Parker blinked, something shifting in the back of his head. Oh... right. Fuck.
Even though the Ravencrofts were the only ones who needed his magic directly to unlock their full witch potential, all the Origin Families had always drawn from something deeper than ambient energy. They fed on the Ether, yeah, but that was just the surface. Their true source—the battery that juiced their existence—was him. The Prince.
His presence alone was like divine Wi-Fi. The closer they were, the stronger their signal.
Helena's eyes were already on him. Maya too. Both looking at him with this mix of really? and you forgot this?
Parker narrowed his eyes and leaned toward Helena. "Is that disappointment I'm sensing from you?"
Helena blinked. "I wouldn't dare," she replied, way too fast, voice sweet and still awkwardly respectful. Too respectful.
Maya snorted. Her daughter outright laughed.
"Sometimes I forget she's your aunt and not your housemaid," Maya joked, nudging her daughter. "Wasn't this the same woman who once refused to bow to the Owner of Existence herself?"
"Yup," Nyxavere chimed in, grinning. "But now? Look at her. All submissive like a royal puppy. She's always like that with daddy but not daddy's other siblings or the Whole Mother."
"I can hear you, Maya and Little Nyxavere," Helena said quietly, deadpan, without turning her head.
"And I don't regret a single one word," Maya replied, shrugging.
Parker had to stop himself from laughing.
He looked back to the assembled Origin Families and the extended members who'd been quietly standing off to the sides. The ones who weren't direct bloodline carriers but still held weight in the legacy. They were loyal. Some were bodyguards. Others, advisors. Few were old enough to remember his previous incarnations.
He raised a hand to get their attention.
"Alright," he said. "Y'all can head to your new places. Your respective mansions have been restored and expanded. If your bloodline's connected to a main house, you've been reassigned accordingly. Everything's already been linked. For those from far, your places and the old ones are connected so no need to worry."
And just like that, the crowd began to split—members of each family turning and heading off.
Nyxavere had already handled it.
Each house—Ravencroft, Kingswell, Shadowmire, Zhang, Draven, and so on—had been fully reconstructed. All the extended houses and sub-families now had seamless connection to their main estates. Like the Kingswells, who were now fully occupying the Great Tree Mansion—an architectural beauty woven through a literal living tree that shimmered with enchanted leaves and glowing veins of magic.
Shit looked like a forest swallowed a penthouse and gave birth to royalty.
And that was just one of them.
This wasn't just unity. This was reintegration. And the palace? It wasn't just physical.
It was family. Rooted. Rewired. Reborn.
Parker didn't bother with the little details anymore—the whole palace restructure, the family housing logistics, who went where. That wasn't his lane. He turned around and headed back inside like the prince he was, hands in his pockets, calm as fuck. The leaders followed behind him quietly like loyal shadows. Only the top dogs now. Everyone else had dipped. Except Scarlett. The girl didn't dare step away from her mother's side.
It wasn't loud. But it cut through the air like a divine whip, and just like that, a scar in space split open behind them with a nasty sound. A tear in the damn fabric of reality. And out of it, they came flying—Robert, Julian, Annabelle, and Bella and others—thrown out like trash bags mid-eviction.
Bodies hit the ground hard.
Everyone recoiled, hands over mouths, coughing and gagging. Because damn. They didn't just look rough. They smelled like something that died, fermented, then made babies with sewage. Rotten pizza, wet socks, week-old corpse stew kind of energy. Worms were literally crawling out of them.
Tessa raised an eyebrow. "Is this Deadpool's stunt double audition?"
Then she tilted her head. "Nope. Deadpool looked better."
Helena rolled her eyes, lifted one graceful hand, and waved it.
With a flick of her fingers, the rot faded. Their bodies cleaned up in seconds, returning to normal like the whole hellish ordeal had just been a dream.
But Parker knew it wasn't.
Time in the Chaotic Abyss moved different. Five years had passed in there. Five fucking years of endless horror packed into a few minutes here.
She was the first to move.
She didn't walk—she ran. Her legs were shaking, face pale, but she pushed through until she reached him. Dropped to her knees like her body gave out the second she saw him.
Tears poured down her face, and she could barely speak through the sobbing.
"I-I'm so sorry… please… forgive me…"
Parker's expression softened. He crouched, reached out, and gently lifted her like she weighed nothing.
"It's over," he whispered. "Your nightmare's over, Bella."
And just like that, she passed out.
Unconscious in his arms.
The Kingswells looked on in silence, their faces twisted between guilt and sorrow. That was their daughter. That was their legacy. And right now? She looked like a ghost wearing her own skin. Luckily, the youngest one—Zara—was still asleep somewhere. She didn't need to see any of this.
Before Parker could say anything else, Elena moved in fast, like she'd been waiting for the moment. She gently took Bella from his arms, nodded once, and carried her off toward the inner mansion, her steps quiet but urgent.
Expression blank like all the code in her brain had crashed. She didn't move. Didn't speak. Just… existed.
Evelyn and Maya came forward, trying to help, but Parker raised a hand to stop them. They paused. He looked at Annabelle, eyes colder now, and signaled for her to be brought to him.
"Hey, Fen," he said, voice low.
"Mmm?" She barely responded. Her gaze was fogged, unfocused. She didn't even register what he was saying even.
Parker turned to Helena, silently asking the question.
She shook her head once.
Parker sighed, long and disappointed. Not in rage. Just that kind of sigh that said I really hoped you'd be different.
He waved her away. "Take her."
Annabelle didn't even know what was happening. One second, he was warm. Then, just like that, his warmth vanished. Replaced by something cold. Detached. Like she wasn't worth the energy anymore.
That hurt more than any punishment.
Parker stood still for a beat, then turned his attention to the rest.
"Everyone else," he said, not yelling—just commanding. "You can go. Robert stay."
And like that, the others left, one by one, leaving only the leaders of the Origin Families behind—and the man who was now about to have a very different kind of conversation.