over to the pot and switched off the alarming stove. "Yea, coming!"

When he tried to get to the remaining Watsons, Miracle squeezed his arm and pressed him to stay. "I'll be waiting for your answers, Hayden."

As soon as she finished saying that, she took the tray and left the kitchen.

Kingsley was pouring the chrysanthemum tea into the disposable filter bag hung around the glass rim, straining it carefully.

Meanwhile, Melvin stood next to the table, hesitating to take a seat. He looked lost and isolated.

"Sit, Melvin." Miracle dragged out the chair with one of her feet while serving the porridge.

Nodding, the boy flashed a smile at her.

But the next second, Kingsley slapped down his spoon, splattering bits of the meat chunks across the tablecloth. "No. I'm out if he's in."

Lyn nudged her brother's elbow, muttering something which seemed to ask him not to cause trouble. "Dad's here," she muttered. "Don't."

"I don't care. You know exactly why he shouldn't be here, Lyn!" he whispered back so fiercely that he almost spat out the food in his mouth. "I'm out if he's in," Kingsley repeated and brushed away Lyn's touch.

"Say that again."

Hayden appeared. He removed the apron from his waist and took the main seat at the table, his eyes deadly serious.

It wasn't a request.

But a challenge to go against him.

"Say that again." He held Kingsley’s glare.

"It's okay!" Miracle interjected before things could take a turn for the worse. "I'll bring him out for a walk," she said, grabbing Melvin's arm to leave.

"Wait, Miracle." Hayden increased his tone, still having his eyes fixed on his son. "Name me the three things I taught you since young."

Kingsley pursed his lips, looking nowhere else but his porridge.

"Dad—"

The younger sister wanted to intercede for her brother, but she trailed off the moment Hayden spared her a sharp stare.

“Lyn, I'm talking to Kingsley."

Their dad was angry.

"Name me," he said again.

Kingsley sighed. "To be kind, to be kind and..." His voice wavered at the last. "To be kind..."

"And what are you doing right now?"

No response.

"Are you showing any hints of kindness to this boy?"

He shook his head.

"Did I teach you to ignore a person like him?"

Second shake.

"My boy." Hayden's expression softened as he ruffled Kingsley's dark brown hair. "Who doesn't want to be treated with kindness when darkness is all he has left?"

Though they were not done with their breakfast, Miracle insisted on taking Melvin out for a walk. The sun was high up in the sky, shining ever so brightly.

Ready with her shoes on, she glanced to the back. Melvin was still sitting at the doorstep, taking forever to tie his shoelaces.

She went over. "What's taking you so long?"

"These strings... I just can't get them right."

"How can you be worse than me?" she mumbled to herself. 

He leaned in closer. "Hmm?"

"Nothing. Come on," she said, tightening the laces on his shoes.

When they were about to step out of the gate, or to be more precise, the barrier, Melvin hovered his foot for a while before resting it back on the ground.

"What's wrong?"

He stretched out his hand, and the external layer surrounding the house rippled under his touch. It sparked a thin streak of light, shoving him away from the protection.

Melvin stumbled. ”What... What is this watery thing doing out here?" he whispered. 

Miracle froze. "W-What?"

"The—"

All of a sudden, he collapsed to the ground and began rolling around, convulsing in extreme pain. Every fiber of his being trembled uncontrollably. It felt like there was a switch buried in his body, being flicked on without any prior notice.

"Melvin?!" Miracle hurriedly rushed over and caught him right before he hit the composite fence. "Are you okay?"

The stones around jolted from their original positions. He pressed his sweaty palms against the sides of his head, veins bulging. His pulse throbbed so intensely that she could practically see them pulsating.

"Melvin! Can you hear me?"

"Help... help..." It was barely a hiss. "It's killing me..."

And the pain continued to strike him down.