Theory's knock was met with a swift invitation into another world. The door swung open, revealing Caspian, who seemed to have captured the essence of the bath within his very skin. Droplets of water trickled down his golden torso, catching the light and shimmering like liquid sun. 

Theory's breath hitched—not from surprise, but from the unexpected assault on his senses.

Without waiting for a formal invitation, Theory stepped past the threshold, his determination a palpable force that seemed to push the door closed behind him. Caspian's smirk was the last thing to fade as the latch clicked into place.

The room was a small sanctuary from the outside world, warm and suffused with the soft glow of lantern light. Before either could settle into the quiet, a loud crash from next door shattered the momentary peace. Niro's room.

Caspian's eyebrow arched, and his gaze flicked between the vibrating wall and the visibly tense Shifter. Theory set his bag down with a finality that brooked no argument. "I'm sleeping here tonight," he declared, the resolve in his voice leaving no space for dissent.

Caspian's response was a nonchalant shrug, his demeanor as untroubled as the surface of a still pond.

As the sounds of destruction and bestial growling continued to seep through the walls, Theory was forced to consider his choices. He had wanted to believe that his allegiance with Niro was the safer bet, that their shared mission bound them in loyalty. But the truth was, he barely knew Niro, and the Breeder's actions were becoming increasingly unpredictable.

"What set him off?" Caspian's voice cut through Theory's ruminations.

"His own prejudices," Theory muttered, focusing on unlacing his boots, attempting to anchor himself to a mundane task.

"And why do you two travel together if you dislike each other so much?" Caspian inquired, the sound of his towel moving over his skin a soft counterpoint to the chaos next door.

Theory glanced up, catching an eyeful of Caspian's sculpted form before quickly looking away. "That's the million gold rue question, isn't it?" he mumbled to himself. Louder, he added, "Because I made a promise to someone that I'd protect him."

It wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough. It was a vow that bound him more tightly than any chain could.

Caspian considered him for a moment, his head tilted. "I mean no disrespect, but it seems to me that Niro can protect himself. His aura alone would keep most predators at bay."

"It didn't stop you," Theory pointed out, a half-smile flickering on his lips despite the situation.

"Well, I did say most," Caspian returned with a light chuckle.

Theory let out a weary sigh. "He's not all there," he said, tapping his temple. "Despite what you might think, I can hold my own. I've saved his ass more than once before you came along."

Caspian raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Apologies," he said, his tone sincere.

Theory waved him off, a silent acknowledgment that lingered in the space between them. He didn't need to justify himself, not to Caspian, not to anyone. He was here because he chose to be, bound by a promise, driven by a code that only he needed to understand.

As they settled into an uneasy silence, Theory got on the bed, lying as far away from Caspian as he could manage. His eyes closed, but sleep was a distant hope, kept at bay by the rumbles next door and the thoughts of a fire yet to come.

***

The night settled around Theory like a cloak, heavy and suffocating, as he lay on the small section of the bed. Despite the earlier chaos, exhaustion eventually dragged him under, pulling him into a restless slumber. The last thoughts that flickered through his mind were a tangled weave of Niro's rage, Caspian's paradoxing presence, and his own turbulent emotions.

In the depth of the night, a sound stirred Theory from his uneasy sleep. A low, snuffling noise, like an animal searching for something in the dark. He tensed, his instincts kicking in before his mind could fully comprehend the situation. A heavy weight pressed against him, constricting, yet not entirely unpleasant. Confusion mingled with caution as he slowly turned his head to identify the source.

Beneath the blanket, he discovered the origin of the weight: Caspian, curled up against him, his head resting on Theory's stomach. The incubus's tail was wrapped possessively around Theory's thigh, a silent claim that was as surprising as it was intimate.

Theory was about to react, to shake off the unexpected proximity, but then he noticed the expression on Caspian's face. The Incubus was clearly in distress, his features contorted, the quiet snuffling sounds evidence of a struggle within the landscape of his dreams.

Nightmares. The realization softened Theory's initial annoyance. Here was Caspian, an mysterious and often infuriating being, laid bare by the demons of his subconscious. It was a vulnerability Theory hadn't expected and one that made him pause.

Caspian, despite his confident façade, was not immune to the shadows that haunt the night. What battles did he fight in the quiet horas? What memories clawed at him, leaving him seeking comfort in his sleep?

Carefully, Theory placed a hand on Caspian's head, his fingers threading through the fiery curls. There was a certain irony in the gesture—the fire Shifter offering solace through touch. Yet, as his hand moved in gentle, soothing strokes, he felt Caspian's body relax, the tension easing from his frame.

The night continued its silent march, and Theory found himself lost in thought, his hand moving automatically. He pondered the complexities of the beings around him, each with their own hidden scars and silent wars. Even in the midst of his own turmoil, he couldn't help but feel a kinship with Caspian, a connection forged in the quiet acknowledgment of shared pain.

Eventually, his own exhaustion reclaimed him, and he drifted back to sleep, his hand still resting on Caspian's head, a silent guardian against the darkness.

Rising broke with the subtlety of a whisper, its light creeping into the room and dispelling the remnants of the night. Theory awoke to find himself alone, the space beside him cold, devoid of the Incubus's warmth. No trace of Caspian left behind except for the faint impression on the blanket where he had lain.

Theory sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The room felt emptier, the air somehow colder without Caspian's presence. He wondered where the Incubus had gone, what errands or thoughts had driven him from the room at the break of dawn. 

With a deep sigh, Theory pushed the memories to the back of his mind and began preparing for the day.

Dressed and ready, he made his way downstairs, his steps echoing softly in the still-quiet inn. The familiar sounds and smells of the tavern greeted him—a comforting reminder of normalcy. He found a secluded table, ordering a simple breakfast and a cup of strong tea to clear the remnants of sleep from his system.

As he waited for his meal, his attention was drawn to the front bar, where Niro was speaking with the innkeeper. The conversation seemed to revolve around the cost of damages, presumably from Niro's outburst the previous night. Theory's jaw tightened as he watched the exchange. The frustration from their last encounter still simmered beneath the surface, a slow-burning ember.

When Niro turned and their eyes met, Theory's response was immediate and unthinking. He looked away, deliberately ignoring the Breeder. Niro's presence was a complication he wasn't ready to address, not after the raw words they had exchanged.

Yet, in typical Niro fashion, the Breeder chose to engage. He picked up his pace, making his way to Theory's table and unceremoniously dropping into the seat opposite him. Theory could feel the weight of Niro's gaze, but he kept his attention fixed on the empty plate in front of him.

"Where is Caspian?" Niro asked, his voice betraying a hint of irritation.

Theory remained silent, his anger from the previous night coalescing into a cold, hard resolve. He had no desire to entertain Niro's questions, to play into his games. The memories of their heated exchange, the accusations and hurtful barbs, were too fresh, too painful.

Niro's presence at his table was a clear provocation, but Theory was determined not to rise to the bait. He focused on the pattern of the wood grain, tracing the lines and knots as if they held the answers to questions he hadn't even asked.

Niro let out an exasperated sigh but didn't push further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, observing Theory with an unreadable expression. The silence stretched between them, a chasm filled with unspoken words and unresolved tensions.

The arrival of Theory's breakfast broke the tension, providing a welcome distraction. He ate mechanically, each bite a mere formality. Niro, on the other hand, seemed content to sit in silence, his presence an unyielding fixture.

As Theory finished his meal, he realized that the day ahead would be a test of his patience and his resolve. Navigating the complexities of his relationship with Niro, dealing with the enigmatic Caspian, and focusing on their mission would require all the strength and focus he could muster.

Without a word, Theory pushed his plate away and stood up, ready to face the challenges of the day. He left the table, leaving Niro behind, his steps firm and decisive. 

Today, he would not allow the shadows of the past or the uncertainties of the present to dictate his path. He would move forward, with or without the understanding of those who walked alongside him.