20-Obligations

  -Chapter Start: Next day, August 16th, 11:51am

  The soft patter of rain against the windows stirred both me and Valia awake, nearly in unison. We’d somehow made our way back to the couch, everything neatly arranged again—pillows fluffed, blankets folded, like the chaos of the day before had never happened. Valia lay beneath me, arms tucked around my waist, cradling me in that protective, half-wolf way of hers. Her hand moved slowly through my hair, fingers grazing my scalp in a way that bordered reverent. Her eyes cracked open just as mine fluttered to life.

  “Hey there, handsome. You look like hell.” She murmured, sleep still thick in her voice, a lazy chuckle rolling out after it.

  “Looks like just another day for you.” I croaked back, returning a weak, half-pained laugh.

  I let my face sink back into her chest, losing myself in the warmth, the rise and fall of her breath, the low rumble of her pulse beneath skin and fur. I could’ve stayed like that forever… Just one more moment wrapped in her sound, her scent, her—

  THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK.

  “Hey! Dick-cheese! I know you’re in there, open the fuck up!”

  The door rattled, and the security bars shook. Zylas’s voice split the calm like a sledgehammer to stained glass. I groaned, of course it was Zylas.

  THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK.

  “HEY! It’s raining out here, do I gotta open this myself?!”

  “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” I called back, dragging myself upright.

  “Damn right you were.” Valia muttered with a sly grin, her voice honeyed with sleep and victory.

  I managed to tug on a pair of shorts and stagger toward the door. Just lifting the security bar sent a fresh jolt of pain ricocheting through my body, and I hissed through clenched teeth. Before I could even fully open it, Zylas—currently in her human form—pushed the door inward and brushed past me without so much as a glance.

  “Morning to you too.” I mumbled, lowering the bar and nudging the door closed with my heel. “What brings you back to my neck of the woods?”

  I turned and caught her looking me up and down with narrowed eyes and a sniff that might’ve been from the rain or the smell of the house. Drops of water dripped from her hair to the floor. She was clearly still riding the edge of her half-werewolf form—clothes damp, stretched, and hanging off her like she’d run through a forest and lost a fight with a tree. So, her normal look.

  Her eyes darted past me to the original hole she’d made of me beside the doorway. Then they flicked to the newer, larger, more recent me-sized crater in the drywall. She blinked. Her usual scowl shifted into something… approving?

  I rubbed my eyes to be sure. But no, she gave a solid few nods of apparent respect, lips twitching like she was fighting off a smirk. Without a word, she reached into her jacket and produced a black envelope. Perfectly dry, despite her soaked clothes and hair. She held it out.

  “Lord gave this to me directly.” She said, voice unusually neutral. “No magic traversal. Your eyes only.”

  Her gaze still hadn’t fully left my body, flicking now and then to the bruises on my neck, and the fresh marks half-hidden beneath my waistband. Behind me, Valia stirred and stretched with a yawn, the sound a low, luxuriously satisfied thing.

  Zylas’s eyes flicked toward her. “Well don’t you look like a ray of fuckin’ sunshine.” She said, with her trademark snark barely masking a layer of dry amusement. No words came from Valia as I opened up the envelope, a small magical ‘poof’ of smoke came from it as I took out a rolled piece of parchment.

  Your idea has merit, and is already in use in a much different way.

  If you’re willing to trade a favor for a favor, it can become reality with no caveats.

  Bring Zylas.

  -L

  “Well that’s not foreboding at all…” I muttered, eyes scanning the short message again before glancing up at Zylas. Even standing over me, she clearly hadn’t read it—too busy continuing her silent study of Valia’s apparent victory. I held the parchment up toward her. She looked down, and after a moment’s read, released a long, dissatisfied grumble. Behind me, Valia’s arms slid gently around my waist. She leaned in to peer over my shoulder at the note, then tilted her head slightly in that thoughtful way of hers before turning and padding toward the fridge.

  “Well...” She said, pulling out a large container and setting it on the counter. “Looks like you’re going to be busy.”

  “Let’s eat before anything else.” she added over her shoulder.

  We cleared out most of the leftovers before heading out with Zylas’ help, surprisingly. The effort gave me a bit of time to adjust to the reality of my bruised existence. When we finally stepped outside, the rain was still light but persistent. The walk was oddly peaceful, slow in a way I appreciated. We followed the same road where we’d first met.

  “Kind of wild how much can change.” I murmured, Zylas beside me, matching my sluggish pace.

  “That’s one way to put it.” she replied casually, her gaze roaming the path ahead. We walked in silence for a while, passing Baku’s shop on the way. The lights were on, shelves stocked, but the place looked empty. Still, it waited—quietly expectant—for its next visitor.

  Ten… fifteen… maybe twenty minutes passed before I realized something important:

  I had no idea where we were actually going.

  “Hey, uh… where exactly—?”

  “Your place is out in fuck-all Whisper’s Ridge.” Zylas interrupted; eyes glowing faintly as she looked ahead. “Lord’s place is across Moonverge. ‘Bout another hour and some change at this pace.”

  “Ughhh… I don’t know if I can walk that far.” I groaned, my legs already staging a quiet rebellion. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees for a moment. When I looked up, she’d stopped, watching me. But her expression wasn’t the usual snark or irritation. It was… unreadable. Plain, almost. Dare I say, it was practically human. I’d thought I was starting to understand her—learning how to read past the barbed words and constant deflections. But standing here now, I realized something:

  That armor she wears? That sharp-edged, no-bullshit persona?

  It’s the only side of her I’ve ever really seen.

  “What?” she asked flatly. Her tone was dry and monotone… but not entirely hostile. “It’s not a race. We’ll get there whenever. Lord’s not exactly tripping over himself to handle anything that isn’t a Rule Breaker.”

  “That’s true.” I huffed, stretching slightly. Zylas merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue onward. I paused for a moment, honestly expecting something, any type of mockery from her…. Nothing, she just… Stared, patiently.

  “You uh, feeling alright?” I asked as we continued onward, though my eyes didn’t leave her trying to get any type of read. She didn’t answer right away. Her steps stayed steady, but something in her expression… wasn’t the same. Zylas was too quiet, almost too still, like she was wrapped up with something in her mind. Then, without a word, she started to shift.

  A fine layer of fur crept across her arms and cheeks, subtle at first—like the rain coaxed it out of her skin. Her shoulders broadened slightly, spine adjusting with a few low, audible pops. She turned into her half-wolf form, but without the aggression or finesse she normal does. Her eyes took on a dull amber glow compared to her normal monstrous amber, catching the gray light of the overcast sky.

  Still, she said nothing as she kept a painfully slow pace compared to what she normally could in that form.

  “Yup.” She finally spoke and glancing up to the sky momentarily. She casually took a few strides ahead of me, and knelt down. Enough so that her back was lower than my height.

  “Not the first time I’ve carried your sorry ass.” She muttered nonchalantly. “At this rate, won’t be the last.”

  “I—I mean, we could just wa—” I tried, instinctively protesting.

  She cut in, sharp and immediate with a turn of her head. A golden eye bore down into me.

  “Did Valia swipe your balls too, or were you always this bitchy?” Her voice snapped back to normal—dry, aggressive, and unmistakably Zylas. “Just get on so we can get this day over with.”

  The ride to Lord’s place was mostly quiet, and surprisingly direct. Even with it being midday, Zylas only paused a few times while jumping or running through the Bastion—thanks to the bad weather helping cover her tracks.

  She dropped me off about a block away, casually shifting back to her human form before leading us the rest of the way on foot.

  “So what’s this brilliant idea that needs my help?” She asked as we approached a large brick building. I glanced around—empty street, no onlookers—as we climbed the wide staircase toward the entrance.

  “A trade network of sorts.” I began before a sharp pain tore through my thigh. I froze near the top, just a few steps from the door, as the muscle locked up. I winced, kneeling to press my weight into it. A few seconds passed before the tension eased, the pain fading to a dull ache. I groaned in relief.

  “Most people don’t even know or acknowledge other Bastions exist. Hell, even most supernaturals don’t, much less travel between them.” Zylas quipped as she offered a hand without hesitation. “The CDS is the only body I know of that breaks that mold.”

  “Right. But Eerie’s Respite has stuff other Bastions don’t. And vice versa.” I said, still a little thrown off by how… normal she was acting. “Wait, did you know about the CDS before I joined?”

  “Yeah. Took a job for them once. Killed the client though. They didn’t like that.” She casually admitted as we reached the double doors and stepped inside.

  The interior adjusted to greet us—grand marble flooring underfoot, polished wooden staircases curling upward in elegant spirals. Hallways stretched in every direction, rich with ambient light and timeless decor.

  “Up we go.” she said, already leading the way.

  A few minutes into our climb—up another set of stairs, down a twisting corridor—I finally asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  The building’s non-Euclidean layout was messing with my senses, but Zylas moved like she’d walked it a hundred times.

  “You’re the one who said you wanted to talk on equal footing.” She snapped, a little closer to her usual tone. “Don’t expect this kind of shit in public.”

  “I… didn’t think you—”

  She stopped, grabbing my shoulder to halt me.

  “Look.” She sighed; voice rough around the edges. “I get it. Valia likes her new emotional support dildo. But that’s not me.”

  Her eyes burned bright gold, the way they did when she hunted.

  “You wanted me to understand you? I do. More than I wanted to. You want me to cut back on hunting humans so another you doesn’t happen? Fine. You’re giving me your damn life force, so I’ll play along. You want us to talk like we’re equals, so things are normal? You’re really pushing my limits here, but hey. Here we fucking are.”

  She leaned in slightly.

  “But worrying about how I feel?” She growled. “I’d rather have my fur plucked—"

  “Woah, okay! I get it, I’m asking too much.” I said quickly, glancing down in shame before meeting her eyes again. “Then… is any of that too suppressive for you?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Just stared, her glare full of deliberate agitation.

  “If you weren’t so fucked up—and I wasn’t bound by contractual obligation—I’d punch you in the face right now.”

  I offered a nervous smile. “If that makes you feel bet—”

  I didn’t even see the paw swing—just felt the air shift as it came within inches of my face. I flinched instinctively, pain flaring up across every sore muscle like lightning. My legs gave out, and I hit the ground hard, curling instinctively into a ball as my body screamed in protest. Above me, I heard a quiet, satisfied laugh. By the time I could uncurl, Zylas was crouched in front of me, watching with a mix of disdain and mild amusement.

  “I’d say you’re fucking pathetic…” She murmured. “But honestly? I’m impressed you made it this far in your condition.”

  “Your honesty is scarier than your insults.” I groaned, slowly pushing myself upright.

  “Good.” She stood up and stretched lazily. “Stay frightened.”

  “I’m overjoyed you were able to make it here so quickly, Dae—” Lord began with his usual sarcastic blandness, pacing idly across the room. But he faltered mid-step as soon as his eyes landed on me. His expression didn’t change—he simply stared, silent and still, his gaze darting briefly from me to Zylas and back again. “Did you and Zylas...?”

  “Maybe in his wildest fucking dreams.” Zylas snapped, holding up her hand as her claws extended with a soft shink. They glinted in the low lighting.

  “That’s fair.” Lord shrugged, interest already fading from his eyes. He wandered over to one of the couches and collapsed onto it, stretching out like a cat in a sunbeam, staring blankly at the ceiling. “So. Your information network idea? Already being implemented by Overseers globally.”

  “Overseers? Aren’t you all too busy not giving two shits to set up something like that?” Zylas scoffed as she and I settled into a different couch nearby. She sprawled out, claiming more than half of it with practiced ease.

  “Quite. And yet, somehow, someone figured out how to weaponize our apathy.” Lord replied with a lazy yawn. “We’re excellent at reacting, just not… following through.”

  “So the CDS isn’t run by you, or another Overseer?” I asked, easing onto the cushion beside Zylas, leaving some distance between us.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Definitely not.” he muttered, stifling another yawn. “That’d be The Chimera.”

  “The fuck’s that?” Zylas asked, already half-yawning herself.

  “A chimera is an entity made of other things. Could be anything—wolf’s head, lizard’s body, centaur’s legs. It’s a mess of parts pretending to be whole.” I explained, glancing her way.

  “So am I killing this thing or what?” Zylas deadpanned, turning her eyes to Lord.

  “You’re here for something else.” Lord’s tone didn’t shift, but his gaze fixed squarely on me. “Tell me, do you understand the scales that balance this world?”

  “Well…” I began. “Humanity’s Deal created Overseers and World Contractors like you and Zylas. Overseers hunt down Rule Breakers—those who violate their World Contracts—and either eliminate them or convert them into Restrictive Contractors.”

  Zylas glanced at me, sharp and unreadable.

  “Mostly correct.” Lord nodded, standing and stretching slowly, joints cracking audibly. “Then there are those like your... tenant. The ones who existed before the Deal was struck.”

  “We don’t adhere to the Deal, but can still be vulnerable to its Contracts.” Lilith’s voice slipped through me like warm smoke, just shy of seductive, just shy of a threat. “We can even usurp a Contract if it suits our nature. That said, standing between an Overseer and a Rule Breaker invites retribution.”

  “Correct.” Lord paced again, slowly circling the room.

  “You’re telling me the whore stood between me and Lord?” Zylas growled.

  “She did. And she put me on the defensive, if only briefly. But that’s not the important part.” Lord replied, tone still maddeningly even.

  “Her strength isn’t the point?” I asked.

  “It matters, but no. It’s not the crux.”

  “She’s only punished if she puts herself between a Restrictive and an Overseer.” Zylas muttered, watching Lord prowl.

  “I can kill, maim, and burn without consequence otherwise.” Lilith purred.

  “And yet…” Lord added as he came to rest behind his couch. “We feel it. All of it. The balance of supernatural and human worlds is a current that passes through us. When it shifts, we are compelled to act.”

  “Is that why you’re so goddamn chatty all of a sudden?” Zylas shot back as Lord leaned forward, peering over the couch’s back.

  “Today, yes. The balance has tilted. Supernatural influence is rising, and humanity may suffer for it.”

  “So go handle it.” She growled. “Overseers are the strongest thing in existence, aren’t you one?”

  “I can’t.” His voice remained calm. “There’s no Rule Breaker causing it.”

  He circled again to face us. “Overseers across the world feel it. We’ve all messaged The Chimera, but no one knows how to respond.”

  “So it’s an Ancient Contract holder?” I asked.

  “Possibly. No signs, no incidents. Just pressure. When you were marked for death, Daegon, six Overseers—including me—were alerted. That never happens for standard Rule Breakers.”

  Zylas chuckled, low and unsettling. “So if you hadn’t stopped me…”

  “You could have collapsed several Bastions.” Lord said without flinching.

  “But now it’s different?” I pressed, unease mounting.

  “Yes. The sensation remains, and it’s growing.” Lord sighed and sat again. “Which is why I’m indulging your little network idea.”

  “What’s the catch?” I asked, glancing toward Zylas.

  Lord looked at me directly. “Have you ever thought about killing a god?”

  It wasn’t the question that chilled me—it was the silence that followed. Heavy. Intent. Lord leaned back without concern, like he hadn’t just dropped a divine grenade in our laps.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead.

  Lilith stirred. Her presence wrapped around me like velvet steel. “You want us to form a force—something to counterbalance Ancient Contractors. To subdue them, kill them if needed. You want Zylas for her mutable contract and raw power. Me for what I am. And Daegon…” She gestured to me internally. “As your potential problem—or solution.”

  “Correct.” Lord’s gaze didn’t waver.

  Lilith smiled, a sharp, cold grin that barely touched her eyes. ‘Trust me.’ She whispered in my mind. ‘Just this once.’

  “Then prove it.” she said aloud, voice fully hers now. “Attack me.”

  “You know that’s against my very nature.”

  Lilith raised her hand, a rune glowing to life above her palm.

  Zylas moved—silent and fast—retreating to the far end of the room.

  “You—”

  Before he could finish, a line of roaring fire erupted from our palm, molten and blinding. The blast hit, and then abruptly stopped.

  A jagged, crystalline line split the room, from Lord’s couch to my arm and foot, and up the wall. Cold shot through me. The affected limbs were entombed, encased in glassy, shivering crystal that bit into the skin like frost.

  “So you’re not bluffing.” Lilith murmured, inspecting the construct. She raised her other arm and struck the crystal hard enough to crack it, then ripped free.

  Lord stood atop a spire of his own creation, eyes vibrating with raw, glacial power.

  “Find allies you trust…” He said as the structure began to melt away. “And make that trust their price of admission. Keep Zylas near. I’ll replace her at the Den.”

  “I’ve got a welp—Carna. Runs the place when I’m not there. She’s your best bet.” Zylas said, stepping back over the fading crystal and collapsing into a mostly intact couch. “Good luck making her ditch her contract just to be reshaped.”

  “That’s an awful lot of commitment.” Lord mumbled, sinking into his seat again, more a shadow than an Overseer of immense strength and social pull. “I’ll reconsider in a month…”

  Thunk.

  “Fffuuccckk…” I groaned, sagging against the front door, only to realize it was still barred. Of course it was. I could feel that Valia’s presence had left about an hour ago, so I knew she wasn’t home to let me in.

  Lilith stirred within, gently forcing her way to the surface. My right hand lifted without my input, palm pressing halfway up the center of the door. A faint vibration pulsed through the wood like a heartbeat under stone. I turned the knob—and this time, it opened.

  “Right. The bar trick.” I muttered, limping inside. The stale scent of sweat and debaucherous musk wrapped around me like a half-forgotten memory. “Leave the door open.”

  “That’s a blessing.” Zylas murmured behind me, lifting the bar with a casual grunt and leaning it against the door to keep it open.

  I shuffled around the room like a kicked dog, reaching through the bars on the windows to crack them open for the first time in what felt like forever. The breeze that slid in carried the smell of wet pavement and rusted metal, cutting through the heavy indoor musk.

  On a nearby shelf, I noticed Valia had arranged a few sticks of incense, all unlit. I reached for a lighter before realizing I didn’t own one. Then Lilith’s fingers snapped. A tongue of flame hovered just above the tip of her index finger. I wordlessly took the cue, lighting the incense one by one, placing them around the room like it would ward off the exhaustion chewing on my spine, or at least help clear the air.

  Once done, I collapsed into the couch. Not from fatigue, but from the sheer, grinding pain in my body. Muscles screamed, bones echoed dull protests, every inch of me throbbed like it owed someone rent.

  “How’d you pull off that bar trick?” Zylas asked from the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter like she wasn’t just compared to a multi-level extinction event an hour earlier.

  “Valia attuned it to herself—and, I guess, me. If we push energy through the right spot, it releases.” I grumbled, peeling off my shirt with a wince. Cold air bit into my skin like pins, but it felt good—clean, honest pain over the dull ache that blanketed the rest of me.

  I looked myself over. The bruising was spreading, like it had been waiting for me to sit still long enough to show its full color. Purple-black swaths marbled across my ribs, and scrapes ran down everywhere in angry red trails. Every breath reminded me how alive I still was—unfortunately.

  “She’s a fucking blender.” I muttered.

  “Bitch is in heat and hasn’t fucked in months.” Zylas replied dryly, crouching near the front door to inspect the hole left in the wall, her own handiwork. “Honestly surprised you didn’t lose a limb.”

  “You ever gonna fix this?” she asked, poking at the edges of the hole.

  “Probably once I’m not a crippled mess.” I said, forcing myself up with a grunt. I threw on the loosest shirt I could find, something more like a curtain than a piece of clothing, and stumbled over to her side.

  “So, at least another month.” she said flatly, standing back up and turning to survey the damage on the opposite wall caused by Valia. “On second thought, probably two.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’m trying to move out anytime soon. It’s… Fine.” I muttered, trudging past her and yanking open the fridge. “Rrriiigghhtt… we cleaned it out this morning.”

  I shut it again and turned around. Zylas was watching me—expression unreadable, eyes too calm. That kind of studied silence from her? Way more painful than any insult she could’ve hurled.

  “I’ll be back.” she said finally, a soft sigh slipping out as her form shifted just slightly—barely noticeable, like her presence dimmed at the edges.

  “Wh—”

  “Shut your hole and lock this place down, you half-shattered fuck ornament.” She snapped, with more care than malice. “Before Valia gets some bright idea about mothering you.”

  I’m unsure how long it took me to lock up once Zylas left, much less how long I slept for before the loud clanging of the metal bar throwing itself off the door rang through the house I jolted upright, half-drenched in cold sweat, half-blistered in pain. Every nerve felt like it was trying to file a complaint at once. In the doorway stood Zylas, soaked through and mostly wolfed-out, water dripping off her in steady rivulets. She carried a large bag in each arm and a full body-bag worth of goods strapped across her back. Steam hissed faintly off her fur where the warmth of the house clashed with the rain clinging to her.

  “WHAT?” She howled, catching my startled, half-conscious stare as she dropped the bags onto the floor with a heavy thud that rattled the nearby furniture. Rainwater immediately began pooling around her feet, spreading out in lazy, shimmering trails across the battered hardwood.

  I groaned and sagged back into the couch, the blanket I'd stolen earlier offering a poor shield against the stabbing aches wracking my body. A thin line of smoke curled lazily from the incense stick nearby; it had burned halfway down, giving the room a muted, earthy scent that couldn't quite cover the sharp smell of wet fur and rain-soaked pavement now creeping in through the open door.

  “Catch.” Zylas growled, and a large, battered cardboard takeout container sailed toward my face. I fumbled but caught it against my chest, the contents rattling inside. A rich, greasy smell of roasted meat, fried vegetables, and something spiced and unfamiliar hit me immediately, setting my stomach rumbling like it hadn’t been fed in years.

  “Now you won’t starve.” She muttered.

  I cracked open the container a little, letting the hot steam hit my face. Whatever it was, it was miles better than dying hungry.

  “What’s all the rest of that?” I asked, glancing out the still-open door. The rain had picked up—fat, heavy drops hammering the road and front step hard enough to form growing pools of water that shivered with every impact. Zylas kicked the door shut behind her with a soggy thunk.

  “Remember what Lord said, and what you so kindly agreed to?” She said, as she swung the enormous body bag off her back. It hit the floor with another resounding whud, sending a spray of water splattering across the floor.

  “As much as I’d enjoy your slow, pathetic death." She continued, her voice dripping sarcasm. "I'm currently obligated to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Soooo…” I drawled cautiously, watching her unzip the bag. Her wolf form visibly shrank down, fur pulling back and receding into skin as she shifted back. From the bag, she started pulling out a makeshift construction kit—tools, patch materials, maybe even enough to fix the bigger hole in the wall if you squinted hard enough.

  “Didn’t I tell you to eat?” Zylas barked over her shoulder, not bothering to look at me. Water still streamed off her, now that her fur wasn't trapping it, puddling across the floor in slow, steady streams.

  It was honestly a little scary watching Zylas work while I sat hunched on the couch, slowly chewing my way through dinner. With the seasoned grace of a craftsman, she patched the hole by the door so cleanly it looked almost flush with the wall. Before I could blink, she had already moved on to the damage near the bathroom, fixing it with the same sharp efficiency.

  I made the executive decision not to get up and inspect her handiwork once she declared she was done. My body agreed. Instead, I melted deeper into the couch as Zylas disappeared into the bathroom, monopolizing it for the next twenty minutes—and, judging by the sudden lack of warmth in the air, draining every ounce of hot water.

  When she finally reappeared, she tossed two of my sad old floor towels over the remaining puddles of rainwater scattered around the living room. She looked different too—new clothes, dark and sharp. Hidden somewhere in her arsenal of bags was a fresh outfit: torn black jeans, a long knitted striped shirt, and enough punk-rock edge to look like she'd just stepped out of a mosh pit.

  “When did you learn to patch things like that?” I asked, my voice a little stronger. The spiciness of the food was doing wonders, radiating a slow, comfortable heat through my battered body and somehow dulling the aches.

  “You’d be surprised how many of those fuckwits didn’t mind touching an unconscious lady in front of them.” Zylas replied bluntly, hefting the smaller of the two large bags and dropping onto the couch beside me.

  A stronger wave of savory smells hit me as she dragged out another box of food—and promptly shoved it into my lap. Then another. And another. My arms were suddenly a precarious tower of takeout containers, still warm and greasy through the cardboard.

  “That’s…” I started, staring at the pile, praying it wasn’t all meant for me.

  Without missing a beat, Zylas grabbed two containers for herself, plopping one beside her and prying the other open with a snap of plastic lids. She stabbed a thick piece of meat with a disposable fork and tore into it without ceremony.

  “I’ve heard how much you eat.” She quipped between mouthfuls, flashing a sharp grin. “Start fuckin’ shovelin’.”

  A soft prattle sounded against the front door before it quietly swung open, the metal security bar phasing in and out before it fully opened. A familiar warmth brushed over my arm, giving away who it was even before Valia stepped inside, her presence rolling through the room like a soft tide. Despite Zylas’ earlier rain-soaked entrance, Valia seemed dry, the faint background shimmer of Dionysus' Haven lingering behind her like an echo.

  “Oooh, hey Daegon.” She teased without looking up, juggling two large bags against her sides. “Got some special goodies for us today.”

  “Sup, sugar-tits.” Zylas barked from the opposite end of the couch, now sprawled out like a lazy wolf in the sun.

  Valia jumped, her hand slipping on the door and accidentally slamming it shut behind her. She spun around, wide-eyed, scanning the room—the bundled towels, the fresh patches on the walls, and the still-damp floor.

  “You... fixed the holes?” She asked, genuine confusion softening her features.

  “Well, someone had to.” Zylas yawned, dragging her limbs across more of the couch before finally sitting upright with a grunt.

  “But why are you here instead of—” Valia cut herself off, her gaze catching on the pile of empty food containers at our feet.

  “Lord’s suggestion.” Zylas said through another jaw-popping yawn. “Said I should stick closer for now. Plus, it’s shit-raining outside, so I’m stuck here either way.”

  Valia frowned slightly, clearly calculating, before carrying one of her bags to the kitchen counter. The soft crinkle of paper filled the air as she sorted through the contents, stuffing a few boxed leftovers into the fridge with brisk efficiency. When she finished, she padded back toward the couch, a mostly empty bag dangling from one hand. She nudged my leg lightly with her knee, motioning for me to scoot over.

  “We got a gift from the Songstress.” Valia said brightly, pulling out the familiar crystal that had once sat glowing on our table. “We were supposed to take it that night, but, well... we got a little distracted.”

  “Explains the hole.” Zylas muttered under her breath, smirking.

  Valia shot her a withering glare but said nothing. Instead, she placed the crystal on a small stand next to the couch, where it immediately began to cast a soft, golden glow, warming the space around us. Finally settling beside me, Valia pulled out her own box of leftovers, her tail flicking lightly before curling itself comfortably behind my back, radiating a slow, soothing heat.

  Valia finished her meal while Zylas and I caught her up on the day's chaotic events. Her eyes widened in disbelief as we laid it all out, genuine concern shadowing her features. Truthfully, I hadn't even processed half of it yet myself.

  "I think it’s more about putting a deterrent in place than actually fighting." I said, gathering up the loose food boxes and shuffling them over to the kitchen counter. Behind me, I heard Zylas stretch with a series of pops and low grunts as she reclaimed her sprawl on the couch.

  "I really doubt that." Valia said bluntly. She gave Zylas a pointed glance, then turned back to her bag, rummaging through it. She pulled out four small vials, each one catching the dim light and gleaming with suspicious viscosity. I was just making my way back when she lifted one small glass, filled with a thick red liquid, and held it out to me.

  "Drink this one." She instructed. "I was hoping to save it for tomorrow morning, but..." Her eyes flicked toward Zylas again. "...I doubt we’ll get any downtime."

  Before I could answer, Zylas stretched again and made an exaggerated show of looking out the window.

  "Hey, would you look at that. Rain’s letting up." Zylas declared. It very much wasn’t. If anything, the storm outside had gotten worse. Sheets of rain lashed the street, puddles forming into small rivers, and each gust of wind rattled the house.

  "The Den’s probably in a frenzy since I haven’t shown up today anyway." She added, voice trailing off into another yawn.

  She stood, shaking out her limbs, and stared at her still-damp bags. With a heavy sigh, she dragged one toward the bathroom, leaving a faint streak of water on the floor.

  Valia leaned close, her voice dropping into a whisper near my ear, her breath tickling my skin. "If Zylas stuck around because of Lord’s suggestion, doesn’t that raise any red flags?"

  "Working for the CDS as a human is already one massive red flag." I whispered back, her ear twitching at the closeness. "Besides, if my network idea works, we might get some of the strongest Bastion beings to actually deal with this shit themselves."

  "That's real fuckin' bold to assume, y'know." Zylas called out from across the house, clearly eavesdropping. She kicked her bag toward the front door with a heavy thud, then another, her strength casual and intimidating even in small motions. "But hey, at least you’re not sending me to kill everything."

  "I doubt you’d mind." Valia muttered under her breath, eyeing the wet tracks Zylas' bags left behind.

  "If the other Ancient bastards are anything like Daegon’s slut." Zylas said, her voice rough with a mix of admiration and insult, "I'd actually have to try for once." She dragged the last bag with a clawed foot, grinning a little too wide. "Besides, who's gonna babysit your worthless meat-sacks if I’m gone?"

  "She sadly has a point." I admitted, earning a sharp glare from Valia.

  "What?" I said with a shrug. "Who around here could even hope to keep up with her in a fight?"

  An awkward pause filled the room, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder as Zylas casually shifted back into her full werewolf form. Her fur bristled slightly as she grabbed the security bar and leaned it against the wall, then opened the door. Outside, the world was barely visible—nothing but a wall of water pouring from the sky, the ground lost beneath a haze of mist. A thunderous crack split the air, so sharp and close it rattled the windows and made the floor shudder beneath us.

  "Later cock-sleeve." Zylas barked, her laughter cutting through the rain. "Hope your new cuddle-monster leaves enough of you to scrape off the sheets next time.”

  She slammed the door shut behind her, leaving behind a deep, humming silence broken only by the rain hammering the roof.

  "What the hell is wrong with her?" Valia whispered, wide-eyed.

  "You’ve known her longer. I’m surprised you’re still surprised." I said, chuckling as I sank deeper into the couch.

  "The fact you’re used to it is way more concerning." Valia murmured, a sly smile creeping across her lips.

  Before I could react, she leaned in, both hands cupping my face with surprising gentleness, her touch warm and steady. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she tilted my head slightly toward hers.

  "Now." She purred, voice like velvet. "If you’re not too exhausted... I’ve got a different vial for us to try."

  fun...

  *Sniff, sniff sniff* Is that, plot? But not to be outdone, Zylas' snark is here to keep our attention! What's everyone's thoughts on Zylas' part to play in this story? Despite being one of the strongest beings, at least Eerie's Respite, and so much of our story has involved her... Do we truly know her by this point?