The first thing Paley felt was the absence of pain.

  He opened his eyes, expecting the crushing weight of a mana debt, the paralysis, or the agony of torn muscles. Instead, he felt... whole. Better than whole. A terrifyingly intense vitality thrummed beneath his skin, his mana reservoir not just full, but overflowing.

  He sat up in his bed. The morning light filtered through the window, catching the dust motes dancing in the air. For a split second, looking at the sleeping forms of Reben and Adimia, the world looked wrong. A faint, shimmering white light radiated around them, pulsing gently. It looked warm. It looked fragile.

  It looked delicious.

  Paley blinked hard, shaking his head until the white light vanished and they were just his brothers again.

  He brought a hand to his mouth. There was a taste lingering on the back of his tongue. Copper. Static. And something rich and gamey.

  The memory of the nest didn't need to flood back; it was already there, sitting in the center of his mind like a boulder in a river. The crunch of bone. The warmth of the meat. They way the hunger had vanished the moment he swallowed.

  He scrambled out of bed, his feet hitting the cold floorboards. He didn't stumble. He moved with a fluid grace that he hadn't possessed yesterday. He hated it.

  He rushed to the washbasin in the corner of the room. He poured water from the pitcher, splashing it frantically onto his face, then dug his fingers into his mouth. He scrubbed his teeth with a rough cloth, then his tongue, scraping harder and harder until his saliva turned pink. He wanted to gag, to vomit up the strength that was coursing through him, but his body refused. His body loved it. His body felt like a king that had finally been fed a royal meal after multiple years of starvation.

  "Paley?"

  He froze, water dripping from his chin.

  Amasha was sitting up in his bed. The little boy was pale, his eyes wide, staring at Paley's back.

  Paley slowly turned around, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. "Amasha," he whispered, voice cracking. "Are you... does it hurt?"

  Amasha didn't answer. He scrambled off his mattress and ran across the room. He hugged Paley, grabbing his tunic so tight he might have torn it. He pressed his forehead against Paley's side, trembling.

  Paley put a hand on the boy's head. Physical contact with the Diagnose spell of Healing Magic would tell him about injuries, but he didn't need magic to know that Amasha was healed. The bite marks and electrocution injuries were gone.

  "I'm sorry," Paley breathed into the quiet room. "I'm so sorry."

  Amasha just shook his head against Paley's ribs, refusing to let go.

  Downstairs, the air was thick with tension. Adimia was pacing by the door, while Jurie sat at the table with the others, staring at mugs of tea they hadn't touched. When Paley walked down, Amasha attached to his side like a shadow, the relief in the room was palpable, followed immediately by confusion.

  "You're walking," Adimia said, stopping his pacing. He looked Paley up and down. "...you collapsed. We thought you'd be out for a while."

  "I..." Paley started, but the lie stuck in his throat. How could he explain that he was fine because he had consumed a family of monsters? How would they look at him?

  "What happened in that nest?" Jurie asked softly. "Mother and Adimia found you, but they... Mother won't say what they saw." Indeed, Madella had only told them all to prepare water and hushed Adimia to never say a word about the scene in the nest.

  Paley looked down at Amasha. The boy was looking up at him, eyes filled with this terrifying mixture of trauma and adoration. Amasha had seen Paley's rage. He had seen his brutality in how he ripped a jaw from a skull. He had seen the flesh in Paley's mouth.

  Amasha opened his mouth. His voice was a rasp, unused since the screaming.

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  "He saved me."

  The room waited for more. But Amasha just tightened his grip on Paley's hand, staring defiantly at his older siblings prying for answers. "The monster had me. Paley beat them. He saved me."

  It technically wasn't a lie, but it was certainly an immense omission. Adimia looked at Paley, searching for a boast or pride in the hunt, but he only found a hollow and haunted look. Adimia nodded slowly, deciding not to push, with his limited emotional intelligence.

  "Okay," Jurie said, letting out a breath and looking to Teerom for confirmation, "Okay. We got him back. That's what matters."

  "Where is Mother?" Paley asked.

  "Back porch," Jurie pointed. "She's... cleaning your clothes."

  Paley detached himself gently from Amasha, leaving him with Jurie, and walked to the back door.

  Madella sat on a stool, a bucket of soapy water at her feet. She held Paley's tunic - the one he had worn yesterday. The water in the bucket was dark red. She was scrubbing a stain that had already set, her movements hard and repetitive.

  She stopped when he stepped onto the wood and turned, but did not look him in the eye.

  "Your fingernails," she said, her voice thin, like glass on the verge of shattering. "Come here."

  Paley walked over. He knelt beside the bucket.

  Madella took his hand. She picked up a small brush and began to scrub under his nails. There were flecks of dried darkness there that he hadn't managed to get out.

  "I went to the nest," she said quietly, almost whispering.

  Paley held his breath.

  "I saw the monster. And her cubs." She paused, dipping his hand into the water. "I've seen wolf attacks. I've seen monsters eat each other. Animals... animals eat to survive. But they dont..." She couldn't finish the sentence, unable to describe the absolute, violent dismantling she had witnessed.

  A tear fell from her face, landing in the bloody.

  "I..." Paley whispered with a broken voice overcome with emotion, "I'm sorry. I'm... disgusting. I'll lea-"

  "Not another word." Madella dropped the brush. She took his wet, cold hands in hers and brought them to her lips. She kissed his knuckles, squeezing her eyes shut.

  "You are my son," she said fiercely, the words vibrating against his skin. They were not the words he'd expected: words of horror, disgust, and repulsion. "You are gentle, Paley. You cook with me. You help with the chores. You hold the door open for me."

  Tears flowed from his eyes and his face scrunched with emotion. "Mother, I-"

  "No," she cut him off, opening her eyes. They were wet, filled with a desperate, terrified love. She was looking at him, but she was also looking through him, trying to see him for who he truly was: someone kind. "You brought your brother home. That is all. You are not a monster, Paley. Do you hear me? You are not."

  "I hear you," Paley said.

  "Good." She let go of his hands, kissed his forehead, and picked up the tunic again, scrubbing harder than before, as if she could wash the memory out of the fabric. "Go check on Teerom. He hasn't come down yet."

  Paley stood, feeling heavier than he had when he was paralyzed. He walked back inside, past the silent kitchen, and up the stairs.

  Teerom's bed was in the corner. The blanket was pulled up to his chin. He was shivering, his skin slick with sweat, his face flushed; a high fever had taken over him.

  "Teerom?" Paley knelt by the bed.

  Teerom's eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. When he saw Paley, he flinched - a tiny, instinctive recoil that drove a spike of ice into Paley's heart. Then, recognition set in, and Teerom displayed a weak, lopsided smile.

  "Hey, buddy." Teerom croaked. "You're back."

  "You're sick," Paley said, placing a hand on Teerom's burning forehead, using a Diagnose spell to find out that it was an fever caused by emotional trauma somehow.

  "Just bad dreams, man..." He coughed, shifting uncomfortably. "Suddenly passed out when the whole thing with Amasha happened. I don't know why, but... I remembered my father- well, father figure... Remembered a bad day."

  Paley pulled his hand back. "Your hand is bleeding."

  "Fell down."

  "It wasn't a cut. It was ripped."

  "Darn you, Quimnia... Nothing gets past you, huh?" Teerom looked at Paley, his face warm and his eyes slowly focusing on his brother, indubitably his brother. "I'm a Dark Conjurer." He revealed.

  A moment of silence fell upon the room.

  "A what?"

  "Eh? You don't know what a Dark Conjurer is?" Teerom blinked, trying to spot any bluffs on Paley's face, "Hahaha! Here I was trying my best to hide it!"

  "What is it?"

  "I'll tell you when I'm better, man. We got time."

  Paley looked at his older brother's fragile smile. "I'm sorry," Paley whispered, the words feeling just as useless as he felt horrifying.

  "Don't be stupid," Teerom murmured, closing his eyes again. "Why are you apologizing? Hm, maybe it is you fault; I knew cooking with Magic wasn't good for health, haha... I'll be fine tomorrow, don't worry. You brought Amasha back though, right? You beat that thing?"

  "Yeah," Paley said, standing up and backing away. "I beat it."

  He walked to the window and looked out at the peaceful, sunlit garden. He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart, rhythmic but fueled by the massacre in the hollow.

  Madella was wrong. He wasn't just a boy who did what he had to do. He was something that terrified others. He was something that ate living creatures and felt good about it.

  Whether he was a vampire or any other type of half-monster, he resolved himself.

  I will never let it out again. I will starve you until you die.