Tyler's POV
The dim light in the room cast shadows on the walls as I broached the subject that had lingered in the air like a silent storm. Luke and I sat across from each other, the weight of our immortal existence and the complexities of our relationships pressing down on us.
"Luke," I began, my voice carrying a weight that mirrored the gravity of our conversation, "we need to talk about Danielle."
His gaze met mine, and I could sense the conflict in his eyes. "Tyler, I know where you're going with this. And you're right, it's time we address it."
I took a deep breath, the reality of the situation settling in. "Darci lied about the child. It wasn't mine. But the fact remains—Danielle is marked by me. She wears my mark, and I wear hers."
Luke's expression softened, a mixture of under
