Wingless

The veil between realms was hers to command.

When she chose to cross, it was like slipping through silk. The mortal world was a banquet, brimming with the ripe energies of lust and fear, and she savored every moment of the hunt. The rush of power when she found willing prey, the ecstasy of feeding—it was a cycle as old as the stars, and she and her kind were among its masters.

Tonight, she stepped into the rift once again, anticipation sparking through her as she searched for a soul to indulge her hunger. The mortal plane opened before her, its promises tantalizing.

And then it twisted.

The pull came sharp and sudden, ripping her off her path. She snarled, the energy around her warping into jagged edges that sliced into her essence.

This wasn’t a natural crossing. This was a summoning. The succubus fought it, claws raking at the air as if she could tear free of the invisible chains that dragged her downward. But the tether was too strong, its grip too precise. Whoever had constructed the ritual knew what they were doing, and they’d bound her tightly.

With a wrenching snap, she was dragged into their world, crashing into the summoning circle. For a brief moment, she tasted Earth’s air. Its crisp vitality should have been exhilarating, intoxicating—a playground of endless appetites. But something was wrong. The circle beneath her glowed with blood-red sigils, their edges jagged and broken, almost crude in their construction. The power that had summoned her was raw, twisted, and it clung to her skin like oil.

Her lips curled into a snarl as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. No prey waited for her, no trembling victim to feed the gnawing hunger in her core. Instead, there were figures—hooded and chanting, their voices a droning cacophony that scraped against her senses. She took a step forward, her hooves clicking on the stone, the chains of the summoning spell still pulling faintly at her wrists.

“You dare—” The first chain snapped out, faster than she anticipated. It looped around her wrist, burning where it touched her skin. She shrieked, more in fury than pain, jerking backward. Another chain followed, and another.

“No!” she roared, the room trembling with the force of her cry. The circle cracked beneath her feet, sparks flying as the sigils warped. She lashed out, claws slicing through the air, but they caught only empty fabric as the hooded figures scattered like frightened rats.

Her wings snapped open, dark and leathery, filling the space as she surged forward. She grabbed one of the figures, her claws sinking into their shoulder. Their scream was delicious—a fleeting taste of the fear she craved.

But the chains tightened. One caught her leg, pulling it out from under her. She hit the ground hard, the impact jolting through her body. More chains coiled around her, pressing into her flesh, pulling her down.

She fought. She screamed. She tore at the restraints with every ounce of her strength, the taste of rage and defiance briefly sharpening her thoughts. But it wasn’t enough.

The chanting grew louder, more insistent, until the words pressed into her skull like a bludgeon. Her movements slowed, her limbs heavy as the circle beneath her flared with an unnatural light.

When the glow faded, she was no longer standing.

Her arms were shackled above her head, chains bolted into the cold stone wall. Her legs were bound, unable to find purchase against the slick surface. The hooded figures loomed closer, their chanting fading into muttered laughter.

They reached for her, their hands grasping and rough, their intentions as clear as the leering hunger in their voices.

For a time, the chamber was alive with activity. They drained her blood into ritual bowls, her glowing ichor feeding their dark spells. Their chants filled the air as they carved runes into her flesh, making her part of their unholy work. Each slice of their knives burned with twisted magic, leaving her trembling but not broken.

Her rage fueled her. She snarled and snapped, her claws lashing out whenever they drew close. They struck her in return, bludgeoning her into submission, but even through the haze of pain, she clung to the hope of escape.

Then the blood grew thin. The rituals began to falter, the ichor they extracted from her veins dimming with each passing day. Their frustration grew sharp and violent. They blamed her for their failings, their punishments becoming more severe.

And then, one day, they took her wings.

The memory burned. They’d pinned her down, their hands pressing hard against her frail, starving body. The blades they used were jagged, serrated things, meant to make her suffer. She’d screamed—louder than she ever had before—her cries shaking the chamber as the bones cracked and tore.

When it was over, she could feel nothing but the ache of loss, a hollow void where her wings had been. They left her hanging there, her once-proud figure reduced to a mutilated husk. At first, they returned sporadically, their resentment sour in the air as they performed weaker and weaker rituals. Over time, even that stopped. The chamber fell silent.

Days passed. Maybe weeks. Time had no meaning in the endless darkness of her prison. They fed her nothing—not even the barest scraps of pleasure that her kind needed to survive. Her body withered, her once-sleek form reduced to angles and shadows. Her hair, once vibrant as freshly spilled blood, hung in tangled, matted strands.

The hunger gnawed at her, relentless and cruel. It ate away at her thoughts, her memories, her sense of self. She clung to fragments—faint images of her realm, of laughter, of warmth. But they slipped away, one by one, like sand through her fingers.

The worst was the silence. At first, it was filled with her own snarls, her curses, her roars of defiance. But as the hunger deepened, even those faded. Now, she growled low and soft, her breath shallow, her mind more instinct than reason.

A sound broke through the haze.

A crash, loud and jarring, echoed through the chamber. Dust rained down from the ceiling, at the far end of the dark basement and her chains rattled with the vibration.

Her head lifted slightly, the motion slow and feral. Her pink eyes glowed faintly in the dark the only spark left of what she had once been.

Something was coming.

And she was hungry.

The door cracked under the first kick.

Breaker, 1-3, reset his stance, his heavy boot hovering just above the rain-slick threshold. The battered frame sagged, and the old wood groaned, but the hinges refused to give. For now.

“Stack up,” Reaper’s voice barked over the comms. 1-1 had that sharp, no-nonsense tone I’d come to trust with my life. It was the kind of voice that never second-guessed itself.

“1-2, in position,” I whispered, bracing against the cold brick wall. My gloves gripped the shotgun tight, the suppressor snug against the barrel. Rain trickled off the edge of my helmet, pattering against my armor, soaking into the cracks between plates.

Breaker didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. The man was a freight train in combat gear. His second kick came harder, shattering the lock in a burst of splinters that scattered into the dark hallway beyond.

“Breaching!” he growled, surging forward.

The world narrowed to the space between his shoulders and the dim glow of flickering candlelight spilling from inside the house. My pulse thrummed in my ears, loud and insistent, but I slipped in tight behind him.

“1-2, moving,” I said softly into the comm.

The hallway swallowed us whole, narrow and stifling, with shadows clinging to every corner. The faint light of the candles made everything worse, their erratic flicker casting warped silhouettes across the walls. The air reeked—mildew, sweat, and something sharper, like copper. Blood.

“1-3, clear right,” Reaper instructed over the comms. His voice was steady, a lifeline in the gloom.

Breaker veered toward the first open doorway, his steps heavy but deliberate. “Clearing,” he rumbled.

I swung left, my shotgun leading the way. The butt of the stock was snug against my shoulder, every muscle in my body tight as a coiled spring. The shadows seemed to move with every sweep of my barrel, the shapes almost too human, too close.

“1-2, clear left,” I reported, stepping further into the house, the soft creak of the floorboards underfoot barely audible over the rain outside. The hallway narrowed ahead, leading into a larger room where the faint flicker of candlelight danced against the far walls.

Breaker moved up beside me, his heavy frame brushing past a crooked doorframe as he raised his weapon—a modified shotgun with slugs that could punch through thin walls.

“Shadows ahead,” he grunted, his voice low.

I followed his gaze. Movement. Subtle, but unmistakable. A shape darted across the far end of the room, disappearing into a side doorway.

My breath hitched as I keyed the comm. “1-2, movement ahead. Possible contacts.”

“Copy,” Reaper’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Keep pushing.”

Breaker took the lead, his steps deliberate. We moved in sync, clearing the cramped space with well-practiced precision.

The first strike came from above.

A plank from the sagging ceiling snapped free, crashing down just behind me. Instinct saved me—I ducked, spinning toward the source of the attack. A shadow loomed in the gap where the plank had been, a figure perched in the rafters. The flash of a blade caught my eye just as it came whistling down.

“Up top!” I shouted, raising my shotgun.

The first shot missed, the cultist slipping back into the dark. Breaker didn’t hesitate; his slug punched through the ceiling, sending splinters and blood raining down as the figure crashed to the floor in a heap.

“Contact, left!” Breaker barked, pivoting just in time to block a cleaver with his armored forearm. The cultist—a wiry man with wild eyes and a tattered robe—let out a guttural scream as he pressed his weight into the blade.

Breaker shoved him back with a snarl, following up with a brutal butt strike that shattered the man’s nose.

Before the body hit the floor, two more figures rushed into the room, their footsteps heavy against the warped planks.

One carried a crude spear, its tip wrapped in barbed wire. The other held a jagged, ceremonial dagger, its blade glinting faintly in the candlelight.

The spear-wielder charged first, aiming for Breaker’s exposed flank. I stepped into his path, the shotgun barking twice in quick succession. The first shot caught him in the chest, spinning him sideways. The second found his head, dropping him mid-stride.

The dagger-wielder hesitated, their eyes darting between Breaker and me.

“Don’t even think about it,” I growled, raising the shotgun.

They lunged anyway, their speed catching me off guard. The blade slashed toward my midsection, narrowly missing as I twisted to the side.

I retaliated with a hard kick to their knee, the joint buckling with a sickening pop. They screamed as they fell, their weapon clattering to the floor. A single shot silenced them before they could reach for it again.

“Clear,” I panted, sweeping my gaze across the room.

Breaker grunted, wiping blood from his gauntlet. “This is getting messy.”

The room fell silent, save for the faint crackle of the candles. I adjusted my grip on the shotgun, my knuckles white against the stock.

And then the chanting started.

It came from deeper in the house—a rhythmic, guttural cadence that crawled along my skin like insects. My stomach tightened as the sound grew louder, echoing through the narrow halls.

Breaker tilted his head, listening. “That’s... not good.”

“No kidding,” I muttered, moving toward the sound.

We passed through another doorway, entering what might’ve been a dining room at some point. A long, decayed table stretched across the center of the room, its surface littered with bones and bloodstained rags. The walls were covered in crude symbols, their edges burned into the wood.

The chanting was louder here, reverberating through the walls like a heartbeat.

“Contacts,” Breaker warned, his weapon rising.

A door at the far end of the room burst open, and three cultists stormed in, their robes tattered but their movements coordinated. Two carried weapons—an axe and a rusty scythe—while the third held nothing but their bare hands, crackling faintly with magical energy.

“Mage!” I shouted, firing at the axe-wielder.

The slug hit them square in the chest, and they dropped with a strangled cry. The scythe-wielder snarled and swung at me, the blade slicing through the air inches from my face. I ducked, driving the butt of my shotgun into their stomach.

They staggered back, winded, but didn’t fall.

The magic-user raised their glowing hands, muttering a phrase in a language I didn’t recognize. The air around them shimmered, the temperature plummeting as frost crept along the floor.

Breaker fired, the slug hitting the mage square in the shoulder. The impact sent them spinning, their spell collapsing in a burst of sparks. They screamed as they hit the floor, clutching their mangled arm.

The scythe-wielder took advantage of my distraction, swinging wide. The blade caught the edge of my chest plate, tearing away some of my armor — jarring but harmless. I retaliated with a quick shot, the blast tearing through their side and sending them crumpling to the ground.

The room was silent again, save for the faint whimpering of the injured magic-user.

Breaker approached them, his heavy boots crunching over shards of broken glass. He raised his weapon, the barrel aimed at their head.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand.

The cultist’s eyes snapped to me, wide and wild. Blood dripped from their lips as they whispered something — a word or a plea, I couldn’t tell.

“What are you summoning?” I demanded, leveling my shotgun at their chest.

They only laughed, a ragged, wheezing sound that sent a chill down my spine.

Breaker didn’t hesitate. The shot echoed in the confined space, the mage’s body slumping lifelessly to the ground.

“No time for answers,” he said gruffly, reloading his weapon.

The chanting had stopped.

I frowned, my gaze darting to the far door. The silence was worse somehow, heavy and oppressive, pressing down on my chest like a weight.

“We need to move,” I said, my voice low.

Breaker nodded, gesturing for me to take the lead.

As we pushed deeper into the house, the air grew colder, the shadows thicker. My senses were on high alert, every creak of the floorboards or flicker of the candlelight setting my nerves on edge.

The house felt alive, its walls pulsing faintly with residual energy. Whatever these cultists were working toward, it wasn’t finished.

Not yet.

The comm crackled. “1-4, upstairs is quiet,” Viper’s sharp tone came through. “Two tangos down. Looks like they didn’t have time to mount resistance.”

“Watcher here,” said 1-5, its voice calm and clinical as always. “Perimeter remains clear. No movement on the street, no heat signatures outside.”

“Understood,” Reaper replied. “1-3, 1-2, ground floor is yours. Clear and locate the basement entry. HVT may be below.”

Breaker grunted, acknowledging the order, and pushed deeper into the house.

The first attacker came fast. A man barreled out of a side room, his face obscured by a filthy hood. His rusted machete glinted in the candlelight as he swung it in a wide, clumsy arc.

Breaker intercepted him with ease. His gauntleted arm snapped up, deflecting the blade with a metallic screech. He followed up with a brutal backhand, slamming the cultist into the wall with a bone-crunching thud.

Another figure lunged from a doorway to my left. My shotgun came up instinctively, the suppressor giving the shot a soft bark. Blood sprayed across the wallpaper as the cultist crumpled to the floor.

“Clear left!” I hissed, stepping over the body.

“Good kill,” Breaker muttered. He didn’t stop moving, didn’t hesitate.

We pushed further into the house, our footsteps muffled by the damp carpet beneath us. The hallway opened into what might’ve been a living room, though it was unrecognizable now.

A crude altar dominated the center of the space, its surface slick with congealed ichor. Chains hung from the ceiling, clinking faintly with the movement of the air. The walls were blackened, covered in runes scrawled in what looked like blood.

The whole room was wrong, like walking into the aftermath of a nightmare.

“Contact!” Breaker barked.

Two more cultists darted out from behind the altar, their robes trailing like shadows. The first one raised a dagger high, screaming something guttural and unholy.

I fired once, and the scream turned into a wet gargle as the figure collapsed onto the altar. The second cultist turned to flee, but Breaker moved faster. He caught the man by the arm, twisting with brutal precision before slamming him face-first into the wall with a loud crunch, before dropping the corpse.

“Living room secure,” I called out over comms.

“Copy, 1-2,” Reaper replied. “Basement entry should be close. Check the far wall.”

Breaker grunted and moved toward a battered cabinet, its base warped with water damage. He shoved it aside with one hand, revealing a narrow door.

The house groaned around us, its walls seeming to buckle under the weight of something unseen. The air felt wrong here, thicker than before, and the faint taste of copper lingered at the back of my throat.

“Feels like we’re walking into a trap,” Breaker muttered, his shotgun up and ready.

“Feels worse than that,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

The silence stretched as we stood before the cabinet, listening.

And then the wall to our right exploded.

A deafening crash filled the room as splinters and stone shards flew in every direction. I threw up an arm to shield my face, instinctively backing away as the floor quaked beneath me.

Breaker wasn’t as lucky.

A towering mass of flesh barreled into him, a grotesque mess of limbs, muscle, and sinew. Its uneven arms—some human, others beastlike—swung in wild arcs. One meaty appendage struck Breaker square in the chest, lifting his enormous frame like a toy and slamming him into a wall.

“Breaker!” I shouted, panic lacing my voice.

He didn’t answer. His body slumped to the floor, motionless.

The creature turned toward me, its many mismatched eyes rolling in their sockets. Its head—if it could even be called that—was an unholy fusion of mouths and faces, each feature stretched and distorted as though screaming in eternal agony.

I fired without hesitation.

The first shot hit dead center, blowing a chunk of its torso away. Black ichor sprayed across the room, sizzling as it hit the floor.

The thing screamed—a horrible, multi-tonal sound that made my ears ring. It surged forward, its steps uneven but horrifyingly fast.

I fired again, aiming for what I hoped was a vital point. Another chunk of flesh blew free, but the creature barely slowed.

“1-2, what’s happening?” Reaper’s voice snapped through the comm.

“Big problem!” I shouted back, scrambling to keep my distance.

I fired a third time, but the creature swatted the shotgun aside with a grotesque limb. The weapon clattered across the room, spinning out of reach.

“Shit,” I hissed, drawing my sidearm.

Before I could fire, the amalgamation lunged. I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding its massive bulk as it crashed into the altar, reducing it to splinters.

The comm crackled. “Viper here. I’m on my way.”

“Hurry!” I gasped, my sidearm barking as I unloaded into the creature’s flailing limbs.

It roared again, turning toward me with disturbing speed. One of its arms lashed out, catching my leg and sending me sprawling. Pain shot through my shin as I hit the floor hard, my pistol skittering out of my grip.

The creature loomed over me, its patchwork mouths gaping wide, rows of jagged, mismatched teeth glinting in the dim light.

I scrambled backward, my hands slipping on the blood-slick floor. My gaze darted around frantically, searching for anything I could use.

The air crackled with energy as Viper appeared in the doorway, their form illuminated by faint arcs of violet lightning that danced along their arms. They moved like a storm given flesh, their twin daggers already in hand.

“Hold still, big guy,” they growled, hurling a bolt of energy at the creature.

The lightning struck its side, sending a jolt through its grotesque body. It spasmed, letting out a guttural shriek, and turned to face her.

“Tats, move!” Viper snapped, already closing the distance between themself and the monstrosity.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I scrambled to my feet, my leg screaming in protest, and dove for my shotgun. My fingers brushed the stock just as the creature swiped at me again, the massive limb barely missing as I rolled out of the way.

Viper darted around the amalgamation, their daggers flashing as they sliced through the fleshy tendrils sprouting from its back. Ichor sprayed, the acidic liquid hissing as it hit the floor, but they didn’t slow.

“Hit it from the side!” Viper shouted, dodging a massive swing from one of its oversized arms.

I brought the shotgun up and fired, aiming for the mass of eyes on its left flank. The blast tore through them, black fluid spraying like oil.

The creature screamed, its body lurching sideways as it swung at me blindly. I ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow, and fired again.

Viper pressed the attack, their movements precise and relentless. They drove one dagger deep into the amalgamation’s torso, the blade glowing faintly with violet energy. The creature spasmed violently, its roars echoing through the room.

“Now!” Viper shouted, wrenching the dagger free.

I aimed for the center of its mass and squeezed the trigger. The blast hit home, tearing through flesh and bone. The creature staggered, its massive body swaying as it let out one final, gurgling roar.

With a wet, thunderous crash, it collapsed to the floor, its limbs twitching spasmodically before finally going still.

The room fell silent, save for the ragged sound of my breathing.

Viper stepped back, wiping ichor from their daggers. They turned to me, their expression grim but calm. “You okay?”

I nodded, still catching my breath. “I’ll live. What about Breaker?”

They moved to where he’d fallen, crouching beside him. “He’s alive, but he’s going to need help. Whatever that thing hit him with… it wasn’t gentle.”

I leaned against the wall, my hands trembling slightly as I reloaded my shotgun. The room still reeked of blood and burnt flesh, the scent clinging to the back of my throat.

“Reaper,” I said into the comm. “The thing’s down, but we’ve got injuries. Basement’s still our target.”

There was a pause, and then 1-1’s voice crackled through. “Understood. I'll go grab him. Regroup if possible. Stay on mission.”

I glanced at Viper. They met my gaze, their eyes hard.

“Let’s move,” they said.

Viper pulled the basement door open, revealing a steep staircase descending into darkness. The stench from earlier hit me immediately, stronger now—a nauseating blend of rot and rusted metal.

“Ladies first,” Viper said with a faint smirk, stepping aside.

I rolled my eyes behind my visor. “How generous.”

The stairs creaked underfoot as I began my descent, shotgun raised and light flickering on to cut through the gloom. The walls were lined with runes that glowed faintly, their red hue pulsing like a weak heartbeat.

The deeper we went, the worse the air became. It wasn’t just the smell—it was the weight of the place, oppressive and unnatural, like the basement itself was watching me.

Halfway down, the runes flared brighter.

The hum started low, buzzing faintly at the edge of my hearing, but it rose quickly, becoming a sharp, painful whine.

“Ward—” I started to call, but the air snapped like a whip, and the ground gave way beneath me.

I hit the floor hard. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, and my shotgun clattered away into the darkness. Dust and debris rained down around me as the echoes of the collapse faded into a heavy, oppressive silence.

“1-2! Report!” Reaper’s voice snapped through the comm, cutting through my dazed state.

I coughed, forcing myself onto my knees. My ribs screamed in protest, but I ignored the pain. “Alive,” I gasped, blindly searching the ground until my hand found the cold steel of my shotgun. “Basement collapsed. No visual on Breaker.”

“Regroup immediately,” Reaper ordered. "Viper, hold the stairs."

“1-5,” I called. “Watcher, can you get visuals down here?”

“No drone signal,” Watcher replied, frustration creeping into his calm tone. “The wards are killing everything. I can’t see you.”

The realization settled like ice in my chest. I was on my own.

The shotgun’s light flicked on, its narrow beam cutting through the darkness. The basement stretched out before me like a gaping maw, its walls jagged and slick with moisture. Bones littered the floor, some crushed under the weight of fallen stones.

The runes on the walls pulsed faintly, their sickly light casting everything in a red haze. Chains hung from the ceiling, some swaying faintly as if moved by an invisible breeze.

The oppressive air pressed in on me, thick with the weight of old magic and something darker—something alive.

“1-2,” I whispered into the comm, though I doubted anyone could hear me. “Moving forward.”

I advanced slowly, every step careful and deliberate. The beam of my light swept left and right, revealing horrors that made my stomach churn. Bones were piled in corners, some still wrapped in the tattered remains of robes. Blood pooled in the cracks of the stone floor, dark and sticky.

The faint sound of movement caught my attention. A low scrape, followed by a faint rattling of chains.

I tightened my grip on the shotgun, my pulse hammering in my ears. The sound came again, louder this time. It was coming from beyond a set of iron doors at the far end of the chamber.

The doors were massive, etched with more of the glowing runes. They creaked as I pushed them open, the sound echoing through the cavernous space beyond.

My light fell on her.

She was chained to the wall, her skeletal form slumped as though she were barely alive. Blood-red hair hung in tangled, matted strands over her face, and her pale skin stretched tight over her bones.

For a moment, I thought she was dead.

Then her head lifted, and pink eyes like molten glass locked onto mine, squinting against the bright light entering her cell.

I froze.

The horns curling from her skull gleamed faintly in the light, black and glistening like polished onyx.

“Demon,” I whispered, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.

She let out a low, guttural growl, her lips twitching into something like a smile.

The chains rattled as she shifted slightly, her movements slow and deliberate, her pink eyes never leaving mine, tracking her prey.

The succubus moved before I could blink.

One second, she was slumped against the wall, her breath coming shallow and ragged. The next, her muscles tensed, and she surged forward—only to stop short. The chains around her wrists flared with crimson light, jerking her back violently.

Her snarl tore through the chamber, low and guttural, a sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Her claws scraped against the stone wall behind her as she strained against the bindings, her pink eyes locked onto me with an intensity that was equal parts hunger and fury.

The runes etched into the metal glowed brighter as she struggled, their jagged edges biting into her flesh. Each movement sent faint wisps of smoke curling into the air where the restraints burned against her skin.

“You’re stuck,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “There’s no point in fighting me.”

Her answer came as another guttural growl, her body twisting violently as she tried—and failed—to lunge. The magic anchoring her chains pulsed again, holding her limbs in place no matter how much she thrashed.

I took a cautious step closer, lowering my shotgun just enough to avoid escalating the situation. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to get you out of here.”

Her pink eyes narrowed, burning like molten glass. Her lips curled back, revealing sharp teeth, and she jerked again against the restraints. The chains rattled loudly, and for a moment, I thought she might snap them through sheer force of will.

But the magic held.

Her breathing grew harsher, each exhale trembling with barely contained desperation. The hunger in her gaze cut through the space between us, raw and overwhelming.

She was starving.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t just rage or instinct—this was survival.

“Okay,” I said softly, keeping my movements slow. “You need something. I get it.”

Her growl deepened, but the thrashing stopped. She was watching me now, her eyes flicking over my face, my weapon, my throat. The heat of her gaze was almost tangible, and I knew what she wanted.

My essence.

It wasn’t the first time I’d let someone feed on me, but the idea of offering it here, now, to a half-starved succubus chained to a wall, made my pulse race.

“Listen,” I said, crouching just out of her reach. “If I let you feed, you need to calm down. No fighting, no clawing, no biting. Just take what you need to stop the hunger. Can you do that?”

She didn’t answer, but her breathing slowed slightly. The tension in her shoulders remained, her claws still twitching faintly, but there was a flicker of understanding in her gaze.

I tilted my head, exposing the side of my neck where the runes etched into my skin glowed faintly. “Here. It’s easier this way, isn’t it?”

Her body went still, every muscle taut as if bracing for a trap. For a moment, I thought she might refuse—or worse, lash out again.

Then she leaned forward, as far as the chains would allow.

Her lips brushed against my neck, hesitant and trembling. The pull started faint, barely more than a whisper of energy leaving my body. My runes flared in response, their edges warming as the connection deepened.

The pull grew stronger.

My breath hitched, and I clenched my fists against the urge to jerk away. It wasn’t painful—more like someone tugging on invisible threads inside me, unraveling something I didn’t fully understand.

“Not too much,” I murmured, my voice strained. “Just enough.”

Her claws twitched against the chains, but she didn’t push further. The pull eased, the raw desperation in her movements softening as she fed. The glow in her pink eyes dimmed slightly, and for the first time since I’d found her, she looked... calmer.

When she finally pulled back, her breathing was steadier, though her gaze remained sharp and wary. Her claws flexed against the restraints, testing them again, but the fight seemed to have drained from her.

“Better?” I asked, leaning back slightly to put some distance between us.

She didn’t answer, but the faintest flicker of acknowledgment passed through her gaze.

I let out a slow breath, the weight of the moment settling over me like a lead blanket. The world tilted slightly as I stood, the effects of the feeding leaving me lightheaded.

“Good,” I muttered, steadying myself against the wall. “Now we can focus on getting you out of here.”

The basement was silent except for the soft clink of chains and the slow rasp of her breathing. The succubus watched me carefully, her pink eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. The fight had drained out of her, but the hunger lingered in her gaze, even as her body slumped against the wall.

I glanced toward the collapsed stairwell I’d tumbled through earlier. The air was still heavy with the residue of whatever ritual had summoned her, its sharp tang clinging to my senses. Comms weren’t going to work down here—the wards etched into the walls saw to that.

I needed to get back to the stairwell.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said softly, glancing back at the succubus. Her chains rattled faintly as she shifted her weight, testing the bindings again.

She didn’t snarl this time, but her claws twitched against the stone, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’ll be back,” I said, my tone firm. “Just... stay put.”

Her lips curled faintly, not quite a snarl but enough to remind me she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the situation.

With one last glance at her, I turned and headed toward the collapsed stairwell. The floorboards groaned under my boots as I picked my way through the debris, every step sending small clouds of dust into the stale air.

When I reached the base of the stairs, I tilted my head back and cupped my hands around my mouth.

“Viper!” I shouted, my voice echoing up the narrow shaft.

Silence.

I tried again, louder this time. “1-4, get your ass down here! I need you!”

For a moment, there was nothing but the faint creak of the structure around me. Then, distantly, I heard the sharp crack of footsteps on wood.

“Raku?” Viper’s voice called back, faint but unmistakable. “That you screaming like a banshee?”

“Who else?” I snapped, relief flooding through me despite my irritation. “I need help! The basement’s warded—comms are dead!”

A muffled curse echoed down the stairwell. “Hold tight, I’m coming!”

Viper appeared a few minutes later, dropping through the broken opening with the kind of careless grace that only they could pull off. Their twin daggers gleamed faintly in the low light, the violet energy along the blades casting flickering shadows against the walls.

“Nice place,” Viper said dryly, brushing dust off their pants. “Really cozy. You redecorating or something?”

“Glad you think this is funny,” I muttered, jerking my thumb toward the back of the room. “Got someone over there. Bound tight with runes I can’t break. Not our target, unfortunately.”

Viper’s dark eyes flicked past me, narrowing as they spotted the succubus. She hadn’t moved much, her skeletal frame still slumped against the wall. But as Viper approached, her pink eyes snapped to them, her claws flexing faintly against the restraints.

“Feisty little thing, isn’t she?” Viper muttered, stopping a few feet away. They tilted their head, studying her bindings. “Runic suppression. Old school. Nasty stuff.”

“Can you cut it?” I asked, stepping up beside them.

Viper smirked faintly, drawing their daggers. “I didn’t bring these for show, Tats.”

They crouched low, their blades crackling as they brought them close to the first chain. The runes on the metal flared angrily, but Viper didn’t flinch. With deliberate precision, they slid one blade along the edge of the binding, the energy sparking brightly as it met resistance.

“Hold still, sweetheart,” Viper muttered, glancing at the succubus. “This might sting a little.”

She growled softly, her tail twitching against the floor, but she didn’t thrash.

The first chain snapped with a sharp crack, the runes fading into nothing as the metal fell away. The succubus jerked slightly, her breath hitching as the restraint released.

“One down,” Viper said, flashing me a grin. “See? Easy.”

“Just keep going,” I said, keeping a wary eye on the succubus.

Viper worked quickly, their movements smooth and precise. Each chain fell with a sharp crack, the oppressive weight of the magic in the room lifting slightly with every release.

By the time the last restraint fell, the succubus was sagging against the wall, her limbs trembling as if the loss of the bindings had sapped the last of her strength.

“She’s free,” Viper said, standing and sheathing their daggers. “But she’s not walking out of here on her own.”

“I’ve got her,” I said, stepping forward.

The succubus flinched as I crouched beside her, her pink eyes narrowing in warning. I held up my hands, keeping my movements slow.

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “We’re getting you out of here. No more chains, no more bindings. Just trust me.”

She hesitated, her claws twitching faintly. Then, she lunged at me, collapsing halfway through the attempt. I flinched backwards, falling on my ass. My eyes fell to Viper. "Not. A. Word.", I said through clenched teeth. They just give me their telltale smirk, instead saying "Poor girl is out cold. Guess that makes extraction easier, at least."

My eyes returned to the unconscious succubus on the ground before me, one of her hands barely touching my leg. I frown and gently lift her.

Her body was alarmingly light, her skeletal frame barely registering as a weight in my arms as I turned towards the stairwell.

“Let’s move,” I said, nodding to Viper.

They grinned faintly, gesturing toward the exit. “After you, hero.”

The extraction point was chaos.

The transport helicopter roared overhead, its rotors cutting through the air in deafening waves. Dust and debris whipped around us as we sprinted across the clearing. Viper stayed close behind me, their daggers back in their sheaths but their stance wary.

The succubus stirred faintly in my arms, her skeletal frame trembling as the noise and motion registered. She wasn’t awake—not fully—but the growl rumbling from her throat made it clear she wasn’t entirely out either.

“Stay with me,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. The ground beneath my boots felt uneven, and the ache in my arms was starting to creep in. She was light, but exhaustion was clawing at the edges of my focus.

“Pick it up, Tats!” Viper shouted over the din, motioning toward the open ramp of the helicopter. The rest of the squad was already aboard, their weapons trained on the tree line.

“Watch the perimeter!” Reaper’s voice boomed from inside the cabin. His hulking frame stood near the edge of the ramp, one hand gripping the overhead railing as he barked orders.

I pushed harder, my legs burning as I closed the gap. Viper vaulted ahead, reaching the ramp first and turning back to cover me.

“You good?” they asked, their voice sharp but laced with concern.

“Just keep them off me,” I snapped, my breath coming in short gasps.

The ramp groaned beneath my boots as I stepped onto the helicopter, the vibrations from the rotors rattling through my body. Breaker lay on a stretcher near the back, his chest rising and falling steadily but his face pale. Watcher was perched beside him, its mismatched eyes glowing faintly as it monitored his vitals.

“Get her secured,” Reaper ordered, motioning toward an open seat. “We’re lifting in thirty seconds!”

I nodded, setting the succubus down against the wall. She slumped heavily, her head lolling to one side. Her breathing was shallow, her pink eyes flickering faintly as if caught between waking and unconsciousness.

“Is she out?” Viper asked, leaning over my shoulder.

“For now,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow. “But I don’t think it’s going to last.”

The helicopter jerked as it lifted off, the ground falling away beneath us. The sudden motion sent the succubus lurching forward slightly, her claws twitching as her eyes snapped open.

And then the panic set in.

The helicopter banked slightly, sending a fresh jolt through the cabin. The succubus whimpered faintly, curling against the wall. Her claws scraped against the metal floor, trembling as if she didn’t know whether to lash out or flee.

“Hey, hey,” I said, raising my hands in what I hoped was a calming gesture. “You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Her pink eyes locked onto me, sharp and distrustful. The hunger in them was muted, but it was still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“Tats,” Reaper said sharply, his hand resting on his rifle. “If she loses it, she’s going down.”

“She’s not losing it,” I snapped without looking back. “Just give me a minute.”

Viper crouched beside me, their dark eyes flicking between the succubus and me. “She needs to eat,” they said, their voice softer than usual. “That’s the only thing that’s going to calm her down right now.”

“I know,” I muttered, swallowing hard. “I just don’t want to push her over the edge.”

“You’ve got this,” Viper said, their tone almost encouraging. “Just don’t pass out on me, hero.”

I gave them a sharp look but turned back to the succubus. Her breathing was erratic, her claws twitching as her gaze darted from me to the open ramp and back. She was teetering on the edge, caught between panic and survival.

“Okay,” I said softly, tilting my head to expose my forearm this time, the runes etched there glowing faintly in the dim light. “Here. It’s safer this way, isn’t it?”

Her eyes narrowed, her claws scraping faintly against the floor. Slowly, cautiously, she leaned closer, her breath warm against my skin.

The first touch was tentative—more a brush of her lips than anything else, afraid I might deny her still. The pull started faint, almost like static electricity, before deepening into a steady tug. It wasn’t as intense as before, but it wasn’t gentle either.

My runes flared in response, the energy flowing into her like water finding a crack in stone. My arm felt heavy, as though her feeding drew not just from my essence but from my very limbs.

I gritted my teeth, steadying myself with my free hand against the floor. “Not too much,” I murmured, my voice strained.

She didn’t growl this time, didn’t thrash or pull harder. Her breathing evened out, and the trembling in her claws began to ease.

“Keep her steady,” Viper said, their voice low.

I nodded faintly, my focus locked on the succubus.

Viper reached out, their hands gentle but deliberate as they grasped the remains of the cuffs still dangling from the succubus’ wrists. The broken chains jingled softly as Viper inspected them, their sharp eyes narrowing.

“These are useless now,” they muttered. “Let’s get rid of them.”

The succubus flinched slightly at the contact, her claws twitching, but she didn’t pull away. Her focus remained on my arm, the glow in her eyes softening as she fed.

Viper worked quickly, snapping the rusted metal with precise, magic empowered movements. The jagged edges fell away one by one, clattering to the floor as they freed her wrists and ankles.

“There,” they said, sitting back on their heels. “No more chains.”

I glanced at Viper, nodding in silent thanks before turning my attention back to the succubus. The pull began to ebb, her grip on my arm loosening as she drew back slightly.

Her pink eyes met mine, and for the first time, there was no hostility in them. Just exhaustion—and something that might have been gratitude.

“That’s enough,” I said softly, pulling my arm back.

She didn’t fight me. Instead, she slumped against the wall, her claws resting limply in her lap.

“See?” Viper said, leaning back with a faint grin. “Told you you’d survive.”

I shot them a tired glare. “Barely.”

Reaper cleared his throat, his sharp gaze flicking between the three of us. “She under control?”

“She’s fine,” I said, glancing at the succubus again. “Aren’t you?”

She didn’t respond, but the tension in her body had melted away. Her breathing was steady now, her head tilted slightly as she watched me with half-lidded eyes.

“She’s fine,” I repeated, more for Reaper’s benefit than anyone else.

“Good,” he muttered, turning toward the ramp as the helicopter began its descent. Viper smirked faintly, crossing their arms as they leaned against the wall.

“You’ve got a way with strays, Tats,” they said.

“Shut up,” I muttered, too drained to argue.

The helicopter touched down moments later, its skids kicking up another cloud of dust as the engines began to wind down.

“Move out!” Reaper barked, motioning for the rest of the squad to disembark.

The others filed out quickly, their weapons still at the ready. I stayed behind, crouching beside the succubus as she curled against the wall.

“You go ahead,” I said, waving them off. “I’ll catch up.”

Reaper hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and her. “You’ve got five minutes. Then we’re sending someone in.”

“Understood,” I said, watching as the squad disappeared into the facility.

The succubus shifted slightly, her pink eyes flicking toward the open ramp. Her claws twitched, but she didn’t growl.

“We’re here,” I said softly. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before she let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing slightly.

For now, at least, the fight was over. With a little luck, the following medical checkup wouldn't be too stressful for her.

The hallway lights were blindingly bright, so stark they seemed to strip the air of warmth. They buzzed faintly, an electric hum that set my teeth on edge, though not as much as the silence between footsteps. The succubus lagged half a step behind me, her hooves clicking on the ground, her steps hesitant.

I glanced back to check on her. She wasn’t looking at me—her pink eyes darted to every corner of the corridor, her pupils narrow and sharp. Her tail whipped behind her in jerky, anxious movements, her claws flexing as though she were preparing to fight. Her breathing was shallow, but her expression was fierce, defiant. She looked like she was holding herself together by a thread, and the thread was fraying fast.

“Almost there,” I said softly, my voice barely carrying over the sterile hum of the hallway. She didn’t respond, but her tail snapped against the wall with a loud crack that made the tech ahead of us flinch.

“You’re sure about this?” the medic asked as we reached the door to the medbay. He turned, his clipboard tucked under one arm, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between me and her. “Because most people would’ve just walked away.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not most people,” I said, my voice tight. “Let’s just get this done.”

The med bay hummed with the quiet efficiency of people who had done this a million times before. Like out in the hall, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, washing the room in sterile white. Everything smelled like antiseptic—a sharp, almost biting tang that clung to my nostrils.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the medical team circle the succubus like vultures. She sat on the padded exam table, her wrists and ankles loosely cuffed to keep her from bolting. Not that she had the strength to try—her skeletal frame and glazed pink eyes told me that much.

She hadn’t stopped trembling since we’d brought her in.

Her crimson hair hung in matted, filthy strands over her face, and her pink eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal’s, never lingering on one thing for too long. The horns curving from her head were the only part of her that seemed unyielding.

“You’re sure it’s alive?” one of the medics muttered to his colleague, squinting at the gaunt figure slumped before them.

“She’s breathing, isn’t she?” one of the medics said, squinting at her gaunt figure like she was a fascinating specimen.

“Barely,” his colleague replied, leaning in with a penlight. The bright beam flashed across her eyes, and she flinched violently, letting out a low, guttural growl.

“Careful,” I warned from my spot by the wall.

Both medics jumped, as if realizing for the first time that I was still there. One of them straightened, his tablet clutched to his chest. “Of course. We’re just running basic diagnostics. Nothing invasive.”

The examination was grueling, even with the medic and techs working quickly.

They scanned her body with handheld devices, cataloging every scar, every burn, every jagged rune carved into her flesh. She flinched at every touch, her claws twitching against her cuffs, her tail lashing intermittently against the cot.

“She’s been through a lot,” one of the techs muttered, their voice soft. “These sigils... they’re not all summoning runes. Some are for control. They were carving commands into her.”

“She’s been starved for weeks,” another added. “Both physically and emotionally. I’m surprised she hasn’t collapsed.”

“She’s surviving,” I said sharply. “That’s what matters.”

The medic frowned, gesturing toward the stumps where her wings had been severed. “Not unscathed. These are bad. Whoever did this wasn’t just trying to hurt her—they were trying to punish, maybe even destroy her.”

My chest tightened as I glanced at her back. The wounds were raw and jagged, the skin around them swollen and angry. Her breathing hitched as the medic reached for the stumps, her tail snapping hard against the cot.

“Don’t,” I said quickly, stepping forward. I placed a hand on her arm, meeting her gaze. “You’re okay. They’re just looking.”

Her pink eyes locked on mine, wary and distrustful, but she didn’t pull away.

“Make it fast,” I said, turning back to the medic. “She’s had enough.”

“We’re doing our best,” the medic continued, his tone defensive. “But there’s only so much we can do here. Succubi aren’t exactly considered people under the law. We’re obligated to find a handler for her, and considering you brought her in…”

“What do you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“You brought her in,” the other medic said with a shrug. “So she’s yours to handle. She needs regular feeding and monitoring, and without that, she’ll die. If you’re not up for it, we can put her down—”

“No.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. Both medics flinched.

The one with the tablet held up his hands. “Hey, just stating the options. But since you’re taking responsibility, we’ll process the paperwork for you to fill out. In the meantime, she needs to be cleaned up. She’s, uh...” He wrinkled his nose. “Ripe.”

“Be careful with her,” I said firmly.

The medics didn’t answer. Instead, they moved to undo her cuffs, and the second they touched her restraints, the succubus exploded into motion. She lunged forward as much as the cuffs allowed, baring her teeth and letting out a feral snarl that echoed through the med bay.

“Easy, easy,” one of them said, raising his hands as if calming a cornered dog.

She didn’t calm. Her pink eyes flared with panic, and her breathing grew ragged as she tried to press herself further into the table, away from their hands. Her growling deepened into something guttural, almost primal.

The other medic sighed. “She’s not going to cooperate. Just hose her down.”

My stomach turned. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s standard procedure for hostile non-humans,” the medic said with a shrug. “She’s more animal than person right now. This isn’t exactly new territory for us.”

“She’s not an animal,” I said, stepping forward.

“She’s not cooperating,” he shot back.

“Back off,” I snapped, my voice echoing off the walls.

The medics hesitated, glancing at each other. When I didn’t move, they relented, stepping aside with muttered complaints.

I approached the succubus cautiously, keeping my hands visible. Her growling softened slightly, but her claws twitched at her sides, and her pink eyes tracked my every movement.

“Hey,” I said softly, keeping my voice low. “It’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Her pink eyes darted to mine, sharp and mistrustful.

“I’m going to take these off,” I said, gesturing to the cuffs. “Slowly.”

Her growling softened slightly, though her posture remained rigid.

One by one, I undid the restraints, letting the cuffs clatter to the floor. The moment she was free, she curled into herself, pressing her back against the exam table like a cornered animal.

“You’re okay,” I murmured, holding out a hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Just you and me. No restraints, no medics. Promise.”

Her gaze flicked to the door, then back to me. Slowly, she slid off the table, her knees buckling under her weight. I caught her before she hit the floor, her skin cold and clammy against mine.

“Take your time,” I said, steadying her.

The walk to the showers was even slower than I expected.

Every step was an ordeal for her, her thin legs trembling under the effort. She clung to my arm like a lifeline, her claws digging into my sleeve with surprising strength. Her head hung low, her shoulders hunched, and every sound in the facility made her flinch.

The shower room was quieter, the light softer, the air thick with steam. It was a relief after the clinical harshness of the medbay, though her tension lingered like a shadow. She hovered in the doorway, her hooves clicking faintly against the tile as she shifted her weight. Her claws flexed against her cuffs, and her pink eyes darted toward the stream of water hissing from the showerhead.

“It’s just water,” I said gently, turning to face her. “Warm, gentle. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Her tail flicked behind her, brushing lightly against the frame of the door. She sniffed the air, her nose wrinkling slightly, but she didn’t move closer.

“It’ll help,” I added, stepping aside so she could see the water cascading over the tiles. “You’ll feel better once you’re clean.”

She didn’t respond, but her claws stopped flexing. Her gaze lingered on the water, cautious and calculating, as though trying to decipher some hidden threat. Then, slowly, she took a step forward, her hooves clicking against the tile with a faint metallic ring.

When the spray hit her arm, she flinched violently, letting out a sharp, guttural snarl. Her claws snapped upward, slashing at the air, but there was nothing to fight.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said quickly, holding up my hands. “It’s just water. See?”

I stepped under the stream, letting the warm water soak into my clothes. The fabric clung uncomfortably to my skin, but I stayed where I was, turning slightly to show her the water running over my arms.

“See?” I said again. “It’s safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

She stared at me, her pink eyes narrowing. Then, cautiously, she extended her arm into the stream. Her claws twitched as the water trickled over her skin, and her tail lashed once, but she didn’t pull back.

“That’s it,” I murmured, stepping aside to give her more space. “You’re doing great.”

She stepped fully under the water, her body trembling as the warmth seeped into her skin. Her hair, matted and tangled, darkened under the spray, clinging to her shoulders. The water streamed over her scars, tracing the jagged lines of the runes carved into her flesh, and for a moment, she just stood there, her breathing slow and uneven.

I grabbed the soap, lathering it carefully in my hands. “Can I help?” I asked softly. “Just to get the worst of it?”

Her gaze flicked to me, sharp and wary. For a moment, I thought she might lash out again, but she didn’t. She stayed where she was, her claws curling slightly as if bracing herself.

I started with her arms, working slowly and gently. Her skin was rough beneath my fingers, the scars raised and uneven, the runes gleaming faintly as the soap washed over them. When I reached her shoulders, she flinched, her tail snapping against the wall.

“You can tell me to stop,” I said quietly. “If you want me to stop, just pull away.”

She didn’t move, though the tension in her body remained. I continued carefully, avoiding the raw, jagged stumps where her wings had been severed. The sight of them made my chest tighten, but I kept my expression neutral.

“You’re safe,” I murmured, rinsing the soap away. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

I moved to her hair next, running water through the matted strands until they began to loosen. The tangles were stubborn, and every pull made her flinch and bare her teeth.

“Sorry,” I said softly. “I know it hurts.”

She growled faintly, a sound that might have been agreement.

“Almost done,” I promised, rinsing the last of the soap from her hair. The deep red strands gleamed faintly in the light, their natural luster starting to return.

I stepped back to let her stand fully under the spray, the water cascading over her face and shoulders. She tilted her head back slightly, her pink eyes closing as if savoring the sensation.

For a moment, the tension in her body melted away, her rigid posture softening.

Then I turned off the water, and she tensed immediately, her claws scraping against the tiled wall.

“Easy,” I said, holding up a hand. “We’re done. See? All clean.”

She blinked at me, water dripping from her hair and horns. Her lips parted slightly, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. There was barely a shift in her posture before she lunged.

Her claws raked over my skin, her breath hot and ragged against my neck. Her movements were frantic, her hands clumsy as they clutched at my chest, trying to pull me closer.

“Hey,” I said, catching her wrists gently but firmly. “What are you doing?”

She growled softly, twisting against my grip, her claws scraping faintly against my skin. Her pink eyes burned with desperation, and I could feel the hunger radiating off her in waves. It was raw, primal, and overwhelming. She pressed closer, her movements growing more frantic, and I knew she wasn’t going to stop on her own as her hands fumbled with my waistband.

“Okay,” I said softly, tilting my head to expose the curve of my neck. “Not like that. Here. I know you can feed on my energy reserves as well.”

Her movements stilled and her gaze flicked to my neck, the glow in her eyes flickering faintly. She hesitated, her breath warm against my skin, before leaning in.

Her lips brushed my neck, soft and trembling. The pull was faint at first, a gentle tug that sent a shiver down my spine. My runes flared faintly in response, their edges warming under her touch. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, but it left me lightheaded, as though she were unraveling something deep inside me, thread by thread.

Her claws rested lightly against my arms now, her grip no longer frantic but steady. Her breathing slowed, the desperation easing as she fed.

“That’s enough,” I murmured after a moment when I started getting light-headed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay now.”

She pulled back slowly, her lips parting from my neck with a soft, shuddering sigh. Her pink eyes met mine, the glow dimmer now but still intense. There was no trust there, not yet, but there was something else. Recognition, perhaps. Fragile understanding.

“You did great,” I said softly, guiding her out of the stream. “Let’s get you dry.”

I draped the towel over her shoulders, careful not to move too quickly. She flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away, her claws twitching as I patted her hair dry.

The silence stretched as I worked, broken only by the faint rustle of the towel and her uneven breathing.

When I finished, I stood in front of her, meeting her wary gaze. “Better?” I asked softly.

She didn’t answer, but her posture relaxed slightly, her claws retracting as she clutched the towel around herself.

As I reached to help with the towel, she flinched again, her claws twitching instinctively.

“It's okay” I said, stepping back to give her space. “You can do the rest yourself if you want.”

She stared at the towel around her shoulders for a long moment, her pink eyes flicking between it and me. Then, with a slow, almost mechanical motion, she retreated to the far wall.

I didn’t move, letting her work through the motions at her own pace. Her clawed hands gripped the towel awkwardly as she tried to dry herself, the fabric catching on the ridges of her horns and the jagged edges of her talons. She growled softly under her breath, her frustration palpable.

After a few minutes of fumbling, she froze, her claws flexing against the towel. Her gaze snapped to me, sharp and accusatory, as if daring me to step closer.

“Take your time,” I said, backing toward the door. “I’ll wait outside.”

The growling eased slightly as I put my shirt back on and stepped into the hallway, the door sliding shut behind me. I leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly.

She wasn’t just feral—she was terrified. Every movement, every sound seemed to set her on edge, her instincts screaming for fight or flight. And yet, beneath all that, there was something else.

She hadn’t lashed out badly. She could’ve, but she didn’t.

That had to count for something.

I gave her a few minutes before knocking lightly on the door. “You okay in there?”

No answer.

“Can I come in?”

There was a faint scraping sound, followed by a low huff. I took that as permission and stepped inside.

She was huddled in the corner, the towel draped over her shoulders like a makeshift cloak. Her hooves clattered softly against the tile as she shifted, her pink eyes glaring at me from beneath damp strands of crimson hair.

“Better?” I asked, crouching to meet her gaze.

Her lips curled slightly, not quite a snarl but close. She didn’t answer, but the tension in her shoulders seemed less pronounced.

“Good,” I said, standing. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, and get you something to wear as well.”

She hesitated as I gestured toward the door, her claws gripping the edge of the towel. For a moment, her pink eyes narrowed, darting between me and the hallway beyond.

“It’s safe,” I said gently. “Just me and you. No one else. I promise.”

Her claws twitched, the faint scraping sound of their tips against the towel filling the silence. Slowly, she stepped forward, her hooves clicking softly against the tile as she followed me out of the shower room.

The hallways were quieter now, the usual bustle of the facility winding down as the evening shift took over. The hum of distant machinery filled the silence, punctuated only by the soft clink of her hooves against the tile as we walked. The few people we passed gave us curious looks, their gazes lingering just a second too long, but no one said anything.

The succubus stayed close to my side, her claws brushing against my arm every so often as if to make sure I was still there. Her pink eyes darted to every shadow, her tail swishing behind her in sharp, nervous arcs. Every sound made her flinch, her steps faltering before she quickly caught up again.

When we reached my quarters, I keyed the door open and stepped inside, gesturing for her to follow. She stopped in the doorway, her pink eyes narrowing as she scanned the room with the wariness of someone expecting a trap. Her claws flexed against her palms, and her tail lashed sharply against the frame.

“It’s safe,” I said, stepping further inside to give her space. “No one else is coming in.”

She tilted her head, the faint glow in her eyes flickering as she glanced from the narrow bed to the desk, then back to me. She stayed where she was, her hooves clicking softly as she shifted her weight.

The door hissed shut behind her, and she flinched, spinning to face it with a low growl.

“It’s just the door,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “It’s automatic. No one’s coming in unless I let them.”

Her growling didn’t stop immediately, but it softened as she turned back toward the room. The tension in her posture didn’t ease, though—her claws remained half-raised, her body coiled tight as if ready to spring at the slightest provocation.

The room was small and bare, like most quarters in the facility. A narrow bed was pushed against one wall, its blanket neatly tucked. A metal storage locker sat in the corner, and a small desk with a chair occupied the opposite side of the room. No personal touches, no decorations—just the essentials.

“It’s not fancy,” I said, crossing to the storage locker. “But it’s quiet. And it’s private.”

She didn’t respond, her pink eyes fixed on the bed like it was some kind of alien object. Her tail flicked sharply again, brushing against the wall.

I pulled out a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up for her to see. “These probably won’t fit great,” I admitted, setting them on the bed. “But it’s better than nothing.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression flickering between suspicion and curiosity. Her claws twitched faintly as she took a small, cautious step toward the bed.

“Go ahead,” I said, moving back toward the desk to give her room. “They’re for you.”

Her hooves clicked softly against the floor as she approached the bed. She crouched low, her claws brushing the fabric of the clothes before pulling back sharply as though they might bite her. Her pink eyes darted toward me, sharp and accusatory.

“They won’t hurt you,” I said, resting my elbows on my knees. “You can change here. I won’t look.”

Her glare deepened, her her tail thumping against the floor, and for a moment, I thought she might lash out. Instead, she let out a sharp huff and snatched the shirt, retreating to the far corner of the room with quick, jerky movements.

I turned my gaze to the desk, keeping my back to her. The rustling of fabric and occasional frustrated growls told me she was struggling, but I didn’t interfere. Letting her figure it out on her own felt like the right call—forcing help on her now would only make things worse.

When the noises stopped, I glanced over my shoulder. She stood near the corner, the oversized shirt hanging awkwardly off her thin frame, the sweatpants bunched around her ankles. The towel was still draped over her shoulders like a cloak, her claws clutching it tightly. Her pink eyes glared at me, daring me to comment.

“You look fine,” I said simply, turning back to the desk.

She didn’t respond, but the tension in her shoulders eased by the smallest fraction. She shifted slightly, her hooves clinking against the floor as she adjusted the towel.

“You can stay here,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “The bed’s yours if you want it.”

Her gaze flicked toward the bed, then back to me. She didn’t move, her claws digging into the fabric of the towel.

“I know you don’t trust me,” I added softly. “That’s okay. But no one else is coming in here. This is your space too now.”

Her pink eyes lingered on me for a moment before drifting back to the bed. She edged closer to it slowly, her tail swishing low against the floor. When she reached the edge, she crouched again, sniffing the mattress cautiously.

“It’s safe,” I murmured. “I promise.”

She didn’t respond, but after a long pause, she pulled herself onto the bed. She didn’t lie down, but she curled her legs beneath her and draped the towel tightly around her shoulders, her claws digging lightly into the blanket.

The small motion of her settling on the bed felt like progress, even if her posture remained tense. Her pink eyes scanned the room again, sharp and searching, but the wildness that had burned in them earlier had dimmed.

“It’s a start,” I said softly to myself, leaning back in the chair.

She didn’t react, but the way her claws loosened slightly against the blanket told me she’d heard. Her breathing, though still uneven, slowed just a little as she adjusted the towel around her shoulders, her tail swishing quietly on the blanket beneath her.

For a few minutes, I stayed silent, letting the quiet stretch between us. The hum of the ventilation system filled the room, a faint, steady rhythm that felt more like white noise than an intrusion. She stayed perched on the edge of the bed, her tail curling loosely around one leg, her pink eyes occasionally flicking toward me.

“You don’t have to sleep if you’re not ready,” I said, breaking the silence gently. “But you can rest. No one’s going to bother you.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before shifting toward the floor. Her claws flexed faintly, curling and uncurling, but she didn’t move.

Time stretched, but the tension in the room didn’t dissipate completely. I could see her watching every small movement I made, her pink eyes sharp and unyielding. When I leaned forward slightly, reaching for the storage locker, her claws tensed, digging into the fabric of the blanket.

“You’re probably hungry,” I said softly, keeping my movements slow. “I’ll grab something to eat. Just food, okay?”

Her tail flicked once, sharply, as if to remind me she was still on edge. But she didn’t growl this time, and she didn’t bolt when I opened the locker.

Inside was the usual fare—rations that were more functional than appetizing. I grabbed a bar, tearing it open as I returned to the desk.

“This isn’t much,” I said, holding it up for her to see. “But it’ll help. Watch.”

I bit off a piece, chewing deliberately before setting the bar on the desk in clear view. “See? It’s safe.”

Her pink eyes flicked to the bar, then back to me. She didn’t move, but her claws flexed against the blanket, betraying her internal struggle.

“You don’t have to take it,” I said. “But it’s here if you want it.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with uncertainty. I stayed still, letting her make the decision on her own. She shifted slightly, her hooves clicking softly against the floor as she adjusted her position. Her gaze darted back to the bar, lingering this time.

When she finally moved, it was with a predator’s caution. She uncurled from the bed, her claws brushing against the mattress as she stretched her legs forward. Her tail swayed low, close to the floor, as she leaned toward the desk. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as though testing the boundaries of what I’d allow.

I didn’t move. I barely even breathed.

Her claws hovered over the bar for a long moment before she snatched it, retreating to the bed in a single, fluid motion. She tore into the ration with sharp, jerky movements, her pink eyes darting toward me every few seconds as she ate.

“Good,” I murmured. “See? It’s just food.”

She didn’t respond, but the way she finished it quickly, licking the crumbs from her claws, told me she needed it more than she’d admit.

“You’ll need more than that,” I said. “But it’s a start.”

She curled back onto the bed, the towel shifting slightly as she settled into the blanket. Her claws flexed faintly, but her posture was looser now, her movements less rigid. The glow in her pink eyes dimmed slightly as she glanced at me, her expression guarded but less hostile.

The hours passed slowly. She didn’t speak, didn’t move much, but her breathing eventually evened out, the tension in her frame softening bit by bit. She stayed perched on the edge of the bed, her tail draped across her legs, her claws resting lightly against the blanket. Her pink eyes remained half-lidded, scanning the room intermittently, but the wild edge was gone.

I stayed in the chair, my muscles aching from the day’s strain but unwilling to leave her unsupervised. Every now and then, she shifted, her ears twitching faintly at the sound of footsteps in the hallway or the distant clang of boots on metal.

“It’s not much,” I said softly, breaking the quiet. “But it’s better than the medbay.”

She didn’t answer, but the way her tail swayed faintly told me she’d heard.

I let out a quiet sigh, leaning back. “Tomorrow, we’ll figure out something better. Somewhere safer. But tonight, you can stay here.”

Her pink eyes flicked toward me, sharp and assessing. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t look away either.

Eventually, she settled fully into the bed, her small frame curling under the blanket as her breathing slowed. Her claws stopped fidgeting, and her tail stilled, curling loosely around one leg. She didn’t fall asleep—not completely—but the tension in her body eased enough to let me believe she was close.

For a long time, I just watched her, my own exhaustion pressing heavily against my chest. The small clock on the wall ticked past midnight, the quiet rhythm merging with the faint hum of the ventilation system.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. There were still questions to answer—about her, about what she needed, about how to help her survive in a world that saw her as little more than a tool. But those questions could wait. For now, she was here. She was safe.

That was enough.

I leaned back in the chair, letting my eyes drift shut. Sleep crept in slowly, dragging me under despite the ache in my back and the weight in my thoughts.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was something.

The rest of the night passed in uneasy quiet.

She stayed curled up in the corner of the bed, her thin frame hidden beneath the folds of the blanket. Every so often, her claws would twitch or scrape faintly against the fabric, her hooves shifting against the mattress as if she were ready to bolt.

I stayed in the chair, leaning back just enough to relax without dozing off completely. Sleep came in fits and starts, broken by flashes of fragmented dreams—shadows darting through the basement, the metallic tang of blood in the air, the glowing pink of her eyes cutting through the dark.

Each time I stirred awake, I glanced toward the bed to check if she was still there. She always was, her breathing even but shallow, her body coiled as if ready to spring at the slightest sound.

Despite the tension, the hours slipped by. Eventually, the dull hum of the ventilation system and the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing lulled me into a deeper sleep.

The pounding on the door jolted me awake.

I shot upright in the chair, my heart racing as the sound reverberated through the small room. For a disoriented moment, I thought we were under attack. My hand instinctively went to the knife strapped to my thigh, my muscles tensing.

“Tats!” a voice bellowed from the other side of the door. “Wake up! Breakfast!”

My stomach twisted, the tension in my body shifting from fight-or-flight to weary irritation.

Before I could respond, I heard movement behind me—a sharp, panicked rustle of fabric, followed by the scrape of claws against metal.

I turned quickly to see her scrambling backward on the bed, the blanket falling away as she pressed herself into the corner of the room. Her pink eyes were wide and wild, darting frantically between me and the door.

“It’s okay,” I said immediately, raising my hands in a calming gesture. “It’s just the door. It’s someone outside.”

Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her claws flexing against the wall. A low growl rumbled from her throat, and her horns dipped slightly as if she was bracing for an attack.

The banging came again, louder this time. “Tats! You alive in there?”

She snarled, the sound sharp and guttural, and her claws scraped against the wall, leaving faint marks in the metal.

“Hey, look at me,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady. “It’s fine. No one’s coming in. I’ve got this.”

She didn’t relax. Her hooves scraped against the bed as she shifted, her posture rigid and defensive.

I stood slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’ll handle it,” I said softly. “Just stay here. You’re safe.”

She didn’t respond, her glowing pink eyes fixed on the door as another loud knock rang through the room.

Crossing the small space quickly, I planted myself in front of the door and pressed the panel to open it.

The hallway light spilled in, glaring and bright after the dim confines of the room.

Reaper stood on the other side, his hulking frame filling the doorway. His casual clothes—a worn T-shirt and cargo pants—looked almost comically mundane on him, though the perpetual scowl on his face undercut any semblance of normalcy.

“Finally,” he grunted, crossing his arms. “You sleep through alarms now?”

I glanced back into the room. She was still crouched in the corner, her claws gripping the wall and her pink eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“She’s still in there?” Reaper asked, craning his neck to get a better look.

“She’s fine,” I said quickly, stepping into the doorway to block his view.

“Doesn’t look fine,” he muttered.

“I’ve got it under control,” I said flatly.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Breakfast in fifteen. Got some news for us all.”

“I’ll be there,” I said, my tone clipped.

Reaper leaned slightly to one side, his gaze darting past me. “You sure you’re okay in there? She looks ready to rip someone’s face off.”

“She’s just scared,” I said. “And I’ve got it handled.”

Reaper frowned but didn’t argue. “Your call. Just don’t let her eat you or something.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I said dryly.

He smirked faintly before turning and walking down the hallway, his boots clanging against the tiles.

I let out a slow breath, turning back toward the room.

The door slid shut behind me with a faint hiss, and I immediately heard her growl again.

“Hey,” I said, turning to face her. “It’s okay. He’s gone. No one’s coming in.”

She didn’t relax. Her claws flexed against the wall, and her breathing remained rapid and shallow.

I approached slowly, keeping my hands visible. “You’re safe,” I said softly. “It was just a friend. He’s not a threat.”

Her pink eyes snapped to me, sharp and wary. She didn’t move from the corner, her body still coiled like a spring.

“Listen,” I said, crouching a few feet away. “I know it’s loud here. I know it’s... different. But you’re not in danger. Not here.”

Her growling quieted slightly, though the tension in her posture didn’t ease.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” I continued. “I promise.”

Her claws twitched against the wall, leaving faint scratches in the metal.

I stayed where I was, letting the silence stretch between us. Slowly, her breathing began to slow, the wild edge in her eyes softening just enough to tell me she was starting to believe me.

“That’s it,” I murmured. “You’re okay.”

She shifted slightly, her claws retracting as she pulled the blanket around her shoulders again. Her pink eyes remained fixed on me, cautious but less frantic.

“I have to go soon,” I said gently. “Just for a little while. But I’ll be back. You don’t have to leave this room. No one else will come in.”

Her head tilted slightly, her expression skeptical.

“I’ll bring you food,” I added. “Something real. Not those awful ration bars. Sound good?”

She didn’t respond, but her posture relaxed a fraction.

I stood slowly, watching her carefully. “I’ll be quick,” I said. “You’re safe here.”

Her claws gripped the blanket tightly, but she didn’t move as I turned toward the door. The hallway felt colder as I stepped out, the door hissing shut behind me.

Leaning against the wall for a moment, I exhaled slowly.

She wasn’t just scared—she was traumatized. The noise, the strangers, the unfamiliar environment... it was too much for her.

She needed somewhere quieter, somewhere calmer. My apartment wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it was private. I’d have to get her there soon—after breakfast, if I could manage it.

For now, though, the most I could do was make sure she had space to breathe.

Pushing off the wall, I headed toward the mess hall.

The mess hall was alive with the usual chaos—mercenaries laughing too loudly, boots scraping against the floor, the clatter of plates and mugs adding to the noise. The harsh fluorescent lights cast the room in a sterile glow, making the gray metal walls seem even more lifeless.

I made my way through the crowd, weaving past tables piled with trays of food and gear. The air was thick with the scent of something fried and overcooked, though my stomach growled despite the less-than-appetizing aroma.

Our squad had taken up a table near the far wall, tucked into a corner where they could keep an eye on the room. Reaper was seated at the head, datapad in hand, his sharp gaze darting between the screen and the rest of the table. Viper was beside him, their mohawk catching the light as they toyed with one of their daggers, flipping it idly between their fingers.

Watcher sat at the opposite end, a pile of disassembled drone parts spread out before it. Its hands moved with precise efficiency, carefully slotting a new component into place while its mismatched eyes—one natural, the other a glowing blue lens—remained fixed on the task.

“Morning,” I said, sliding into the seat across from Viper.

They glanced up, their dark eyes narrowing slightly before softening into a small smile. “Finally decided to show up, Tats?”

I rolled my eyes, reaching for the coffee pot in the center of the table. “I had a late night.”

“Taking care of the basement surprise, huh?” Viper asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Something like that,” I muttered, pouring the coffee.

“Where’s Breaker?” I asked, glancing at the empty chair beside me.

“Med bay,” Reaper said without looking up from his datapad. “They’re keeping him for observation after that hit he took. Should be back by tomorrow.”

“Good,” I said. “The squad doesn’t feel right without him.”

Watcher’s voice cut in, flat and precise. “He sustained significant blunt force trauma to the thoracic cavity. Medical protocol dictates a minimum recovery period of seventy-two hours for injuries of that nature.”

I nodded, not bothering to respond. Watcher wasn’t the type to need acknowledgment—it simply stated facts and moved on.

“You didn’t tell us you were keeping the demon,” Viper said, tilting their head.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” I said. “Command shoved the responsibility onto me, and I wasn’t about to leave her with those assholes in the med bay.”

Viper’s expression softened slightly, their hand stilling on the dagger. “How is she?”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the mug. “Feral. Scared. But alive.”

“That’s something,” Viper said quietly.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor drew my attention. A man I hadn’t seen before sat down at the table, his tray clattering as he dropped it onto the surface. He was tall and wiry, with a sharp, angular face and a mop of unkempt brown hair. His uniform was pristine, the fabric pressed and unwrinkled in a way that screamed “new recruit.”

“Who’s this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Paul,” the man said, his voice clipped and curt. “The medic.”

“Paul?” Viper repeated, arching a brow. “No callsign yet?”

“Not yet,” Reaper said, setting down his datapad. “He’s green.”

Paul’s gaze flicked to me, his expression cool and assessing. “You’re the one keeping the demon, aren’t you?”

I stiffened, my jaw tightening. “She’s not a demon. She’s a succubus.”

“Same thing,” Paul said dismissively, cutting into the pile of eggs on his plate. “You realize how dangerous that is, right? Keeping one of those things around?”

“Careful, Paul,” Viper said, their tone sharp. “You’re talking about one of ours.”

Paul snorted. “I’m talking about a non-human parasite. If it’s not leeching off you now, it will be soon enough.”

“She’s not a parasite,” I said coldly. “And I’m not interested in your opinion.”

“Doesn’t matter if you are or not,” Paul said, shrugging. “The fact is, things like that don’t belong in civilized places. They’re dangerous, and they don’t know how to be anything else.”

The table fell silent. Even Watcher paused in its tinkering, its mismatched eyes flicking between Paul and me.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice low.

Paul smirked faintly, but Reaper cut in before he could respond. “That’s enough,” Reaper said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Paul muttered something under his breath but went back to his food.

The tension lingered as we ate, though the conversation drifted toward lighter topics. Viper recounted a previous mission involving a faulty teleportation spell with exaggerated flair, earning a few chuckles from the table. Watcher, ever methodical, detailed potential drone upgrades, though much of the technical jargon went over my head.

Eventually, Reaper cleared his throat, setting his fork down. “Let’s get to it. Mission payout’s been adjusted. Command docked us because the extraction target was dead before we arrived.”

“That’s bullshit,” Viper said immediately, their mohawk buns bobbing as they leaned forward. “We didn’t extract him because he was already dead, but we still cleared the building. Hell, we did them a favor.”

“Command doesn’t see it that way,” Reaper said. “Their contract stated retrieval, not cleanup.”

“It’s always something,” I muttered, taking another sip of coffee.

“Unfortunately,” Reaper said, his tone dry. “But we’ve been through worse. This isn’t the first time they’ve screwed us, and it won’t be the last.”

The others murmured in agreement, their frustration palpable but resigned.

As the conversation waned, Viper turned to me. “So, Tats,” they began, their tone light but curious, “what’s the plan for your new friend?”

“She’s not my friend,” I said, though the words felt hollow.

“You know what I mean.” They smirked. “You’re taking her home, right?”

I nodded. “After I finish the paperwork and get her chipped.”

“Chipped?” Viper frowned.

“Standard protocol,” I said. “Command requires it for all non-human assets. They won’t let her leave the facility without it.”

Viper’s expression darkened, but they didn’t argue.

“After that,” I continued, “I’m taking her to my apartment. She needs somewhere quiet to recover. This place is too loud, too chaotic. It’s not good for her.”

Viper nodded approvingly, their eyes softening. “Good. She deserves that much, at least.”

Paul let out a derisive snort but didn’t say anything, though his disapproval hung in the air like a bad smell.

Ignoring him, I stood, grabbing an empty plate. “I’m taking this back to her. Someone has to make sure she eats.”

“Soft,” Viper teased, though their smile was warm.

“Practical,” I corrected, heading toward the food line.

I piled the plate with eggs, toast, and a few strips of bacon—simple but filling. As I left the mess hall, I could feel the eyes of other mercenaries on me, their whispers trailing in my wake.

“Is that for the demon?”

“Raku’s soft. Always knew they were weird.”

“Bet they’re keeping it as a pet.”

I ignored them, my grip tightening on the plate as I made my way back to my quarters.

The door hissed shut behind me, sealing us away from the noise of the facility.

She was exactly where I’d left her, crouched in the corner of the bed with the blanket draped around her shoulders. Her pink eyes locked onto me the moment I entered, sharp and watchful, but she didn’t growl this time.

“I’m back,” I said softly, holding up the plate. “Like I promised.”

Her eyes flicked to the food, then back to me, her claws flexing against the edge of the blanket.

I crossed the room slowly, setting the plate down on the desk and stepping back to give her space. “It’s all for you,” I said. “You don’t have to fight me for it.”

She didn’t move right away. Her pink eyes darted between me and the plate, her expression unreadable.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, sitting down in the chair by the desk. “Take your time.”

Her claws twitched again, and she shifted slightly, the blanket slipping from one shoulder as she leaned forward. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like a predator stalking uncertain prey.

When she finally reached the plate, she sniffed it cautiously, her pink eyes narrowing as she studied the food.

“It’s safe,” I said. “No tricks.”

She glanced at me, her expression skeptical, before picking up a piece of toast. Her claws sliced through the bread as she gripped it, but she didn’t seem to care.

She ate quickly, tearing through the food with sharp, jerky motions. It was messy and almost violent, crumbs scattering across the desk and floor, but I didn’t say anything.

Let her eat. Let her feel like she could take what she needed without fear of someone snatching it away.

I let myself feel the flicker of hope for exactly three seconds before my datapad buzzed, reminding me of the looming mountain of paperwork waiting for my attention.

Sighing, I powered the thing on and was greeted with a slew of notifications. Each one carried the weight of responsibility wrapped in bureaucracy. Half of it was for her, the other half the mess from the mission itself.

Request for Asset Registration: Unregistered Non-Human Entity – Category D (Succubus). Submit biometric data. Apply tracking chip. Complete Form 447-3. Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action.

Incident Report Submission Required: Property Damage – Basement Collapse. Outline incident timeline. Submit photographic evidence. Responsible parties.

And more. Always more.

I sank into the chair by the desk, rolling my shoulders as I opened the first form. The standard-issue mess of questions scrolled onto the screen. Every one was deliberately designed to make me feel like I was documenting a piece of equipment rather than someone I’d carried out of a hellhole the day before.

I entered the basics: approximate height and weight, category of species, the “behaviors observed,” and dietary requirements. The last one made me pause, and I stared at the blinking cursor like it might supply the answer for me.

What did I even write? She was starving, feral, scared—but those weren’t behaviors, were they? Those were conditions inflicted on her. I typed a line and deleted it three times before settling on: “Flight and fight instincts heightened due to prolonged mistreatment. No signs of aggression beyond survival-driven behavior.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was accurate.

The rest of the form asked for biometric data I didn’t have yet. I could already hear the medics groaning about me dragging her into their sterile, too-bright facility again. Not that I cared about their opinions. This wasn’t optional. Command needed their damn chip implanted, and without it, I’d have hell to pay.

By the time I reached the incident report, my vision blurred with fatigue. I powered through anyway, documenting the chain of events as plainly as possible: the initial entry, the fight through the cultists, the flesh amalgamation, the structural collapse on the trapped stairs, and the discovery of her chained in the basement. Every detail was etched into my memory, but typing it out made it feel colder, more detached, like it had happened to someone else.

I submitted the last report and set the datapad aside, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The dull ache in my temples reminded me that sleep had been more suggestion than reality last night.

I glanced at the bed. She was still there, bundled in the blanket with her knees tucked up to her chest. Her pink eyes watched me cautiously, every movement measured and deliberate.

“It’s all set,” I said softly, though I doubted she understood. “Now we just have to get through the next part.”

Her claws flexed against the fabric, and I stood slowly, stretching the stiffness from my back.

“This might be rough,” I admitted, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. “But it’s the last thing we need to do before we can get out of here.”

She didn’t growl or hiss, but the tension in her body was unmistakable.

I held out a hand, palm up. “Come on. You’ll be with me the whole time.”

Her pink eyes darted to my hand, then back to my face. After a moment, she shifted forward, the blanket slipping from her shoulders as her claws brushed against my palm.

“Good,” I murmured. “Let’s go.”

The hallways were quieter than usual for this time of day, but the clang of her hooves against the floor echoed like gunshots in the stillness. She stayed close, her claws grazing my arm occasionally as if making sure I was still there. Her breathing quickened the closer we got to the medbay, and I felt her claws dig slightly into my sleeve.

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Just a quick procedure. Then we’re done.”

The medbay doors slid open with a faint hiss, and the antiseptic scent hit me like a wall. The sterile light illuminated every corner of the room, casting harsh shadows across the equipment and the two medics waiting for us.

One of them was Paul, the squad’s new recruit. His uniform was spotless, his expression smug, and I already hated him. He glanced at the succubus and snorted.

“You’re really bringing that thing in here?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“She needs a chip,” I said flatly.

“She needs a leash,” Paul muttered, folding his arms.

“Careful,” I warned, stepping slightly in front of her.

“She’s non-human,” Paul said, as if that explained everything. “You do realize what that means, right?”

“It means she’s in my care,” I snapped. “And she’s getting chipped, like Command ordered. Now shut up and do your job.”

Paul opened his mouth to retort, but the other medic—a tired-looking woman in her forties—cut him off. “Just get her onto the table,” she said, gesturing toward the exam station. “Let’s get this over with.”

I turned to the succubus, crouching slightly. Her claws flexed against my sleeve, and her pink eyes darted around the room with mounting panic.

“Hey,” I said gently. “It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

Her breathing hitched, and she pressed closer to me.

“She’s not going to cooperate,” the woman said, already reaching for a syringe.

“Put that down,” I said sharply, shooting her a glare. “I’ll handle it.”

The medic hesitated but lowered the syringe.

I turned back to the succubus, keeping my voice soft. “It’s just one quick thing. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Her claws twitched, but she didn’t pull away as I guided her toward the table. It took time—too much time, with Paul’s judgmental eyes boring into me—but I eventually coaxed her onto the metal surface.

She whimpered as the needle went in, her claws scraping against the table’s edge, but she didn’t lash out.

“All done,” I said, giving her hand a light squeeze. “You’re good.”

The woman stepped back, nodding curtly. “She’s chipped. You can take her.”

Paul muttered something under his breath, and I felt my patience snap.

“She’s not a thing,” I said, my voice low and sharp. “And if you can’t handle that, maybe this isn’t the job for you. Maybe I'll have Reaper move you somewhere else. I hear Zeta squad are looking for a new meatshield now that their tank died.”

Paul glared at me but didn’t respond.

I helped the succubus off the table, her claws gripping my arm tightly as we left the medbay. The doors slid shut behind us, cutting off the too-bright light and the stench of antiseptic.

My car was waiting for us in the underground garage, a plain gray sedan that wasn’t flashy but got the job done. She hesitated as we approached it, her claws tightening against my sleeve.

“It’s okay,” I said, opening the passenger door. “It’s just a car. It’ll take us somewhere quieter.”

Her pink eyes flicked to me, then to the car, her expression wary.

I crouched slightly, meeting her gaze. “You’ll like it. No more noise, no more people. Just you and me. I promise.”

She didn’t move at first, but eventually, she stepped forward, her hooves clicking softly against the concrete as she climbed into the seat.

“Good,” I said, shutting the door gently before sliding into the driver’s side.

The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between us. She stayed curled in the passenger seat, her claws gripping the edge as she stared out the window. Her pink eyes were wide, taking in the city lights as they flickered against the rain-slick streets.

“You’re doing great,” I said softly, glancing at her briefly. “We’re almost there.”

Her gaze flicked to me for a moment before returning to the window.

The apartment complex came into view, its familiar gray walls a welcome sight after the chaos of the day. I pulled into the garage and parked, exhaling a quiet sigh of relief.

“We’re here,” I said, stepping out of the car.

She hesitated again, her claws nervously picking on her skin, before slowly following me out.

The apartment wasn’t much—a small one-bedroom unit on the edge of the city—but it was quiet and private. Exactly what she needed.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside. “Welcome home,” I said softly.

She lingered in the doorway, her pink eyes scanning the room with cautious curiosity.

The apartment door clicked shut behind us, sealing away the hum of the hallway. The muffled quiet should have been calming, but the succubus’ claws scraped softly against the wooden frame as her eyes darted around the room.

She stayed rooted to the spot, her hooves barely shifting against the floor. Tension rolled off her in waves, coiling her tail tightly around her legs.

“It’s just us,” I said, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it on the wall hook. My voice was low, deliberate. “No alarms. No medics. No one else.”

She didn’t reply, her gaze flicking toward the corners of the room, searching for threats that weren’t there.

I moved to the small kitchen across the open-plan living room, more to give her space than because I had a plan. The kitchen was a galley-style arrangement along one wall, with dark wood cabinets and just enough counter space to be functional.

The apartment was quiet except for her shallow breathing. It wasn’t much—a single bedroom, a small bathroom tucked to the side, and the open living room with its attached kitchen. But it was home.

The cozy warmth of the space stood in stark contrast to the barrenness of my quarters at HQ. Here, the tan walls were dotted with old photos and small paintings, and the soft light from the warm-toned overhead fixtures added to the sense of calm. A threadbare couch and low coffee table took up most of the living room, while a well-loved bookshelf lined one wall, packed with paperbacks, mission logs, and odd trinkets collected over the years.

I could see how much the space threw her off. After the sterile hell of the medbay and the oppressive confines of her imprisonment, this was... different.

“I’ll get you some water,” I said, opening a cabinet to grab a glass. My movements were slow, deliberate. No sudden gestures.

She twitched as I reached into the sink for the faucet. The subtle shift was loud in the stillness. I poured the water, set the glass on the counter, and stepped back. “It’s clean,” I said softly, keeping my distance. “Drink when you’re ready.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Her eyes stayed locked on the glass, her claws flexing faintly.

“It’s not going to hurt you,” I added, leaning casually against the opposite counter.

Finally, she moved. Her hooves clicked softly against the floor as she stepped forward. Each movement was deliberate, a predator’s caution. She stopped a few feet from the counter, her claws brushing the edge of the granite as she sniffed the air.

Her gaze flicked between me and the glass. Then, with a sharp motion, she snatched it up and retreated two steps, spilling some water in the process.

I didn’t move as she brought the glass to her lips and drank. The water vanished quickly, her gulps loud in the silence. When the glass was empty, she lowered it and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, the pink glow in her eyes softening slightly.

“Better?” I asked.

Her tail lashed once, but she didn’t growl. That was progress.

“Come on,” I said, stepping toward the living room. “Let me show you around.”

Her claws scraped lightly against the counter as she hesitated, her eyes narrowing.

“It’s just a room,” I said, gesturing to the space around us. “No one’s hiding here. Just furniture and books.”

She followed, her movements slow and deliberate.

I gestured to the couch, its faded fabric sagging slightly in the middle. “That’s where I usually crash when I’m too tired to make it to the bed.” I motioned to the bookshelf next to it. “Books. Old mission logs. Some junk I picked up from the field. You can take a look if you want.”

Her gaze lingered on the bookshelf, then drifted to the coffee table. A faint scuff mark caught her attention, her claws flexing as she studied it.

“I’ve got a bedroom,” I continued, pointing toward the closed door at the far end of the living room. “Bathroom’s there.” I gestured toward a smaller door to the right. “That’s the whole place. Small, but it’s mine.”

She didn’t respond, her eyes flicking between me and the room. Her claws flexed rhythmically in the air, as though she were testing her own resolve.

“You can sit,” I said, motioning to the couch. “It’s soft. I promise.”

For a moment, she just stood there. Then, slowly, she approached the couch, her tail swishing low to the floor. Her hooves clicked against the wood before muffling as she stepped onto the rug in front of it.

She crouched low, sniffing the cushions like she had the water glass earlier. Her claws pressed against the fabric experimentally, and when it didn’t react, she sank onto the edge of the couch.

Her posture was rigid, her shoulders tight, and her claws dug lightly into the armrest.

“It’s not a trap,” I said, settling into the armchair across from her. “It’s just a couch.”

She glanced at me, her expression flickering with something close to skepticism.

The silence stretched between us, filled only by the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I’ve got food, but I don’t know what you can eat. If it’s something like earlier...”

Her tail snapped against the couch, her claws flexing as her gaze darted to the window.

“Okay,” I said quickly, raising my hands. “No pressure.”

She leaned back slightly, her breathing slow but uneven. The glow in her eyes had dimmed further, exhaustion overtaking her wariness.

“Rest if you need to,” I said. “You’re safe here.”

For the first time, her claws relaxed fully, and she shifted slightly on the couch. She didn’t lie down, but she curled her legs under her, her tail wrapping loosely around her ankles.

I let her be, leaning back in the armchair as the tension in the room began to ease.

Her eyes flicked to the bookshelf again, lingering there as one of her clawed hands lightly traced the armrest of the couch. The gesture was slow, almost absentminded, but the tension in her body hadn’t fully left.

“Go ahead,” I said, gesturing toward the shelf. “You can take a look if something catches your eye. There’s no traps or tricks. Just books and some junk I haven’t gotten rid of.”

She tilted her head, a faint, sharp motion that sent a few strands of her crimson hair falling across her face. Her horns caught the light as she shifted.

She stood, moving with that same deliberate caution she had shown since stepping into the apartment.

The bookshelf wasn’t tall—maybe up to my chest—but it was crammed with all the little pieces of my life that hadn’t been left behind on the battlefield. She crouched low as she reached it, her tail curling loosely around her leg for balance.

She touched one of the books first, her claw tapping against the spine. Her movements were curious but hesitant, like she didn’t fully trust the object in her hand. Her fingers flexed, lifting the book carefully from the shelf, and she opened it, her claws grazing lightly over the pages.

I didn’t move or speak, watching as she studied the book’s contents. She couldn’t read it—at least, I doubted she could—but the act of turning the pages seemed to hold her focus.

After a moment, she set the book aside and reached for something else—a small wooden carving. It was an old devilwood charm I’d picked up during a mission years ago, worn smooth from handling.

Her claws traced the grooves of the carving, the faintest flicker of recognition crossing her expression. Her tail swished once, gently, as she turned it over in her hands.

“It’s from a village in the western territories,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “They said it was for protection.”

She stilled, her eyes darting to me. For a moment, her expression sharpened, as though she were searching for hidden meaning in my words.

“It’s yours if you want it,” I added, keeping my voice light.

Her claws flexed against the wood. Then, without a word, she set the totem down on the shelf and straightened, slowly moving back toward the couch.

“Not a fan of decorations?” I asked as she sat down, her posture stiff again.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough to show her sharp fangs.

“Fair enough,” I muttered.

Her gaze shifted toward the window, her tail twitching faintly against the couch cushion. The curtains were drawn, heavy enough to block out the neon cityscape beyond, but her posture said she was still braced for the possibility of danger.

I stood and walked toward the kitchen, giving her a little more space. “I’m making tea,” I said over my shoulder. “It’s warm. No strings attached.”

The kettle hissed softly as I filled it with water and set it on the stove. The sound of the gas burner igniting broke the quiet, a sharp contrast to the stillness of the room.

She didn’t respond, but I caught her watching me out of the corner of her eye.

By the time the tea was steeped and poured into mismatched mugs, she’d curled her legs under her again, her claws resting lightly on the cushion. Her eyes followed me as I crossed the room, one mug in each hand.

I set hers on the coffee table, sliding it toward her carefully. “It’s hot,” I said. “Sip it slowly.”

She didn’t move at first, her eyes narrowing at the steaming liquid. Her tail flicked sharply, tapping against the couch.

“It’s just tea,” I said, taking a sip from my own mug.

After a long pause, she leaned forward, her claws brushing the edge of the table. She sniffed at the tea, her sharp features scrunching slightly at the unfamiliar scent.

She brought the mug to her lips, her claws tapping lightly against the ceramic. Her first sip was small, cautious, but her tail swayed faintly as she swallowed.

“Not bad, right?” I asked, leaning back in the armchair.

Her gaze flicked toward me briefly, then back to the mug.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt... easier. The tension in her shoulders had eased, and her claws no longer clutched the cushion with that rigid, defensive grip.

“You’ll need a name,” I said suddenly, the thought slipping out before I could stop myself.

Her tail froze mid-sway, her eyes snapping to mine.

“Unless you already have one,” I added quickly. “But I can’t just keep calling you ‘hey.’ or 'the succubus'”

Her lips parted slightly, her fangs glinting in the light.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” I said, shrugging. “Just... think about it.”

Her tail resumed its slow movement, her gaze lingering on me for a beat longer before returning to her tea.

The hours slipped by in relative quiet after that. She stayed curled on the couch, sipping her tea in slow, deliberate movements, while I occupied myself with sorting through the clutter on the coffee table.

Her eyes would flick to me occasionally, sharp and assessing, but the edge of mistrust that had defined her since I’d found her was beginning to soften. Not gone, but softer.

I let her be, giving her space to adjust to this strange new environment.

When she finally set the empty mug down on the table and curled tighter against the couch cushions, her breathing slow and steady, I allowed myself a small smile.

The microwave oven beeped, cutting through the quiet hum of the kitchen. I opened it and pulled the pizza out, the aroma of cheese and tomato sauce filling the air. Steam curled lazily from the melted topping, and the crust had crisped just enough to make my mouth water. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it beat anything HQ’s mess hall could produce.

Behind me, she sat motionless at the table, her claws still faintly scratching at the wood. Her eyes darted between me and the plate as I set the pizza down on the counter, slicing it into uneven triangles with a dull knife.

“You’re gonna like this,” I said, sliding one of the slices onto a plate. “It’s warm, it’s easy, and it doesn’t fight back. Everything you need in a meal.”

She didn’t respond—of course not—but her ears twitched slightly, the first sign she was paying attention. I carried the plate to the table and set it down in front of her, staying out of her reach as I retreated to grab my own.

“It’s not poisoned,” I said in response to her expression, sitting across from her. I took a bite of my own slice, gesturing with the edge of the crust. “See? Just bread, sauce, and cheese. That’s it.”

Her tail swished once against the floor, but she didn’t move.

“You’re going to have to eat again eventually,” I said. “Might as well start now.”

Her claws twitched against the edge of the plate, sharp against the ceramic. Slowly, she reached out and plucked the slice from the plate, holding it awkwardly in both hands. She brought it to her mouth, fangs grazing the crust as she hesitated.

“It’s hot,” I warned.

She took a small, cautious bite. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she chewed, her tail curling around the table leg. For a moment, she froze, as though deciding whether to spit it out. Then she swallowed, tilting her head slightly as if puzzling out the taste.

“Well?” I asked.

Her gaze snapped to me, sharp and assessing, before she took another bite. Bigger this time.

“That’s a yes,” I muttered, smiling faintly as I picked up a slice of my own.

The first slice vanished quickly, and she reached for the second without hesitation. I leaned back in my chair, watching as she devoured the rest of the pizza with surprising efficiency. Her claws scraped faintly against the plate as she worked through the final crust, her tail flicking lazily against the floor.

“You like it,” I said, smirking.

She paused, her claws tapping lightly against the plate, before tilting her head slightly. It wasn’t exactly agreement, but it wasn’t a denial either.

“Good,” I said, standing and stretching. “There’s more in the freezer if you’re still hungry. I’ll grab another one.”

Her eyes followed me as I moved to the kitchen, her posture relaxing slightly as I pulled a second pizza from the freezer.

The second pizza took longer to cook, partly because I left it in the oven for a crispier crust. While I waited, I glanced back at her. She remained seated, her claws now tapping idly against the edge of the table.

“Not bad, huh?” I asked, leaning against the counter.

Her gaze flicked to me, sharp as ever, before darting back to the empty plate. The way her tail shifted—slow and rhythmic now—suggested something closer to ease than I’d seen before.

“You’re allowed to like things, you know,” I said, folding my arms. “It’s not a crime.”

Her claws stilled, then flexed against the plate with a quiet scratching sound. She tilted her head again, the motion almost questioning.

“I mean, it’s pizza,” I added, smirking. “What’s not to like?”

When the second pizza was done, I set it down on the counter, cutting it into pieces and loading another plate. “Here,” I said, placing the new plate in front of her. “You’re not done yet. Gotta get some meat on those bones.”

She sniffed at the slice before taking it in her claws, her motions a little smoother this time. Her tail swished faintly as she took a bite, chewing slowly.

I grabbed my own slice and slid back into the chair across from her, letting the quiet stretch between us. The air felt different now—less tense, less like she was waiting for something terrible to happen.

“You ever eaten like this before?” I asked between bites, more to keep up conversation than actually expecting an answer.

Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head slightly.

“Figured,” I said. “After the mess you came from... this must be weird.”

She tilted her head, a flicker of something crossing her face—curiosity, maybe.

“Don’t worry,” I added. “You’ll get used to it. Once I have time to do some groceries, anyway.”

After dinner, I cleared the plates, stacking them in the sink while she stayed at the table. Her eyes followed me, watching as I rinsed the dishes and wiped down the counter.

“You don’t have to sit there forever,” I said, glancing at her over my shoulder. “The couch is more comfortable.”

She didn’t respond, her claws still lightly tapping against the wood.

I leaned against the sink, drying my hands with a dishtowel. “You’re not going to break anything,” I said, tilting my head toward the living room. “Go ahead.”

Her ears twitched, and for a moment, she seemed to consider it. Then she stood, her hooves clicking softly against the floor as she walked back to the couch. She hesitated at the edge of the rug, her tail curling around her leg as she stared down at the cushions.

“It’s not a trap. You sat there already, you know it's okay,” I said, drying the last plate and setting it in the dish rack.

She crouched low, sniffing at the couch like she had before. Her claws pressed against the fabric experimentally, and when nothing happened, she slowly lowered herself onto the edge.

Her posture was stiff, her shoulders tight as she perched awkwardly on the cushion. Her tail flicked once, curling against her leg before settling.

“See?” I said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and putting it onto the coffee table. “Not so bad.”

She stayed on the couch while I grabbed a book from the shelf and sank into the armchair across from her. For a while, neither of us spoke. The faint hum of the fridge and the quiet rustle of pages were the only sounds in the apartment.

Her claws flexed faintly against the armrest, her eyes flicking between me and the window.

“It’s okay to relax,” I said without looking up.

Her gaze snapped to me, sharp and skeptical.

“You don’t have to be on edge all the time,” I added, turning a page. “This place isn’t going to fall apart on you.”

Her tail swished once, and she shifted slightly on the couch, her claws tapping against the fabric but not retracting.

When the clock ticked past eleven, I set the book down and stretched, letting out a slow breath. “You’re probably exhausted,” I said, standing. “Come on.”

Her ears twitched, her gaze narrowing as I gestured toward the bedroom.

“You’ll sleep better in there,” I said, nodding toward the closed door.

She hesitated, her claws flexing against the couch as her tail coiled tighter around her leg.

“It’s just a bed,” I said softly. “I’ll stay out here if you want. No one’s going to bother you.”

She stood slowly, her movements cautious as always, and followed me toward the bedroom.

The small space was warm and cluttered, the tangled sheets on the bed spilling onto the floor. I flicked on the light, gesturing toward the bed. “It’s all yours for tonight, just ignore the mess,” I said, grabbing a spare blanket from the dresser.

Her claws flexed faintly, her eyes darting between me and the bed.

“I’ll take the couch,” I added, stepping toward the door.

Before I could leave, her hand brushed against my wrist. Her touch stopped me cold. This was the first time she'd fully retracted her claws. Her grip wasn't strong, more of a firm, deliberate grip than an aggressive hold. I turned slowly, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were wide, searching, but they carried something different now. The raw hunger I’d seen earlier had faded, replaced by uncertainty.

“You want me to stay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

Her tail flicked, coiling tighter before unfurling in a slow, uncertain motion. She didn’t speak, but her claws flexed faintly against my wrist, holding me in place. I exhaled slowly, setting the spare blanket back on the edge of the bed. “Okay,” I said softly. “But you’re taking the bed.”

Her grip didn’t loosen, but her posture shifted, her tail swishing faintly behind her. I grabbed a pillow and dropped it onto the floor beside the bed, along with the blanket. “I’ll stay here. Close enough if you need me.”

Her eyes flicked to the makeshift spot on the floor, then back to me. I gently pulled my arm out of her grip and lowered myself onto the floor, settling against the pillow as I draped the blanket over my legs. The mattress creaked softly as she climbed onto the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She perched on the edge, her claws gripping the blanket as she glanced down at me.

“See?” I said, leaning back. “Not so bad.”

She didn’t answer, but she shifted slightly, curling her legs beneath her as her tail draped over the side of the bed. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before she finally lay back, her horns brushing lightly against the pillows.

The room fell into quiet, the faint hum of the city beyond the walls blending with the soft rhythm of her breathing. Her claws tapped faintly against the bedframe, a slow, absent motion that eventually stilled.

“You’re safe here,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her tail swished once, and for the first time since I’d found her, she seemed somewhat at peace. As far as I could tell from down on the floor, anyway. I stayed awake a little longer, watching the faint rise and fall of her chest in the dim light. When sleep finally claimed me, it was lighter and more restless than I would’ve liked, but it was sleep nonetheless. For both of us, that was enough.

I woke to the feeling that something was off. Blinking in the dim light filtering through the curtains, it took a moment for the world to come into focus. The muffled hum of the city below filled the silence, broken only by the soft, erratic thump of her tail hitting the side of the bed.

I sat up, the blanket slipping from my shoulders. She was on the bed, her frame taut and trembling, her eyes wide and wild. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, her claws digging into the mattress hard enough to leave faint tears in the fabric.

“Hey,” I said quietly, careful not to startle her.

Her head snapped toward me, her expression twisted in a mix of panic and desperation. Her tail lashed violently behind her, knocking into the bedpost with a loud crack.

“Hey,” I repeated, holding up my hands. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Her breathing didn’t slow. If anything, it grew more erratic, her claws scraping faster against the bedframe.

“Look at me,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here, with me. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

She didn’t respond, her gaze darting to the corners of the room as though she expected something to crawl out of the shadows.

I moved slowly, shifting to kneel beside the bed. Her tail snapped toward me, but I caught it gently, holding it in place without forcing her. “Breathe,” I said softly. “Just breathe. You've seen the apartment, there's nobody here but us.”

Her claws paused, hovering over the mattress as her eyes locked onto mine. For a moment, she seemed to freeze, her chest heaving as she struggled for air.

“That’s it,” I said, my tone calm and even. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here. Listen to my voice.”

She blinked, her tail twitching faintly in my grasp. Her claws flexed once, twice, before slowly retracting them.

“Good,” I said, releasing her tail and sitting back on my heels.

She stared at me, her breathing still heavy but less frantic. Her eyes were glassy, filled with something raw and unspoken.

“It’s just a bad dream,” I murmured. “That’s all it was.”

Her lips parted slightly, her fangs glinting faintly in the low light. I stood, grabbing the blanket I’d abandoned on the floor and draping it over my shoulders.

“Come on,” I said, motioning for her to scoot over. Her tail flicked, and she shifted reluctantly, moving toward the far side of the bed. I sat on the edge, leaning back against the headboard. The mattress dipped slightly under my weight, and her expression was wary as she watched me. “You don’t have to talk about it,” I said, staring at the ceiling. “But you don’t have to deal with it alone either.”

Her gaze lingered on me, her eyes narrowing faintly as though trying to gauge the truth of my words. She moved closer, her tail curling loosely around her legs as she settled near me. I stayed where I was, letting the quiet fill the space between us. Her breathing began to slow, each inhale and exhale a little steadier than the last. When her head finally rested against the pillow, her eyes drifting shut, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Goodnight,” I murmured, leaning back and closing my eyes.

Her tail brushed faintly against my leg, a small, cautious motion that felt almost deliberate. Almost willing to trust. For the rest of the night, neither of us moved.

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, painting the room in muted gold. I blinked awake, my head heavy against the headboard. The stiffness in my neck reminded me I hadn’t slept well, but the faint warmth against my side made me hesitate before shifting.

She was still asleep.

She lay curled on her side, her tail draped over her legs. Her face, relaxed and unguarded, was turned toward me, her pink eyes closed. The light caught her horns, polished black and curving gently upward, and I felt a faint, dull pressure where one nudged my ribs. Her hair, smooth and wild all at once, brushed against my arm.

Her claws, which had so often scraped against wood, metal, and anything else within reach, were nowhere to be seen. Her hands rested lightly on the blanket, fingers half-curled, relaxed in a way that almost made her look... human.

I glanced toward the nightstand and carefully reached for my datapad. My arm brushed her shoulder as I moved, and she stirred slightly, her head shifting to rest more fully against me. I froze as the pressure of her horns shifted against my ribs, poking me more insistently. Her warmth seeped through the thin blanket separating us, and her breath came soft and steady against my side.

I exhaled slowly, settling back into place and opening the datapad. Moving her would have felt wrong, and besides, she looked peaceful. For her, maybe this was progress.

Flipping through my search tabs, I went back to my notes. Everything I’d found on succubi was fragmented, written more like rumors than fact. Some texts emphasized their reliance on feeding, which wasn’t just about raw energy—it tied to pleasure, closeness, even intimacy. Others noted their heightened senses during times of vulnerability and how their claws retracted when they felt less threatened.

I glanced at her hands. No claws. At least in that regard the document was on point.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, a faint murmur escaping her lips as her tail twitched. I let my gaze linger on her face for a moment before returning to the datapad. The idea that she might actually be starting to feel safe here was... satisfying, even if she’d never admit it.

Time passed slowly, marked by the faint hum of the city beyond the walls. My datapad slipped into idle mode, but I barely noticed. Her horns nudged me again as she shifted, her head pressing more firmly against my side.

She stirred, her breathing hitching, and her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she didn’t move, her gaze hazy and unfocused as she took in her surroundings. Then her eyes locked on me, and she froze.

“Morning,” I said softly, keeping my voice light.

Her tail flicked against the blanket as she sat up, her hands gripping the fabric. She didn’t growl, but her gaze darted away, sharp and uncertain.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded faintly, her claws twitching once before retracting again. She refused to meet my eyes, maybe embarrassed? I didn't know.

“Good. You hungry?”

Her ears twitched, and her gaze flicked back to me, her expression softening slightly.

“Stay here if you want. I’ll prepare something and call you when I'm ready,” I said, standing and stretching. Her eyes tracked me as I moved toward the door, but she didn’t immediately move to follow. Progress.

Breakfast was quiet. I kept it simple—toast, leftover pizza, and some fruit I wasn’t sure she’d eat. All we had left, really. She sat across from me, her tail wrapped loosely around the chair leg. Her hands were steadier now, her claws retracted as she picked at the toast with delicate movements.

She didn’t say anything—not that she could—but she didn’t need to. The tension in her shoulders was lighter, her movements less rigid. When she caught me watching her claws, she paused for a moment, flexing her fingers as though testing them.

“You don’t always need claws to defend yourself,” I said, biting into my toast. “But I think you’re starting to figure that out.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t growl or look away.

Later, back in the bedroom, the faint grime clinging to my skin caught up with me. I glanced at her as I grabbed a fresh shirt and boxers from the dresser. “I’m going to shower,” I said. “Won’t be long. You’ll be fine here.”

Her ears twitched, and her tail curled tighter around her leg, but she didn’t follow as I walked to the bathroom.

I let the hot water wash over me, scrubbing away the sweat and dirt that still clung to me from the mission. The familiar routine of showering brought a small comfort, a chance to reset my mind and body.

The sound of claws against wood made me freeze.

The scratching came again, rhythmic and frantic, followed by a faint, almost guttural whimper. My chest tightened as I reached for the towel. “Hold on,” I called, shutting off the water and wrapping the towel loosely around my torso.

I opened the door to find her standing there, her claws pressed against the wood. Her tail lashed sharply behind her, and her eyes burned brightly with panic. She froze as soon as she saw me, her claws retracting slightly.

“I was just showering,” I said gently, stepping back to give her space. “I told you I’d be back.”

Her breathing hitched, and her gaze darted to the floor.

“You thought I’d left,” I said, the realization sinking in. “I wasn’t leaving. I told you—you’re safe here. That doesn’t change if I’m in another room.”

Her claws flexed once but stayed retracted after as she took a step back, her tail curling against her leg. She looked away, but her shoulders slumped, the tension easing just slightly.

“Go back to the bedroom,” I said, my voice soft. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

She hesitated, her pink eyes flicking back to mine before she turned and padded toward the bedroom.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind me, I barely had time to process her expression before I noticed where her gaze had locked.

Her eyes, sharp and focused, weren’t on my face. They were lower, fixed on my cleavage. The towel slung loosely around my shoulders left me bare from the waist up, and the weight of her stare felt almost tangible.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough to reveal a flash of her fangs. Her tail swished behind her, slow and deliberate, and though her hands remained on the bed, I noticed her claws flex, faintly retracting again.

“Hey,” I said softly, leaning against the doorframe. Her gaze didn’t shift. I cleared my throat. “My face is up here, you know.”

Her pink eyes flicked upward briefly, meeting mine with an expression that wasn’t quite defiant but wasn’t apologetic either.

The lingering heat in her gaze made something click in my mind. She wasn’t ogling—at least, not entirely. This was hunger, the same kind I’d seen before, tempered now by something more deliberate. I remembered what I’d read earlier: feeding wasn’t just about energy; it thrived on pleasure, desire, and the intimacy of it.

Her tail twitched again, curling slightly as her eyes drifted downward once more. She wasn’t moving closer, wasn’t even speaking, but I could feel the weight of her need, her instincts pushing against the fragile line we’d drawn.

“Not this way,” I said quietly, wrapping the towel more securely around my shoulders. “Not yet.”

Her ears twitched at my words, her gaze narrowing as though measuring my tone.

“You need to feed, I get it. But for now...” I crossed the room, grabbing the shirt I’d left draped over the chair. “We’re keeping it simple. Energy only.”

Her claws twitched faintly against the bedspread, her tail flicking sharply once before stilling. I pulled the shirt over my head, feeling her gaze track every movement. When I turned back to face her, her expression was guarded, conflicted, but not angry. Her claws hadn’t extended again, and her breathing was slow, steady.

“I’m not saying no,” I added carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But this is new—for both of us. We’ll take it one step at a time.” I didn't think going to the more... extreme measures of feeding a succubus were something I could stomach just yet. I couldn't even stomach truly thinking about it.

She tilted her head again, her pink eyes narrowing slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But instead, she leaned back slightly, her tail curling loosely around her leg.

“Come here,” I said gently, tilting my head and flaring the faint glow of the runes etched into my skin.

Her gaze lingered on my neck, her claws retracting completely now as she shifted closer. The air between us felt heavier as she leaned in, her breath warm against my skin. Her magic stirred faintly, brushing against mine in a hesitant, cautious motion.

“That’s it,” I murmured, closing my eyes as the pull began. "Just like before."

The connection was softer this time, less desperate. Her hands rested lightly on my arm, and her tail draped across the bed, its restless flicking finally stilled. She wasn’t taking much, just enough to sate the edge of her hunger.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes met mine, quieter now, though the hunger hadn’t entirely faded.

“You’re okay,” I said, leaning back slightly. “Better?”

She nodded, her lips parting as though to speak, but no sound came other than a small huff. Instead, she sat back on the bed, her hands resting lightly in her lap. I didn't notice at the time how much more human that nod looked compared to barely a day earlier.

I reached for the towel to finish drying my hair, pretending not to notice the way her gaze lingered on me again. I wasn’t sure where this path would lead, but for now, it was enough that we’d kept things steady.

“Let’s try to make it through the rest of the day without clawing at doors or each other,” I said lightly, earning a faint flick of her tail.

The warmth of her hands lingered against my skin long after she’d settled back onto the bed.

She remained seated, her posture slightly more relaxed than it had been before. The blanket she’d claimed was wrapped loosely around her shoulders, the fabric spilling onto the mattress in soft folds. Her pink eyes glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the curtains, tracking my every move with a quiet intensity.

“You don’t have to keep staring,” I said softly, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her head tilted slightly, her ears twitching in response to my voice. She didn’t look away, but there was something calmer in the way she sat, her hands resting lightly against the blanket instead of gripping it like a lifeline.

I let out a quiet sigh and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “I should get up. There’s too much to do today.”

Her tail flicked again, sharper this time, but she didn’t growl or bristle. Instead, she shifted her weight slightly, watching as I stretched and stood.

“You can stay here if you want,” I added, glancing back at her. “Or follow me. Whatever works for you.”

She hesitated for only a moment before slipping off the bed, her movements smooth and deliberate. Her hooves tapped softly against the floor as she padded after me, the blanket trailing behind her like a cape.

The living room welcomed us with the soft glow of morning sunlight spilling through the curtains. The warmth of the room felt like a quiet exhale, a relief after the heavy tension of the past few days. The dishes from our breakfast this morning were still on the table.

She paused near the doorway, her pink eyes flicking around the space as though taking stock of everything in it. Her tail swished faintly, brushing against the wooden frame as she stepped forward.

“It’s not much,” I said, setting the laundry basket on the couch. “But it’s home.”

Her ears twitched, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she hovered near the edge of the room, her hands brushing lightly against the back of the couch as she trailed behind me.

“Laundry first,” I said, grabbing a wrinkled shirt from the basket. “Ever done this before?”

She tilted her head, her pink eyes narrowing slightly.

“Didn’t think so,” I said, tossing the shirt onto the couch. “It’s easy. Just sorting.”

She crouched near the coffee table, her tail curling loosely around her legs as she watched me. Her hands rested lightly on the edge of the table, her fingers twitching faintly as I sorted the clothes into piles.

After a moment, I held up a sock. “Want to try?”

Her gaze flicked between me and the sock before she reached out tentatively. Her fingers brushed against the fabric, and she took it from my hand with careful precision.

“Underwear pile,” I said, pointing to the corner of the couch.

Her tail swished again—less sharp this time—and she placed the sock where I’d indicated with far too much concentration and care.

“See?” I said, grinning. “You’re a natural.”

She didn’t respond, but the faintest flicker of what might have been amusement passed across her face before she reached for another item in the basket.

By the time we finished, the couch was covered in neat stacks of clean laundry, and the basket was finally empty.

“Not bad,” I said, carrying the basket to the bedroom. “You make a good assistant.”

She didn’t follow me this time, staying in the living room as I dropped the basket off and returned to grab the vacuum. The moment I pulled it from the closet, her posture changed.

Her tail snapped sharply against the floor, and her ears flattened slightly as her pink eyes locked onto the machine.

“It’s just a vacuum,” I said, holding up the cord. “Loud, but harmless.”

She didn’t growl, but her hands curled faintly against the edge of the coffee table.

“Okay,” I said, setting the vacuum down. “You don’t have to like it, but it’s not going to hurt you. Watch.”

I plugged it in and flipped the switch. The hum of the motor filled the room, and she bolted behind the couch in an instant, her tail loudly whipping against the ground as she crouched low, leaving only her horns poking above the back of the couch. Her hands gripped the edge of the couch, her knuckles pale against the fabric.

“It’s okay,” I said, turning the vacuum off. “It’s not alive or anything. Just noisy.”

Her ears twitched at my voice, and her tail flicked sharply. Slowly, she peeked over the back of the couch, her pink eyes narrowing as she stared at the vacuum like it might attack.

“See?” I said, patting the side of the machine. “Harmless.”

She didn’t move at first, but as I crouched beside the vacuum and tapped the handle, she edged closer, her movements cautious but deliberate.

“You can touch it if you want,” I said, holding out the handle.

Her fingers brushed against it briefly before pulling back.

“Good enough,” I said, flipping the vacuum on again to take care of the rest of the apartment.

She stayed perched on the back of the couch this time, her posture tense but no longer panicked as I moved around the room. Her tail flicked occasionally, a sharp snap that echoed faintly against the walls, but she didn’t bolt again. I didn't question how she kept herself balanced perching up there with hooves.

When I finally flipped the machine off and coiled the cord, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in her tail eased.

“Not so bad, huh?” I said, leaning the vacuum against the wall.

Her gaze darted to the machine, then back to me. She didn’t growl, but the look on her face screamed disapproval.

“Yeah, I get it,” I said. “Not your favorite.”

She huffed softly, her claws scratching against the edge of the couch as she retracted them, before she slipped down to the floor. Her hooves clicked faintly against the wood as she padded closer, her posture less guarded than before.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I added, tossing a small smile her way. “Promise.”

The kitchen greeted me with its usual chaos—this morning's dishes, a counter cluttered with random odds and ends, and the faint scent of stale bread that I immediately continued to ignore.

She trailed after me, her hooves clicking softly against the floor as she stopped just shy of my field of view. Her pink eyes scanned the room, lingering on the sink and the faucet with a mix of curiosity and unease.

“This one’s pretty straightforward,” I said, grabbing a sponge and a bottle of dish soap. “Not as loud as the vacuum, I promise.”

Her ears twitched, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she leaned against the counter, her tail curling loosely as she watched me turn on the water.

The steady rush of the faucet filled the room, and her posture stiffened slightly. Her fingers curled around the edge of the doorframe, not in a stress-driven grip, but as if anchoring herself.

“Not a fan of this, either?” I asked, glancing at her over my shoulder.

She tilted her head, her gaze fixed on the water streaming into the sink.

“It’s just dishes,” I said, scrubbing a plate. “Nothing scary.”

She stepped closer, her movements cautious but deliberate, and crouched by the edge of the counter. Her hands rested lightly against the floor, her claws notably absent as she leaned forward, barely peering over the edge of the counter into the sink.

“Curious now?” I asked, rinsing the plate.

Her pink eyes darted to mine, sharp and questioning, before returning to the water.

“You can try it if you want,” I said, holding out the sponge. “It’s not exactly thrilling, but it’s easy.”

She didn’t take the sponge, but her fingers brushed the edge of the counter as she leaned closer, her gaze flicking between the sink and the plate in my hand.

“It’s just soap and water,” I added, rinsing the plate and setting it aside. “See?”

Her ears twitched, and after a moment, she reached out, her fingers hovering over the water. A droplet splashed against her hand, and she pulled back quickly, her tail flicking sharply.

“Sorry,” I said, turning the faucet off. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

She didn’t retreat entirely. Instead, she tilted her head, her pink eyes narrowing as though considering whether the water was worth the risk. Slowly, she reached out again, dipping the tips of her fingers into the shallow stream.

“There you go,” I said softly. “Not so bad, right?”

Her tail stilled, and she pulled her hand back, shaking off the droplets with a faint huff.

“Baby steps,” I murmured, turning back to the sink.

When the dishes were done, I grabbed a broom and a bottle of cleaner, heading down the hallway toward the bathroom.

She trailed behind me, her hooves tapping lightly against the floor, her eyes flicking between the walls as though cataloging every detail of this part of the apartment. The farther we went from the living room, the quieter the space felt, the quiet hum of the fridge fading into the distance.

The bathroom light flickered as I switched it on, buzzing faintly before steadying into a sharp white glare. I really need to get that light replaced. The tiles gleamed dully under the fluorescent glow, and the faint scent of mildew hung in the air, mixing with the lingering traces of old soap.

She stopped in the doorway, her ears flattening slightly as her gaze darted around the room.

“I know,” I said, propping the broom against the wall, forgetting why exactly I'd brought it. “It’s not exactly cozy.”

Her tail swished once behind her, curling slightly at the tip as she stepped closer. Her pink eyes lingered on the sink, then the mirror, then the shower stall in the corner.

“It’s not that bad,” I added, grabbing a cloth from the shelf. “Just needs a little work.”

Her hesitation was palpable, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she crouched slightly, her hooves clicking softly against the tile as she leaned forward to sniff at the edge of the sink. Her fingers brushed the porcelain lightly, tracing a faint line through the dust that had settled there.

“Curious now?” I asked, rinsing the cloth under the tap.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied the faucet. A single droplet of water clung to its edge, glinting in the harsh light, and when it finally fell, her ears twitched sharply.

“Don’t worry,” I said, wringing out the cloth. “I’m not turning it on again unless I have to.”

She straightened slightly, her hands resting on the edge of the sink as she turned her attention to the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, and for a moment, she seemed frozen, her gaze locked on the image in the glass.

“You okay?” I asked, pausing mid-scrub to glance at her.

Her tail flicked sharply, a quick snap against the tiles, but she didn’t growl. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the surface of the mirror. The smudge she left behind shimmered faintly in the light, and she tilted her head as though trying to reconcile the sensation with the reflection.

“It’s just glass,” I said softly, resuming my scrubbing. “It’s not going to bite you.”

She huffed faintly, her hand falling away from the mirror as she turned back toward me. Her expression was guarded but less wary than before, the sharp tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

“See?” I said, wiping down the faucet. “Nothing to worry about.”

She didn’t respond, but her tail swished again—slower this time—as she moved toward the shower stall.

The shower curtain rustled faintly as she nudged it open, her movements cautious but deliberate. I really need to get that door fixed and put back in. She sniffed at the tiles, her fingers brushing lightly against the cool surface. Her pink eyes narrowed as she studied the drain, her tail curling faintly at the tip.

“It’s just a shower,” I said, leaning against the sink. “You’ve seen it before, remember?”

She glanced at me briefly, her expression unreadable, before turning back to the stall. The faintest ripple of tension crossed her posture, but she didn’t bolt or growl. Instead, she crouched slightly, her fingers trailing over the edge of the stall’s threshold.

“You’re braver than you look,” I said lamely, trying to be encouraging.

Her ears twitched, but she didn’t look up.

When the cleaning was done, I stepped back to admire my handiwork—or at least the improved state of the room. The tiles gleamed faintly under the harsh light, and the lingering scent of mildew had been replaced by the sharper tang of cleaning solution. Just as bothersome on the nose, but at least it was clean.

She stayed by the shower, her posture relaxed but not quite at ease. Her pink eyes met themselves in the mirror again, then lingered on me, before she straightened and padded back toward the door.

“Not bad, huh?” I asked, tossing the cloth into the hamper.

Her tail swished in a slow arc, brushing against the frame as she stepped into the hallway. I followed her back to the living room, feeling a faint sense of accomplishment after a day of chores. The apartment felt cleaner, brighter, more like home as the day stretched into early evening. The chores were mostly done and the faint ache in my back was a reminder that I’d been too long without simple routines like this.

I settled at the small dining table near the window, its surface a mix of wood grain and faint scuff marks from years of wear. The chair groaned slightly as I leaned back, letting out a soft sigh.

She lingered a few steps away, her tail flicking lazily as she watched me. Her hands rested lightly at her sides, her posture neither tense nor relaxed, as though she was still deciding whether the room was worth her trust.

“Just sitting down for a bit,” I said, pulling a battered notebook from the edge of the table. “Nothing exciting.”

Her ears twitched, but she didn’t move closer.

I flipped the notebook open to a blank page, smoothing it out with my palm. The pen I grabbed from the counter felt heavier than it should have, a faint reminder of how long it had been since I’d sat down for something as mundane as this.

“Groceries,” I muttered under my breath, scrawling the word at the top of the page.

The fridge hadn’t exactly been empty, but the odds and ends I’d thrown together earlier weren’t going to last. I jotted down eggs, bread, coffee, vegetables—basic staples that felt more like suggestions than an actual plan.

Her quiet steps caught my attention, and I glanced up to see her edging closer, her pink eyes darting between me and the notebook. She stopped just short of the table, her tail flicking once before curling loosely around her legs.

“You want to add something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She tilted her head, her ears twitching faintly.

“Didn’t think so,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Her gaze lingered on the notebook for a moment longer before she stepped back, her hooves clicking softly against the floor as she retreated to the couch.

“Suit yourself,” I said, adding a few more items to the list.

The faint gurgling of the heater dueled the fridge humming in the background as I tapped the pen against the edge of the notebook, the weight of the day settling in around me.

The succubus lounged on the couch, her eyes following my every move as I shuffled around the kitchen table. Her tail flicked intermittently over the armrest, the rhythm uneven, restless.

“We’re out of everything,” I murmured, glancing at the pantry stock and grocery lists I’d been scribbling on all evening. “I need to make a quick grocery run.”

Her ears twitched, and her tail froze mid-sway. I didn’t look up from the paper, but I could feel her attention sharpening, her posture shifting just slightly.

“It won’t take long,” I added, ripping the grocery page out of the notebook, folding the list neatly and tucking it into my jacket pocket. “Maybe an hour, tops.”

I grabbed my keys from the counter and turned toward the door, but before I could take a step, a sharp clatter of hooves sounded against the floor.

“Whoa—hey,” I said, spinning around just as she closed the distance between us.

She reached me so fast I barely had time to process it. Her hands gripped the edge of my jacket, her eyes blazing bright pink with something between panic and anger. Her tail lashed sharply behind her, and she let out a low, guttural growl that made my chest tighten.

“It’s just groceries,” I said softly, my voice steady but firm. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her grip didn’t loosen, and she leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing as the growl deepened.

“Easy,” I murmured, raising my hands slightly in a calming gesture. “What’s this about? You don’t like me leaving?”

Her response came as another growl, softer this time, but no less intense. Her claws weren’t out, but the raw energy in her body was impossible to miss—tense, coiled, desperate.

“You’re worried something will happen,” I guessed, keeping my voice low. “That I won’t come back.”

I hesitated, weighing my options. She wouldn’t let me leave easily—not like this. And forcing her to stay behind would only deepen the cracks in whatever fragile trust we’d managed to build. Her tail flicked sharply, her grip on my jacket tightening for a moment before relaxing slightly.

I sighed, nodding. “Okay. All right. What if you come with me?”

Her ears twitched, and her eyes softened just enough to let me know she was listening.

“We’ll stick together,” I said gently. “The whole time. You won’t have to worry, and I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

She tilted her head, the growling subsiding into a low, questioning hum.

“It’ll be fine,” I continued. “Quick trip in and out. You can even help me pick stuff out if you want.”

Her tail flicked again, but the tension in her shoulders eased a fraction. Finally, she nodded, her grip loosening as she took a half-step back.

“Good,” I said, giving her a faint smile. “Let me grab something for you.”

I pulled a heavy black cloak from the closet and draped it over my arm before stepping back into the living room. She stood near the couch, her tail curling loosely around one leg as she watched me approach.

“This should help,” I said, holding the cloak open. “The lights, the noise... this’ll make it easier.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she studied the fabric. Finally, she stepped forward, her movements deliberate but cautious, and let me drape it over her shoulders.

The hood slipped low over her face, casting her features in shadow, despite her unfortunately very obvious horns. She fumbled briefly with the clasp before pausing, the soft glow of her eyes darting toward mine.

“Hold on,” I said, stepping closer to fasten it for her. “There we go.”

Her ears twitched, and her tail swished faintly beneath the hem of the cloak. She reached up to adjust the hood, her fingers brushing the edges with a hint of uncertainty.

“You look fine,” I said softly. “Ready?”

She gave a faint huff, her tail flicking once as she nodded.

---

The streets were quieter than I’d expected, the evening air cool and still. Most people were finishing up their commutes or settling in for the night, leaving the sidewalks sparsely populated. It was a small blessing—less noise, fewer stares.

The succubus walked close to my side, her hood pulled low over her face. Her tail occasionally peeked out, flicking against the ground in short, sharp movements. Her eyes darted to every sound—a car engine, a distant laugh, the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Each noise made her tense, her shoulders hunching as though bracing for an attack.

“You’re doing so well,” I said gently, glancing at her, "Just a little farther."

Her steps quickened slightly, her hooves clicking softly against the pavement. I adjusted my pace to match hers, keeping one hand near my side for her just in case.

When the grocery store came into view, its neon sign glowing brightly in the dark, she slowed. Her tail stilled, curling close to her legs as the automatic doors slid open with a faint hiss.

The wash of fluorescent light spilling onto the sidewalk made her flinch. She let out a low, almost imperceptible growl, her ears flattening slightly beneath the hood.

“It’s just a store,” I said softly, stopping to face her. “Nothing dangerous. You’ve got this.”

Her eyes flicked toward the entrance, then back to me. The faint growling stopped, replaced by a hesitant huff as her tail uncurled slightly.

“I’m right here,” I said, holding out a hand. “Stay close, and we’ll be out before you know it.”

Her claws extended, twitched against the cloak and disappeared again, but after a long moment, she stepped forward, her movements hesitant. She didn’t take my hand, but she stayed close enough that her shoulder brushed against mine as we walked through the doors.

The bright lights inside the store were an immediate assault. The hum of the overhead fixtures buzzed faintly in the air, mixing with the muffled chatter of customers and the occasional beep of a register.

The succubus tensed beside me, her tail swishing anxiously beneath the cloak. Her eyes darted to every sound, her body taut as though bracing for an attack.

“Hey,” I said softly, my eyes seeking hers, “You’re okay. Just stay with me.”

She didn’t respond, but her breathing slowed a fraction, her tail settling into a faint, jerky sway. I guided us toward the produce aisle—the quietest part of the store. The air was cooler here, the shelves lined neatly with rows of fruits and vegetables.

“See anything you like?” I asked, picking up a basket.

She didn’t answer immediately, her eyes scanning the displays as her tail flicked faintly. Finally, she stepped closer to the apples, reaching out to pick one up. She turned it over in her hands, her movements careful and deliberate, before glancing at me.

“Good choice,” I said, holding out a bag.

She dropped the apple inside, then reached for another, her posture relaxing slightly as the familiar rhythm of the task seemed to calm her. I let her choose at her own pace, adding a few more apples before moving on. She followed me closely, her eyes scanning the shelves as we passed through the quieter aisles. Occasionally, her gaze lingered on something—a bag of rice, a box of tea, some soda cans—and I’d add it to the basket without comment.

Her tail swayed faintly beneath the cloak, a subtle rhythm that told me she was less anxious, settling into the task. She stayed close as we navigated the maze of shelves, her eyes still darting about but her posture slowly easing as the noise became a steady backdrop instead of an active threat.

But the relative calm didn’t last.

The store grew louder as we approached the busier sections, the chatter of shoppers and the clatter of carts blending into a dull roar. A sharp beep from one of the registers made her flinch, and she stopped in her tracks, her tail curling tightly against her leg.

“Hey,” I said softly, stepping in front of her.

Her eyes snapped to mine, wide bright, and I could feel the tension radiating off her. She didn’t growl this time, but her breathing quickened, her shoulders stiffening beneath the cloak.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, keeping my tone low and even. “You’re safe. No one here’s going to hurt you.”

Her gaze lingered on mine, searching for something. Reassurance, maybe. Certainty.

“You've been doing so well',” I added, stepping closer. “I’m right here. Just focus on me.”

Slowly, her breathing began to steady, the tight coil of her tail loosening slightly. She gave a faint, uncertain huff but nodded, moving closer to my side.

“That’s it,” I said with a small smile. “Let’s finish up and get out of here.”

By the time we reached the freezer aisle, the basket was nearly full. I paused to grab a small tub of my favorite ice cream - chocolate with caramel swirl - carefully tucking it beneath the other items in the basket. She didn’t notice, her focus fixed on the faint mist curling up from the open freezer doors.

Her posture was more relaxed now, her tail swaying faintly as she reached out to touch one of the frosty edges. The cool air didn’t seem to bother her, and her eyes narrowed in quiet curiosity as she studied the glass fronts of the freezers.

“We’re almost done,” I said, steering us toward the registers. “Just one more stop.”

She gave a small, thoughtful huff, her movements steady as she followed me.

The noise at the registers was overwhelming—constant beeps, loud chatter, and the metallic clatter of coins dropping into tills. The succubus stiffened again, her tail curling sharply as she pulled the hood lower over her face.

I stepped ahead, shielding her from the curious glances of other shoppers as I unloaded the basket onto the conveyor belt.

“That’ll be thirty-four fifty,” the cashier said, her tone polite but wary as her eyes landed on the succubus' horns poking the hood of her cloak.

I handed over the money quickly, packing the groceries into bags while keeping one eye on her. Her eyes darted nervously between me and the exit, her tail flicking with faint, jerky movements beneath the cloak.

“All done,” I said, holding up the bags. “Let’s go.”

She followed me without hesitation, her steps quicker now as we stepped back out into the cool, quiet night.

Outside, the night air wrapped around us like a soft balm, washing away the harsh noise and fluorescent glare of the grocery store. The succubus stayed close, her pace faster than before, as though she couldn’t get away from the store fast enough. Her head turned back once more, lingering on the entrance with a disapproving expression, before turning around with an indignant huff.

“You did really well,” I said, adjusting the bags in my hands. “I know that wasn’t easy, but you handled it.”

She tilted her head slightly, her ears twitching beneath the hood. The stiffness in her shoulders eased, and her tail gave a faint, slow sway.

“See?” I added with a small grin. “Told you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

She let out a soft huff, the corner of her mouth twitching upward for the briefest moment—a hint of acknowledgment, maybe even pride.

---

Back at the apartment, she stepped inside first, pulling the hood down as the door closed behind us. Her horns gleamed faintly in the dim light, and her tail curled briefly before flicking out again as she draped the cloak over the back of the couch.

I set the bags on the counter, unpacking them methodically while she perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes following my every move.

“Want a snack?” I asked, holding up one of the apples after washing it.

She nodded, reaching for it without hesitation. Her hands were steady now, her movements smooth as she took the fruit and bit into it with a sharp tearing sound.

“Wait here,” I said after a moment, sliding the hidden tub of ice cream out of the bag and tucking it behind me along with two spoons as I finished putting away the groceries.

When I turned back, the apple was gone, the core resting neatly on the table. She tilted her head slightly, her ears perking faintly as I approached with a grin.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I said, revealing the tub of ice cream.

Her eyes widened slightly, and her tail swished against the cushion as she leaned forward, curiosity lighting up her expression.

“It’s called ice cream,” I said, sitting down across from her. “Cold, sweet... I think you’ll like it.”

She took the tub carefully, turning it in her hands as though studying every detail. Her tail flicked against the couch cushions, a subtle rhythm of interest as I handed her a spoon and peeled back the lid.

“Go ahead,” I said, motioning for her to try, "Just don't eat too fast."

Her first bite was slow, cautious. Her eyes narrowed slightly as the cold hit her tongue, but then they softened, and she made an approving hum. She took another bite, and another, quicker this time—and that’s when it hit her.

She froze, her ears twitching sharply as her hand shot to her head. A low, pained whimper escaped her throat, and her tail curled tightly against her leg. She blinked, staring at the spoon as though it had betrayed her.

“Brain freeze,” I said quickly, moving closer. “You ate it too fast.”

Her eyes snapped to me, narrowed and accusing, as though I were somehow responsible for her predicament.

“Here,” I said gently, placing my hands on either side of her head. “Let me help.”

She didn’t pull away, her ears twitching as I began massaging her temples in slow, careful circles. Her breathing steadied, and the tension in her posture melted.

“Better?” I murmured after a moment.

She hummed softly, leaning into my hands as her eyes fluttered closed. When I started to pull away, her hand shot up, brushing against mine to stop me. Her gaze met mine, and though she didn’t say a word, the message was clear: don’t stop.

“Demanding, aren’t you?” I said with a small chuckle, resuming the massage.

Her tail flicked sharply—almost playfully— against the back of the couch, and she let out another faint hum that sounded just a little too close to purring, her posture relaxing fully as she leaned into my touch.

When she finally let me stop, she returned to the ice cream, eating it more slowly this time. Her tail swished lazily behind her, and every so often, her eyes flicked toward me, when she thought I wasn't looking, her expression soft and unguarded.

“There you go,” I said with a smile, leaning back in my chair, deciding against trying to get any of the ice cream myself.

The rest of the evening passed in peaceful quiet. She stayed on the couch, her posture calm and relaxed, while I tidied up the last of the kitchen. By the time I sat down again, she was curled beneath the blanket, her tail peeking out from the covers and her eyes half-closed.

“You did well today,” I said softly, resting my head against the back of the chair.

Her ears twitched faintly, and her tail gave a slow, deliberate flick, but she didn’t open her eyes.

The quiet between us felt different now—warmer, less fragile.

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the electronics. The succubus lay curled on the couch, her tail tucked neatly beneath her as she rested against the cushions. Her eyes were half-lidded but watchful, tracking me as I moved about the room.

I glanced at the time, the glowing numbers casting a faint reflection on the kitchen tiles. “It’s getting late,” I said softly.

Her ears twitched, but she didn’t move, her tail flicking once in lazy acknowledgment.

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” I added, rising from my chair. “Then maybe call it a night.”

I expected no response, but as I stepped toward the bathroom, the soft clatter of hooves against the floor made me pause. I turned to find her trailing behind me, her posture relaxed but curious.

“Coming to supervise?” I asked lightly, grabbing my toothbrush.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as they flicked to the sink. The bathroom light was bright, casting harsh shadows against the tiled walls. She lingered in the doorway, her tail swaying faintly as I brushed my teeth, watching my movements like they were part of some elaborate ritual she didn’t yet understand.

When I finished, I reached for her toothbrush—the one I’d bought earlier but hadn’t yet convinced her to use. “Your turn,” I said, holding it up.

Her ears flattened slightly, and her tail swished sharply behind her. She didn’t move from the doorway, her gaze flicking between me and the toothbrush with obvious suspicion.

“It’s not dangerous,” I said with a small grin, wiggling the brush for effect. “It’s just for cleaning your teeth. See?”

I mimed brushing again, exaggerating the motions. Her expression didn’t change, but the annoyed twitch of her tail told me she wasn’t entirely buying it. When had I gotten so good at reading that?

“Come on,” I urged gently. “It’s important. You eat, right? This keeps your teeth strong for that.”

She huffed, her claws flexing briefly before retracting as she leaned slightly against the doorframe.

“Fine,” I said with a mock sigh, wetting the toothbrush before putting some toothpaste on it. “Guess I’ll do it for you.”

She didn’t resist when I stepped closer, though her eyes narrowed in quiet protest. “Open up,” I said softly. For a long moment, I thought she might refuse, her lips pressing together in a stubborn line. Then, with a soft, annoyed growl, she relented, opening her mouth just enough for me to begin.

“Good girl,” I murmured, carefully brushing her teeth. She flinched at first, her body tensing as the bristles moved over her sharp canines. Her tail lashed once, but she didn’t pull away, her eyes glaring as though she were enduring some great indignity.

“See?” I said, my tone light. “Not so bad.”

She made a low, disgruntled sound, her claws twitching faintly against the frame of the door. By the time I finished, her posture had relaxed slightly, though her expression remained as unimpressed as before.

“All done,” I said, rinsing the toothbrush. “Easy, right?”

She stepped over, spat into the sink when I mimed it, and then huffed again, adjusting the blanket draped over her shoulders before stepping back into the hall.

I shook my head, catching myself smiling after her.

---

“I’m going to shower,” I said, “Won’t be long.”

That got her attention. She stopped in her tracks and turned around abruptly, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket as her tail curled tightly around her leg.

“You’ll be fine,” I added over my shoulder, “Just wait in the bedroom and relax.”

The clatter of her hooves against the floor stopped me in my tracks. I turned to find her standing behind me, her posture stiff, her gaze darting between me and the bathroom door.

“You don’t like closed doors,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

Her tail lashed once, sharply, but she didn’t move or growl.

“Okay,” I said finally, holding up my hands. “I’ll leave the door open. No closed doors.”

Her posture eased slightly, her tail swaying behind her in a slower, steadier rhythm.

“But you’re staying outside,” I added.

The swaying stopped. Her claws extended and twitched against the blanket, and she tilted her head, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly.

“You can wait out there,” I repeated, “I’ll be quick.”

She stepped forward instead, her hooves clicking softly against the tile as she crossed the threshold, shrugging the blanket off her shoulders.

“This isn’t exactly a spectator sport,” I muttered, pulling my shirt over my head.

She tilted her head slightly, her claws retracting as her gaze drifted toward my chest and then the shower. Her tail twitched once, softly slapping against the doorframe behind her.

“I mean it,” I added, my tone firmer now. “Stay put.”

She hummed softly, a low, noncommittal sound, before taking another deliberate step closer.

I sighed, shaking my head as I stripped down and stepped into the shower. The warm spray hit my shoulders, soothing the tension in my muscles. For a brief moment, I let myself relax, the sound of the water drowning out everything else.

But the faint rustle of movement behind the curtain pulled me back into focus.

“Don’t even think about it,” I called over my shoulder.

The response was once again the sound of hooves against tile.

“Seriously,” I added, turning slightly. “This isn’t—”

Before I could finish, she stepped fully into the shower. The water hit her head and shoulders, soaking her shirt completely as it plastered itself to her ribs. Her pants bunched awkwardly around her knees, sagging as they soaked up water.

“This isn’t what we agreed on,” I muttered, bracing a hand against the wall.

She tilted her head, her expression unreadable as her claws flexed faintly at her sides.

“Come here,” I said finally, rubbing my hand over my face. “You can’t stay like this.”

Her shirt was soaked, clinging to her frame in a way that made every sharp angle and ridge of her ribs visible. She shifted slightly, her hooves clicking softly against the tile as I reached for the hem.

“If you have to shower with me we're doing it properly, so arms up,” I warned, tugging gently at the fabric.

She huffed softly but raised her arms just enough for me to work. The shirt stuck as I pulled it upward, catching briefly on her horns before I managed to free her completely. Her pale skin gleamed faintly under the bathroom light, the raining water making her seem even smaller than before.

The thought made my chest tighten. She looked so fragile, so out of place in this sterile space. The sight made me falter for a moment, my hands stilling as a faint heat rose to my cheeks.

“Now the pants,” I said quickly, my voice quieter.

Her tail curled slightly around her leg, and her claws flexed again, but she didn’t move to stop me.

I crouched, my knees brushing the wet tile as I reached for her waistband. The damp fabric stuck stubbornly, clinging to her legs as I worked it down.

Her tail flicked once, brushing against my shoulder as I freed one hoof, then the other. The intimacy of it all hit me suddenly, and I felt the blush creep back to my face.

I glanced up briefly, catching her watching me with quiet intensity. Her expression was calm, her posture steady, but something in her gaze made my chest feel tight.

I looked away quickly, clearing my throat as I stood. “There. That’s better.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, her expression soft but unreadable. Then, with a quiet hum, she stepped closer.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “What are you—”

Her fingers brushed lightly against my arm, her touch hesitant but insistent. When our skin met, the glow of the runes etched across my skin flared softly in response, and the faint pull of her magic began.

“You want to feed,” I murmured, realizing it almost immediately.

She didn’t answer, but her tail swished happily as she stepped even closer. Her hand moved upward, tracing the glowing lines across my chest. Her claws retracted fully, and her fingers brushed against the soft curve of my breast.

The motion was deliberate, and my breath caught as the faint heat of her magic deepened. Her touch lingered, tentative but searching, before her hand began to trail downward.

“Stop,” I said firmly, catching her wrist before she could move any further.

Her tail stilled, and she tilted her head slightly, her gaze meeting mine. There was no malice in her expression, only curiosity and quiet insistence.

“This isn’t happening,” I said, my voice soft but unwavering. “I’ll let you feed on my energy the way you have been, but that’s all.”

She hesitated, her claws extending and retracting before she stepped back.

“Here,” I murmured, guiding her hand to my neck. “This is enough.”

Her lips brushed against my collarbone a moment later, the pull of her magic intensifying as her hands rested lightly on my shoulders. The glow of the runes flared again, spreading warmth through my skin as she fed.

The connection wasn’t as frantic as before—there was a rhythm to it now, measured and controlled. Her claws stayed retracted, and her breathing was steady as she worked.

She hummed happily, the sound vibrating on my skin as her magic ebbed and flowed. The warmth spread outward from the point of contact, soothing in a way that left me both relaxed and wary.

The glow of my runes faded as her magic ebbed, leaving a lingering hum beneath my skin. She pulled back slightly, her lips brushing my neck one last time before retreating. Her breath was steady, calm, and her tail swayed faintly behind her.

I exhaled slowly, letting the tension in my chest unwind. “That’s enough,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady despite the quiet thrumming in my pulse.

She tilted her head, watching me with the same quiet intensity as before. Her tail flicked once, a slow, deliberate motion that ruffled the shower curtain behind her, before she glanced toward the water still cascading between us.

I exhaled sharply, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. “Good. Now we actually need to wash off.”

Her ears twitched slightly, her posture shifting as she stepped back into the spray. She didn’t move to grab the soap, her tail swishing lazily behind her as though daring me to make the next move.

I sighed, reaching for the bar of soap. “You can’t just turn every shower into your personal buffet,” I muttered, rubbing the soap between my hands to work up a lather.

Her lips quirked faintly at the words, an almost playful tilt that made something in my chest tighten.

“Here,” I said, handing her the soap. “Try it yourself.”

She took it after a moment, her claws brushing lightly against my palm. Her hands moved tentatively over her arms, her tail flicking in uneven arcs as she tried to work the soap over her skin.

I rinsed off quickly, scrubbing the remnants of sweat and grime from my chest, but my attention kept drifting back to her. The way her claws flexed hesitantly against the slippery bar, the faint flicker of frustration in her expression when the soap slipped from her grip—it was hard not to feel a pang of something deeper.

When the soap fell to the floor with a wet plop, she let out a soft, exasperated growl.

“Let me help,” I said gently, stepping forward.

Her claws flexed briefly before retracting, and she tilted her head forward slightly, giving me silent permission to take over. I picked up the soap and worked it over her shoulders first, careful to keep my movements steady and firm. Her skin was cooler than I’d expected, the bones beneath her shoulders too sharp.

She stayed still, her posture rigid at first, but as the water washed away the lather, her breathing evened out. Her tail swayed faintly, brushing lightly against my leg as I moved downward, lathering the soap over her arms and sides.

“You’re thin,” I murmured, the words slipping out without thinking.

She didn’t respond, her claws retracting fully as her tail stilled briefly.

I continued working, the lather trailing down her back in soft rivulets. When I reached the space just below her shoulders, my hands brushed against the twin scars there—rough patches of irritated, barely healed skin where her wings had once been.

She flinched.

Her tail lashed sharply against my leg like a whip, the motion quick and instinctive, and a guttural growl rose in her throat. Her shoulders hunched slightly, her claws twitching as though she were ready to lash out.

“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, my hands freezing in place.

Her breathing quickened, and her tail flicked again, harder this time, whipping against the wall with a faint thud.

“It’s okay,” I added softly, keeping my voice steady. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her claws flexed again, her posture tense and wary. For a moment, I thought she might bolt—or worse, lash out.

“You’re safe,” I said, stepping back slightly to give her space. “I promise. I’ll be more careful.”

Her breathing slowed after a few seconds, though the sharpness in her posture didn’t ease entirely.

“I know it’s hard,” I said, my voice low. “But it’s just me. And I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her tail flicked once more, slower this time, and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

I reached for the shampoo, holding it up as though asking for permission. “Can I finish?”

She hesitated, her claws twitching faintly before she nodded.

“Okay,” I said softly, working the shampoo into my hands. “Tilt your head back for me.”

She tilted her head slightly, her expression flickering with faint confusion.

“Like this,” I said, tilting my own head to demonstrate.

Her ears twitched, and after a moment, she mimicked the motion, her horns glinting faintly under the spray. I moved carefully, my fingers working through her hair with deliberate care. The strands were rough and tangled, but she didn’t resist as I smoothed them out, my nails scraping lightly against her scalp.

Her tail swayed faintly, the motion slow and rhythmic, as though the attention soothed her. But the closeness of it all—the warmth of the water, the soft hum of her breathing, the faint flick of her tail against my leg—made my chest tighten again.

I tried to focus on the task, on the mechanics of washing her hair, but the memory of her earlier advances crept back in unbidden. The way her hands had lingered on my chest, testing the boundaries I’d set, and the heat that lingered now from her touch.

It wasn’t just her actions—it was my reaction to them. The conflict tugged at me, a quiet ache I couldn’t quite suppress.

“You make everything complicated,” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than her. I hadn't dared wash more of her than her back upper body, telling myself it was because I didn't want to intrude and not because I was too cowardly to address my growing feelings.

Her tail flicked sharply, brushing against my leg again, and the faintest sound escaped her—a soft, rumbling hum that felt almost amused.

“Stay still,” I said, exhaling sharply as I rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

She obeyed, tilting her head further to let the water cascade down her horns and shoulders.

When I finished, I stepped back, grabbing the towel from the sink. “Done. Let’s get out before the water runs cold.”

She turned slightly, her tail swaying lazily as she tilted her head toward me. The faint quirk of her lips had returned, her expression calm but faintly amused as if she'd read my earlier thoughts.

“What?” I asked, grabbing the towel. “You don’t get to look smug after making this whole thing more complicated than it needed to be.”

She held my eyes just long enough to get uncomfortable as we continued dripping water, before she huffed and nodded, seemingly satisfied with whatever she'd found.

I reached past her for the towel hanging nearby, draping it over her shoulders. “Let’s get you dry,” I said softly.

I worked carefully, moving from her hair to her horns to her shoulders, down her arms, and along her back. The closeness was unavoidable, but I kept my focus steady, determined not to let the lingering heat in my chest distract me.

“You’re doing fine,” I murmured as I dried her sides, careful not to linger on the sharp lines of her ribs.

When I moved to her tail, she swayed slightly, the motion faint but noticeable. Her breathing slowed, her claws retracting completely as I finished.

“There,” I said, stepping back. “All dry.”

I quickly dried myself off with my own towel while the succubus watched through hooded eyes.

“Come on,” I said, motioning toward the door. “Let’s get you into something clean.”

She followed me into the bedroom, her hooves clicking softly against the floor as the towel draped loosely over her shoulders. I rummaged through drawers, pulling out a shirt and a pair of pajama shorts.

“These should work,” I said, holding them out to her.

Her fingers brushed mine briefly as she took the clothes. Without a sound, she turned toward the bed, her tail swaying lightly behind her.

“You can change here,” I said, grabbing my own sleepwear from another drawer. Turning my back to her as if we hadn't spent the last twenty minutes together in the shower, I added with a faint sigh, “I’ll give you some space.”

The rustling of fabric filled the room as we both dressed. When I turned back, she was adjusting the shirt over her frame. It hung loosely, the hem brushing just above her knees, and the pajama shorts—probably Vivi's, considering their size—fit snugly around her narrow hips. Her tail moved lazily in the air as she glanced at me, her posture calm but watchful.

“Not bad,” I said with a faint smile. “Better than soaked clothes, right?”

She huffed softly, crawling onto the far side of the bed. She curled up there, her legs tucked beneath her, the blanket draped loosely over her shoulders.

I grabbed the blanket I’d used the night before and dropped it back onto the floor beside the bed. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.

“You’ve got the bed,” I said. “I’ll sleep here again.”

Her ears twitched, and she turned sharply, fixing me with a look that made me pause. Her claws didn’t extend, but the low sound she made in her throat carried enough weight to tell me she wasn’t happy with my decision.

“I’m fine down here,” I added, smoothing out the blanket. “You need the bed more than me."

She sat up slightly, her tail curling tighter around her legs before uncoiling again. Her huff was sharper this time, punctuated by the faintest growl, and she shifted to face me more directly, her expression firm.

“What?” I asked, meeting her gaze.

Her claws twitched briefly, retracting again as she let out another low huff and flicked the edge of the blanket toward the empty side of the bed.

“You want me to sleep up here again?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She didn’t growl this time, but her tail curled tightly around her legs again, and she made a quiet sound—less a demand and more an insistent suggestion.

“It’s not necessary,” I said carefully. “I’m fine—”

She cut me off with a sharp exhalation, her tail swishing once against the mattress as her gaze narrowed.

“You’re not letting this go, are you?” I muttered, shaking my head.

The small sound she made—something between a huff and a rumble—was answer enough.

“Fine,” I said, tossing the floor blanket onto the chair. “But don’t expect me to give up the edge of the bed.”

I climbed onto the far side, careful to keep some distance between us. The warmth of the blankets and her faint scent—soap mingled with something softer, like wildflowers, maybe—wrapped around me as I stretched out.

“Happy now?” I muttered.

She huffed again, settling back against her side of the bed.

The quiet of the room stretched long after I’d closed my eyes. Her breathing was slow but not entirely even, and her tail didn’t stay still for long. I could feel the faint shift of the mattress every time she adjusted her position, restless and uncertain.

“You’re supposed to be the one who needs space,” I murmured.

She let out a quiet growl, the sound less angry and more like a rebuke.

“Yeah, I get it,” I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “You don’t want me on the floor, but you also can’t settle. Make up your mind.”

The sound she made this time was closer to a sigh, her claws retracting as she shifted slightly closer.

I turned my head to glance at her. Her legs were still tucked beneath her, her tail curling loosely around her ankles, but she was leaning ever so slightly in my direction.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, rolling onto my back.

Her tail brushed against my leg briefly, tentative but deliberate, and her huff carried a note of triumph that made me sigh again.

---

At some point, I must have drifted off.

A faint noise pulled me back, soft and sharp, like a choked gasp. My eyes snapped open, and I turned toward her instinctively.

She was sitting upright now, her claws shredding the edge of the blanket as she picked at it, her tail coiled around her legs. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, and her ears twitched sharply at the sound of my movement.

“Another nightmare?” I asked softly.

She didn’t look at me, her claws twitching briefly as her tail tightened around her legs.

“I know what they’re about,” I said, keeping my voice low. “The basement. The chains. The cultists.”

Her tail uncurled suddenly, striking against the bed with a sharp thump, and she let out a low growl. It wasn’t directed at me—I could tell that much—but the sound still carried a weight that made my chest tighten.

“I’m not trying to make it worse,” I added quickly. “I just... I know what it’s like to wake up like that.”

Her breathing hitched, and she glanced at me for the first time, her eyes flickering with something unguarded.

“You don’t have to sit in it,” I said softly. “You’re here now. You’re safe.”

She made a low, guttural sound—not quite a growl, but something that carried the weight of her frustration—and shifted slightly closer.

“Come here,” I murmured after a moment. “If you want to.”

She hesitated, her tail twitching faintly, before inching toward me.

Her tail brushed against my leg as she moved closer, her claws retracted fully now as she stopped just short of leaning into me. Her breathing had steadied some, but the tension in her frame lingered, a quiet hum beneath the surface.

“You’re not making this easy,” I muttered softly, sitting up slightly to give her room.

She huffed again, the sound faint but insistent, before pressing herself against my side. Her head tilted briefly, almost hitting me with her horns, and then she rested it against my shoulder, her small frame fitting neatly into the space beside me.

For a moment, I froze.

Her trust was... startling. Deliberate. She wasn’t forcing herself into my space—she was offering herself into mine, and the weight of it made my chest tighten.

“Not used to this, are you?” I asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Her tail swished faintly, brushing against my leg in what felt like agreement.

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Me neither.”

I hesitated, staring at the far wall. “Not since...”

The words caught in my throat as the memories flashed behind my eyes—sharp and vivid, too close to the surface. Chains. A different room. Someone else.

The quiet hum she made pulled me back abruptly, her head shifting against my shoulder as she pressed closer. Her claws flexed briefly against the blanket but didn’t extend, and the sound she made this time was softer, almost soothing.

I exhaled slowly, my thoughts snapping back to the present. “Thanks,” I murmured, unsure if she understood but meaning it all the same.

Her breathing evened out as I adjusted the blanket around us, the warmth of her presence settling into something steady. My arm rested lightly over her shoulders, a natural response to the way she leaned against me.

“You know,” I said softly, breaking the silence again, “you’ve got this way of making everything complicated.”

She hummed faintly, the sound carrying a note of amusement, and her tail curled loosely around my leg.

“I’m serious,” I added, glancing down at her. “You push boundaries like it’s a game. Do you even realize how hard you’re making this for me?”

Her ear twitched, and she made another small noise, quieter this time but no less deliberate.

“I’m trying,” I murmured. “To give you space. To figure out what you need. But you don’t exactly make it easy to...” I trailed off, shaking my head.

Her tail brushed against my leg again, her breathing steady now, calm.

“I guess that’s just who you are,” I said finally, letting my head rest lightly against the wall. “Complicated.”

The faintest sound escaped her, a cross between a hum and a huff, and her claws flexed lightly against the blanket in a way that felt almost playful.

Minutes passed, the room growing quieter as the heater kicked off. Her weight against me was light but grounding, her tail still now, her breathing fully relaxed.

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the moment pull me closer to sleep.

It wasn’t perfect, and I still didn’t have answers to half the questions spinning in my head. They could wait another day.

---

When I woke again later that night, she was still curled against me. Her head had shifted slightly, resting now against my chest, her tail draped loosely over my leg and her horns still only barely not poking me. My arm had tightened around her at some point, pulling her closer, though I didn’t remember making the motion.

The sight of her, so small and vulnerable in the dim light, made my chest ache with something I didn’t entirely understand.

“Complicated,” I murmured under my breath as I finally remembered to turn the light out.

She shifted faintly, her ear twitching at the sound, but didn’t wake.

I let my eyes close again, the warmth of her presence enough to ease me back into sleep.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and muted, casting long shadows across the room. I blinked awake, the warmth pressed against my side grounding me before the haze of sleep fully lifted.

She was tucked against me, her breathing steady and soft. At some point during the night, she had shifted even closer, partially laying on me with her tail draped over my leg. Her horns pressed lightly into my shoulder, and the oversized shirt I’d given her had ridden up slightly, exposing her thin legs.

I stayed still for a moment, unwilling to disturb her. She looked so calm like this, so unlike the wary, guarded creature I’d pulled out of that basement. It was a rare moment of calm, and I wasn’t sure how long it would last.

“Good morning,” I murmured when I eventually felt her stir, my voice low so as not to startle her.

Her ears twitched at the sound, and her eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. For a moment, she simply looked at me, her gaze soft but searching. Then, as though realizing how close she was, she blushed and let her head sink back onto my chest, her tail brushing against my leg before curling loosely around her own.

“Wish I could stay in bed,” I said, gently rolling her off me as I sat up. “But I've got things to do today.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through my hair, which had gotten just long enough that I’d need to shave it again soon. The low hum of the heater was the only sound, the room quiet and still. But the moment my feet touched the floor, her tail uncurled, and she sat up sharply. Her claws flexed briefly against the blanket, her gaze snapping toward me with a faint growl.

“Easy,” I said, holding up a hand. “I’m not going far. Just getting ready for the day.”

She didn’t relax, her tail swaying in short, sharp arcs as her gaze followed me to the dresser. I grabbed a clean shirt and a pair of cargo pants, throwing them on quickly before glancing back at her. She was still perched on the edge of the bed, her posture tense and her claws retracted but twitching faintly.

“Workday,” I said, pulling on my boots. “I’ve got meetings and drills at HQ. It’s nothing dangerous.”

Her growl deepened slightly, and her tail lashed once.

“I’ll be back,” I added, crossing the room to crouch in front of her. “It’s just for a few hours. You’ll be fine here.”

Her breathing quickened, and her claws flexed fully now, digging faintly into the blanket.

“Hey,” I said softly, reaching for her hand. “You’re safe. No one’s coming in here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

She pulled her hand back with a sharp exhale, her gaze darting toward the door. I sighed. “You don’t want me to leave.”

Her ears flattened slightly, and she let out another low growl, her hands holding onto my hips.

“It’s just for a few hours,” I said, my tone steady. “Meetings, drills. Nothing dangerous.”

Her claws twitched against my sides, though they didn’t extend far, and she continued growling and rumbling.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” I added.

Her breathing quickened, and she let out another growl, this one sharper, her tail striking against the mattress with a soft thump.

“I can't get you to stay, can I?” I murmured. She huffed again, louder this time, and her claws flexed briefly before retracting.

“Fine,” I said, exhaling slowly. “You can come with me. But you’re staying in my quarters at HQ. No wandering, no interacting with anyone for now. Just... wait there until I’m done.”

Her tail flicked once more, slower now, and the low rumble she made in her throat felt almost like agreement.

"You'll have to wear something else though, you can’t wear pajamas all day," I declared as I wiggled out of her grasp.

I crossed the room to the closet, sliding the door open with a faint creak. The collection of clothes inside was a mess—barely organized work uniforms, shirts that didn’t fit anymore, and the odd jacket I’d kept for no real reason.

“Gotta find something that fits somewhat,” I muttered, pulling out a loose shirt and a pair of drawstring pants. “Maybe these.”

Her ears perked slightly, and she let out a soft huff as I turned back toward her.

“They’ll fit better than those shorts,” I said, holding the clothes out to her.

She hesitated, her claws again flexing before retracting as she reached for the bundle.

“Go ahead,” I said, stepping toward the dresser. “I'll be in the living room to grab a few things.”

The sound of rustling fabric was quiet behind me while I packed some food and water for her, along with my datapad and door pass for work. She didn't take long to change, the sound of her hooves on the floor behind me soon drawing my attention. When I turned, she was adjusting the drawstring pants, her tail swishing faintly behind her as she tugged the oversized shirt into place.

“Not bad,” I said with a faint smile. “Better than pajamas, right?”

She huffed softly, her tail swiping once as she eyed me.

---

The drive to HQ was quiet, the gentle rumble of the engine filling the silence between us. She tensely sat in the passenger seat, her hands resting in her lap, her claws fully retracted but twitching whenever the car hit a bump in the road.

I glanced at her briefly as we pulled up to the towering gray walls of Crimson Reverie’s compound. The place was as unwelcoming as ever, its sharp angles and reinforced gates looming like sentinels, guarding my home away from home.

Her breathing quickened, her tail twitching as the car slowed to a stop.

“It’ll be fine,” I said softly, turning off the engine. “Just a few hours. Then we’ll head back.”

Her claws flexed briefly, leaving small scratches on the seat, but she didn’t growl or make any move to resist.

The guard at the gate waved us through, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before returning to his post. I parked in the underground garage, stepping out and motioning for her to follow. She hesitated for a moment, her tail curling tighter around her leg, before climbing out of the car.

“Stay close,” I said, my tone firm but calm.

Her hooves clicked against the pavement as she followed me into the building and toward my quarters, her posture tense but steady.

I keyed the door and it slid open, revealing the small room.

“You’ll be fine here,” I said. “No one’s going to bother you.”

She let out a low growl, her claws flexing faintly before retracting as she perched on the edge of the familiar cot. I unzipped my bag, setting out water and food for her.

“I mean it,” I added, crouching before her. “You’re safe. Just stay put until I’m done.”

Her tail curled around her legs once more, and she huffed softly, her gaze darting toward the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” I said, stepping out and letting the door close behind me.

---

The day at HQ dragged like lead, every second punctuated by the faint buzz of unease in the back of my mind.

Drills were a blur of precision and repetition—Reaper’s voice barking orders, the clang of boots against metal, and the clatter of weapons as we moved through formations. I kept my body in motion, but my thoughts were locked on the small, dim quarters where I’d left her.

“Pick it up, Tats!” Viper called, one of their daggers spinning lazily in one hand as they lounged at the edge of the yard. “You’re moving like you left something important behind.”

I scowled, my mood not up to our usual banter. “Focus on your own drill.”, I barked.

“Feisty,” they said with a grin.

Reaper’s sharp “Viper, shut it!” spared me further commentary, but the tension in my chest remained.

---

By the time I made my way back toward the quarters many hours later, the quiet unease I’d carried all day had sharpened into a tangible knot in my chest.

Then I heard it.

The sound wasn’t loud at first—just a distant wail that sent a shiver down my spine. As I drew closer, it grew louder, sharper, until the keening cry became unmistakable.

Her.

I broke into a run, my boots pounding against the floor as the sound guided me.

When I reached the door, I slammed my hand against the panel, and it hissed open with a low, mechanical groan.

The sight inside stopped me cold.

The room was in shambles. The cot was shredded beyond recognition, its mattress torn apart and the frame bent at awkward angles. The desk was clawed and splintered, deep gouges running jagged lines across its surface. Shreds of wallpaper hung limply from the walls, and the chair was reduced to scattered, broken pieces.

And there she was, crouched in the corner, her claws fully extended as she clutched the remains of the blanket. Her tail lashed violently, striking against the floor with a sharp, rhythmic thud. Her breathing was erratic, her eyes wide and wild as she stared at nothing, rocking herself.

“Hey,” I called out, stepping into the room.

Her head snapped toward me, and a guttural growl tore from her throat.

“It’s me,” I said quickly, raising my hands. “You’re okay. It’s just me.”

Her claws twitched, her tail curling tighter as she crouched lower, her breathing hitching in uneven gasps.

“I’m back,” I said softly, inching closer. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

Her growl faltered, breaking into a low, trembling whimper. Her claws retracted slightly, but the tension in her frame didn’t ease.

“You’re okay,” I murmured, dropping to a crouch. “I’ve got you. Whatever it is, it’s over. You’re safe now.”

Before I could say more, she darted forward, her hands gripping my shoulders as she buried her face in my chest. Her claws extended again, raking across my back in deep, searing lines that cut through fabric and skin as she clung to me.

I hissed sharply, the sting cutting through the adrenaline already surging in my veins, but I didn’t pull away.

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice steady despite the pain. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her tail coiled tightly around my leg, her body trembling against mine as sobs wracked her small frame. Her claws scraped against my back again, her grip desperate and unrelenting.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured, running a hand lightly over her hair. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Her cries grew louder, her breathing hitching with every broken sob. She pressed herself closer, her claws still not quite retracted as her tail uncoiled from my leg and thumped violently against the floor.

Her hands shifted suddenly, gripping the fabric of my shirt as she tilted her head upward. Before I could react, she pressed her lips to mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

The motion was desperate, almost frantic, her body pressing against mine as her tail tightened its hold around my leg. Her hands clutched at me frantically, holding onto whatever fabric they could tear into.

She shifted against me, grinding her hips into mine as though trying to draw me closer, her muffled cries breaking through the kiss.

The sheer intensity of it left me frozen, my mind scrambling for balance as her hands roamed, gripping my shoulders with bruising force, even for my hard skin.

When she pulled back slightly, her forehead rested against mine, and her breaths came in shuddering gasps. Her tail loosened its hold, swaying slowly as her tears soaked into my shirt.

“You’re safe,” I whispered, my hands steady on her shoulders, trying to stay calm for both of us. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

She pressed into me again, her sobs quieter now but no less desperate as her legs locked behind me, not giving me any chance to let her go.

The room was still a wreck. My back stung with every small movement, the lines her claws had carved into my skin burning like fire. But none of it mattered.

All that mattered was her, held tightly in my arms, her quiet sobs slowly fading into silence. She needed me, and when I'd saved her that day I knew I couldn't fail her.

Maybe today, I had.

Only a few moments later, her trembling fingers once again curled into my tattered shirt, tugging hard enough to strain and tear the fabric. Her breathing came in sharp, uneven bursts, and her eyes turned wild again, burning with raw desperation that bordered on panic.

“Hey,” I murmured, catching her wrists as her hands slid lower, fumbling at my waist. “Slow down.”

She let out a low, guttural sound—not quite a growl, but something filled with frustration and need. Her claws stayed retracted, but her nails dug lightly into my skin as she fought against my hold, pulling insistently at the barrier of clothing between us.

Her hands trembled violently as she tried again, her tail lashing behind her like a whip. The fire in her eyes flared brighter, unrelenting, as though she couldn’t bear another second of waiting.

“Alright,” I said softly, releasing her wrists. “Okay. I’m here.” She needed this, I told myself.

The words barely registered before she surged forward, her hands flying to the hem of my shirt. Her grip was frantic, tugging the tattered fabric upward with a strength that left no room for hesitation, betraying her frail form. I reached up, helping her peel the shirt over my head, and her breath hitched audibly as the runes etched into my skin came into view.

Her hands hovered for a moment, shaking as though she wasn’t sure where to begin. Then she lunged, her fingers pressing hard against the glowing lines that pulsed faintly with energy.

The contact sent a shiver through me, the heat of her touch igniting the magic beneath my skin. “Easy,” I said, though my voice was rough, the words catching on the edge of my breath.

But she wasn’t listening. Her hands roamed over my chest and shoulders, scratching and squeezing desperate and clumsy as she sought every inch of me. Her almost glowing eyes locked onto mine, pleading and wild, and the sheer intensity of her need sent a jolt through my chest. I knew she had me, then.

She shifted suddenly, her hooves scraping against the floor as she straddled my lap, pressing her body flush against mine. When had she taken her borrowed pants off? Her hands moved lower, pulling at my waistband with sharp, insistent tugs, her growls turning to soft, frustrated whimpers.

“Hold on,” I rasped, catching her hands. “You’re moving too fast—”

She wrenched her hands free, her lips parting as a sound escaped her—a high, broken keening that struck deep, somewhere I didn’t know I could feel. It wasn’t anger. It was desperation, raw and overwhelming, as though her very survival depended on this moment. Maybe it did.

“Okay, okay,” I said, my voice dropping into something softer. I brushed her hair back gently, trying to steady her trembling frame. “I’ve got you. Just... let me help.”

Her hands stilled, hovering at my waist, but her breath came faster now, her eyes flickering between my face and the runes on my skin. Her tail coiled tightly around my leg, holding me in place as though afraid I might slip away.

I shifted slightly, guiding her hands to the fastening of my pants. Her fingers fumbled clumsily, shaking with urgency as she worked to free the fabric. It fell away in a matter of seconds, and her hands were back on me, her grip firm and unyielding as she lowered herself onto me.

Her body pressed closer, every movement driven by instinct and hunger. Her lips found my neck, trailing heat down past my collarbone to the rune-covered softness of my bosom as she let out another low, trembling sound.

“You don’t have to fight for this,” I murmured, sliding my hands to her waist to steady her. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

But she couldn’t slow down—not yet. Her tail flicked sharply, her body grinding against mine with a frantic rhythm that sent a rush of heat through me. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her movements growing more erratic as she let the need take over.

Her kisses turned fierce, her teeth grazing my skin as her hands roamed over me, clinging tightly like I was the only thing keeping her tethered to the moment. She moved with an almost feral desperation, her tail tightening its grip around my leg even further as though trying to anchor herself.

“Hey,” I said softly, catching her face in my hands. “Look at me.”

She froze briefly, her eyes snapping to my face. They were still wild, still brimming with a need that felt all-consuming, but there was a flicker of something else now—something vulnerable and afraid, hidden beneath the chaos.

“You’re safe,” I murmured, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “I’ve got you. Take what you need.”

Her lips parted, and for a moment, I thought she might pull back. But instead, she surged forward, her mouth finding mine again with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs as her far too long tongue snaked its way past my lips.

The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, and utterly consuming. Her hands gripped my shoulders tightly, her nails pressing into my skin as she pressed herself fully against me. Every movement, every breath she took, was a plea, a desperate search for the connection she’d been denied for so long.

I let my hands drift lower, steadying her trembling frame as her hips rocked against mine. Her body was a study in contradictions—soft and yielding in some places, tense and unrelenting in others. The heat radiating from her was almost too much, her desperation igniting something primal in me that I couldn’t ignore.

Her rhythm was erratic, each movement driven by instinct rather than thought. I guided her as best I could, my hands firm on her waist, coaxing her into something steadier. Her growls softened into ragged breaths, chest pressed against chest as if trying to absorb the other, sweat pooling on our skin as the tension between us mounted.

Her forehead pressed against mine, her breath mingling with my own as her hips found a rhythm, each motion sharper and more insistent than the last. The raw, unfiltered need in her movements left no room for hesitation, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the moment.

Her hands slid down to grip my arms, her nails digging into my skin—not out of malice, but from the sheer force of her desperation. Every shift of her body sent a jolt of heat racing through me, my runes flaring brighter as the energy between us surged.

“You’re okay,” I murmured, though my voice came out rough and broken. “I’ve got you.”

Her only response was a low, guttural sound deep in her throat, her lips brushing against my neck as her body moved harder against mine. Her tail tightened around my leg, her entire frame trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Don’t,” I whispered, sliding a hand up her back. “You don’t have to hold back. I’m here.”

Her eyes snapped open, locking onto mine with a mixture of disbelief and something raw and fragile. For the first time, she let go completely, her movements turning frantic and uncontrolled as her need reached its breaking point.

The connection between us deepened, the hum of energy coursing through my runes growing louder, sharper, as if resonating with her every motion. My body burned with the intensity of it, every nerve alight as her movements grew erratic, her breath hitching with every shift, my runes burning so bright we lit up the room in tones of black un-light and pink energy as I felt some piece of her wedge itself deep within my very being.

I tightened my grip on her waist, anchoring her as her rhythm faltered. Her growl softened into a sharp, broken cry, her body shuddering against mine as the tension crested and broke in a rush of heat and light as we both went over the edge.

She collapsed against me, her body trembling with the aftermath of her release. Her breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, her forehead pressing into the crook of my neck as she clung to me with a grip that was both fierce and desperate.

Her tail loosened its hold, curling faintly around my leg before falling still. Her hands, which had gripped me so tightly moments ago, now rested lightly against my skin, her fingers twitching faintly as though unsure whether to let go.

“You’re alright,” I murmured, running a hand gently down her back. My voice was hoarse, the words catching on the edges of my own uneven breathing. “It’s over. You’re okay.”

Her only response was a soft, almost imperceptible hum, her body sagging against mine as exhaustion overtook her. Her eyes, once so wild and desperate, were now half-lidded, her gaze unfocused as she struggled to steady herself.

I shifted slightly, adjusting her in my lap so she could rest more comfortably against me. Her tail flicked faintly at the movement, but she didn’t pull away.

The room around us felt impossibly quiet in the aftermath. The faint hum of the broken light overhead was the only sound, a soft reminder of the chaos we’d left behind.

“You needed that,” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, a faint glimmer of something unreadable lingering in their depths. Then, slowly, she nodded, the motion almost imperceptible.

Her breathing steadied gradually, the trembling in her body easing as she settled against me. The tension that had gripped her for so long was gone now, replaced by a fragile stillness that I didn’t dare disturb while I let my mind catch up with what we'd done.

The world around me seemed to settle into a surreal haze, the aftermath of our intimacy leaving an echo of heat in the small, ravaged quarters. She remained in my lap, her body draped over mine, her breaths soft and uneven against my neck as she hummed softly. Her hands rested on my arms, the tension in them gone, replaced by the languid calm of someone entirely sated.

The room was heavy with the scent of sweat, magic, and the faint, metallic tang of blood from my back. Her claws had cut deeper than I realized, deeper than they should have given what I was, though the sting of the wounds was secondary to the knot tightening in my chest. What had I just done?

This wasn’t a battlefield decision. There were no orders to follow, no strategy to execute. This was personal. Too personal, maybe. And yet, looking down at her, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it—not truly.

Her tail curled lazily around my leg, her fingers curling and uncurling as if to keep her grounded. She looked... content, and there was a softness to her gaze now, one that made my chest ache with its intensity.

“You’re... okay?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. Not that I could manage more in the moment. She hummed dreamily in response, which I took as a yes.

I swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing back in. Despite some back and fourth I managed to stand after setting the complaining succubus down on the remains of the blanket, my back protesting as the motion pulled at the fresh scratches trailing down my skin. Glancing at the room, I winced at the state of it. The cot was warped, the thin metal frame bent and twisted where her claws had gripped it earlier. The bedding was shredded beyond recognition, scattered across the floor in uneven clumps. The desk bore deep gouges, and the wallpaper hung in tattered strips from the walls.

“Stay here,” I said softly, looking back down at the succubus. “And put your clothes back on, we have to fix this.” She let out another complaining whine, followed by low hum that sounded like a cross between contentment and protest, her tail almost wagging behind her.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. “Alright, let’s... figure this out.”

I dug through my storage locker, grabbing a clean shirt. I pulled it on, the fabric catching slightly on the raw scratches, making me wince.

When I turned back, she was closer, crawling on the ground until she nearly touched me again.

“You’re really sticking close now, huh?” I muttered, crouching slightly to meet her gaze.

She tilted her head, her eyes locking onto mine, her claws twitching faintly before retracting again.

“I get it,” I said softly. “I do. But we need to talk about this.”

Her ears flicked, and she let out a low, questioning hum.

“What just happened,” I continued, my voice steady despite the heat rising in my face. “That was... a lot. For both of us.” She just continued staring at me dreamily, but her faint nod told me everything I needed to know. I sighed.

“We need to clean this up,” I muttered to myself, surveying the room again. “Discreetly.”

That meant I needed help. Someone I trusted. I grabbed my comm and hesitated, my finger hovering over the contact list. There was only one person I could call. The line connected almost immediately.

“Viv,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I need you to come by my quarters. Discreetly.”

There was a pause, and then Viper’s familiar, amused tone crackled through. “Oh, so it’s one of those days, huh? Want me to wear anything specific? That corset you like on me so much, maybe?"

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s not like that. I just need your help.”

“With what? Cleaning up your wild night?”

I hesitated, glancing back at the succubus. She was watching me with an almost curious tilt to her head, her tail swaying lazily behind her.

“Something like that,” I admitted.

“Oh my gods, I was joking!” Viper exclaimed, their laughter echoing through the comm. “What the hell did you do?”

“I’ll explain when you get here,” I said, cutting them off before they could spiral into more teasing. “Just hurry.”

Fifteen minutes later, there was a sharp knock at the door. I'd just finished helping the succubus get dressed again and turned to the door, hitting the keypad. The door slid open with a hiss and Viper slipped past me into the room. I closed the door again and turned around to face my best friend. Their sharp eyes immediately swept over the room, taking in the destruction.

“Damn, Raku,” they said, their tone hovering somewhere between impressed and horrified. “What happened here? Did Succupuss there throw a tantrum, or was she that good?”

I flushed, heat rising to my face as I turned away. “Ah fuck off!”

“Oh my gods, I’m right , aren’t I?” Viper said, their grin practically splitting their pierced face. “And look at the magic flooding the room! You lit up like a bonfire, didn’t you?”

“Vivi!” I snapped, my voice low and warning.

They grinned, clearly enjoying themselves. “No, seriously. Look at her. She’s glowing. Did you two light this room up, or am I imagining things?”

“She’s not glowing,” I muttered, though I didn’t miss the faint shimmer of magic that still lingered in the air, nor how her eyes lingered on me and me alone.

“She might as well be,” Viper countered, crouching slightly to study the succubus more closely. “You see this, right? The magic you saturated the room with. The way she’s looking at you? She’s bonded, Raku. Full-on mate-bonded. Gotta be.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Viper stood, brushing off their hands. “It means you’re stuck with her. For life. Or until one of you breaks it—which, spoiler, isn’t likely with her kind.” They shrugged. "'cept if she kills you, maybe."

Viper clapped me on the shoulder, their usual grin plastered on their face. “Congrats to monogamy, Raku. You’ve officially crossed into supernatural relationship territory. Better start learning the rules.” I could tell how hard it was for them to hold back laughter.

I just stared at them wide-eyed, trying to make sense of their words. It couldn't be, could it? I shook my head and muttered "How'd I go from a simple house raid to being essentially married in under a week?"

Viper hugged me quickly and mock-whispered "'bout time you settled. Thought you'd make me come over forever, not that I'd have minded. You think she's into cheating roleplay?"

I pushed them away. "Oh shut up, Viv. I could've long been in a steady monogamous relationship if I'd wanted something lasting before."

They grinned back at me. "You had to be soul-bonded to a traumatized girl from beyond the veil who's not guaranteed to ever be entirely 'human' again"— we both rolled our eyes at that expression—"whom you've known for a few days only. That's what it took to get you settled."

I threw a lazy punch in their direction, which they dodged effortlessly. They held up their hands in mock surrender, their grin never fading. “Okay, okay, seriously though. What do you need?”

I gestured vaguely to the room. “This... needs to disappear. The bed, the chair, the shredded sheets—all of it. I can’t have anyone seeing this when the inspectors come through. I don't care about a pay dock for the table or the walls, but everything else is an issue.”

Viper arched an eyebrow, crossing their arms. “You’re asking me to be your cleanup crew? I’m flattered, really. But you know this is going to cost you.”

“Viv,” I said, exhaling sharply. “I’m serious. Can you help or not?”

They studied me for a moment, their expression softening slightly. “Alright, alright. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Viper straightened, rolling up their sleeves. “First, we’ll need replacements for all this—bed, mattress, chair, sheets. Anything salvageable?”

“Not much,” I admitted, gesturing to the pile of shredded fabric. "Bed could maybe be bent back into a somewhat workable shape, but I don't trust either of us to get that done."

“Figures. Storage has extras, though. We can grab replacements without anyone noticing—if we’re quick about it.”

“What about the magic?” I asked, lowering my voice. “The room feels... different. Like it’s charged.”

Viper smirked. “Well, duh. Whatever you two got up to left a nice little magical afterglow. It’ll fade, eventually. Unless she’s planning on marking her territory again anytime soon with a catalyst like you, human-ish magical battery that you are.”

I shot them a glare, but they just laughed, clapping me on the shoulder again.

“Relax, Rak'. I’ve got this. You just focus on keeping her calm while I handle the heavy lifting.”

---

The next hour was a blur of hushed movements and whispered instructions. Viper slipped in and out of the room with an efficiency that reminded me why they were one of the best mages and also the best assassin in Crimson Reverie. They returned with a new bedframe, a chair, and a stack of fresh bedding, all pilfered from storage without raising any alarms.

While they worked, I focused on the succubus. She stayed close, her hands and tail occasionally brushing against me as if to remind herself I was still there.

“I know it’s a mess,” I murmured, crouching beside her. “But we’ll fix it. You’re not in trouble, okay?”

She tilted her head, her gaze flicking between me and the broken furniture.

“I know it wasn’t your fault,” I added. “It was a stress reaction. You didn’t mean to. We’ll figure this out together.”

Her tail flicked once, brushing against my leg. It wasn’t quite an acknowledgment, but it was enough to ease the knot of tension in my chest.

By the time Viper finished, the room looked almost normal. The new bed was in place, the shredded sheets replaced with fresh ones, and the broken chair had been swapped out for a functional—if slightly mismatched—replacement.

“Not bad, huh?” Viper said, dusting off their hands.

“Thanks,” I said, meaning it.

“Don’t mention it,” they replied, their tone softer than usual. “Seriously. Don’t mention it. You'd do the same for me. Hell, you have.”

As Viper gathered the remnants of the destroyed furniture to dispose of discreetly, they paused, their sharp eyes flicking to me.

“There’s a place,” they said slowly. “A spot in the old quarter. It’s... not official, but they know things. About her kind. If you’re serious about taking care of her, you should check it out.”

I frowned. “Where?”

Viper rattled off an address, their tone uncharacteristically serious. “They don’t take just anyone. But if you tell them Vivi Vee sent you, they’ll listen. Probably. If not, I'll just come with you.”

“Thanks, Viv,” I said, my voice quiet.

They grinned, their usual irreverence returning. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

Once Viper left, the room felt quieter, almost too quiet. I turned to the succubus, who had climbed onto the new bed, her tail coiling loosely around her legs.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

She tilted her head, her eyes glowing a gentle pink in the dim light.

I moved closer, sitting beside her on the edge of the cot. “You know,” I began, my voice faltering slightly, “I didn’t expect any of this. But... I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out.” I didn't know which one of us those words were for.

Her hand found mine, and she leaned in suddenly, pressing her lips to mine in a searing kiss, as if afraid I'd changed my mind after all.

Her tail coiled around my leg, holding me close as her breathing hitched. There was a rawness to her movements, a pleading edge that made my heart ache.

When she finally pulled back, her gaze shimmered with unshed tears, and her fingers tightened against mine.

“You’re safe,” I murmured, resting my forehead against hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

We stayed like that for a while, her weight resting against me as the tension of the day ebbed away. I let out a slow breath, my arms loosening slightly around her.

A yawn snuck up on me, and I shifted, stretching to ease the stiffness in my shoulders. The motion lifted the hem of my shirt, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes followed the movement, lingering there with a flicker of curiosity.

A chuckle slipped out before I could stop it. I reached out and tapped her nose lightly. “Come on,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “Let’s go home.”

I stood, grabbing my datapad from the desk. Her footsteps followed immediately, steady and close. I turned to glance at her and caught the way she was watching me—quiet, intent, like she was waiting for something.

The door hissed open with the press of a button, and the lights blinked off as we stepped into the hall. Together, we made our way through the quiet corridors, the faint hum of the facility’s machinery our only companion.

In the underground garage, the air was cooler, the faint smell of oil and concrete lingering as we approached my car. She stayed close, her hand brushing my arm as if to reassure herself of my presence.

I opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to climb in. She hesitated briefly, her ears twitching as she glanced around the garage before sliding into the seat.

Once she was settled, I circled around to the driver’s side and got in, buckling her seatbelt for her before doing my own. She didn’t look away from me, her gaze soft and unwavering, as if she were taking in every detail of my face.

The car hummed to life as I pulled out of the garage, the wet streets reflecting the neon lights of the city above.

The ride was quiet. Her tail curled loosely around her legs, her body relaxed against the seat. It wasn’t the wary tension or outright panic I’d grown used to—it was something softer, almost serene.

I tightened my grip on the wheel, my thoughts circling back to everything that had happened. There was no need to wonder what had changed. I knew. It wasn’t just the feeding—it was everything that had followed. The trust she’d shown me, the way she clung to me like an anchor.

Her gaze lingered on me, her eyes bright against the dim glow of the dashboard lights. I could feel her attention pressing against me, not demanding but constant.

“Hungry?” I asked, glancing at her briefly.

Her ears twitched, and her head tilted slightly in a way that told me all I needed to know.

“That’s a yes,” I said with a faint smile.

I pulled into a small parking lot tucked between buildings, the rain shimmering under the neon signs overhead. Grabbing the umbrella from the back seat, I stepped out and opened the passenger door for her. She hesitated, her ears twitching as she glanced around the unfamiliar space.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, holding the umbrella over her. “Come on. Just food.”

Her eyes flicked to mine, then to the umbrella, and after a moment, she slid out of the car. She stayed close, her hand brushing mine occasionally as we made our way down the side street. I muttered an old seeking chant under my breath, the runes on my skin warming up as we walked through the rainy backroads.

The smell of charred meat and warm flatbreads filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of passing cars. The succubus walked carefully beside me, her gaze darting to the occasional shadow or pedestrian as though expecting something to lunge at her.

“It’s just a food stall,” I murmured, my tone gentle. “Nothing to worry about.”

She responded by getting closer, her arm hooked into mine now as we approached the familiar stall.

The vendor, was as unassuming as always, his grease-stained apron and friendly, too-wide grin a familiar sight. He looked up as we approached, his face lighting up with recognition.

“Well, if it isn’t young Raku!” he said, leaning forward on the counter. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Evenin', Earl. A few skewers, flatbreads, you know what I like—enough for two,” I replied, pulling out a few coins, stamped with a devil mark.

Earl’s eyes turned to the succubus at my side, his grin widening. “Raku, you little rascal. Didn’t think I’d see you with someone this pretty on your arm.”

I shook his offered hand, my gaze catching the faint shimmer in his form. His arm shifted slightly, rippling under the orange street light.

“Earl,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Your wards are slipping. You're shifting again."

He sighed, grabbing a set of skewers from the grill. “I know, I know. Rian’s been gone for weeks, nobody knows why or where. The new guy’s wards aren’t worth a damn.”

I frowned. "Think he's okay? Not many good wardcrafters around these days."

The old devil shrugged. "Don't know. I was thinking of asking one of the regulars if they could give Rian's boyfriend a visit, see if the old fart's just holed up with his sweetheart for a bit."

Earl and I shared a doubtful look, but neither of us dared to say what we actually thought. Thankfully, my stomach rumbling filled the gap before we could change our minds. I glanced at the succubus, who was watching the food intently, her posture less tense than before.

Earl silently handed me the skewers, his toothy grin plastered back onto his face, and I unwrapped one, holding it out to her. “Here. Try this.”

She hesitated, her nose twitching faintly as she sniffed the charred meat. When she took it, her fingers brushed mine briefly, her claws carefully retracted.

The first bite was tentative, her eyes briefly looking up to me as though checking for approval. Then, her ears perked, and she took another bite—faster, more eager.

“Good?” I asked, smiling encouragingly.

She nodded, her focus entirely on the food now.

Earl chuckled as he handed me the rest of the order. “She’s got good taste. You better keep her well-fed, Raku.”

I snorted. “Don’t you start. Vivi’s already going to be unbearable about this.”

Earl laughed, wiping his hands on his apron. “Speaking of Vivarian, haven’t seen that troublemaker in a while. Still causing you headaches?”

“Always,” I replied with a smirk. “But they’re doing fine. Same old Viv.”

The succubus shifted closer to me, a faint shiver running through her as the drizzle picked up. I reached out instinctively, rubbing her arm gently to warm her.

“Hey, Earl,” I said, tucking the bag of food under my arm. “We’ll catch up later. She’s getting cold. Next time I come 'round let me know if you've heard anything about Rian. I'll keep an ear out myself. And don't let that new ward guy scam you, ya hear me?”

Earl nodded with a knowing grin. “Don’t be a stranger, Raku. You know how to find me. And make sure to keep that girl happy. Bring her around again some time, eh?"

He vanished back into the shadows, his stall disappearing as quickly as it had appeared before I could even think of responding.

We walked back to the car, her steps lighter now, the tension in her shoulders easing with each passing moment. By the time we reached the vehicle, she had finished the skewer, holding the empty stick like a hard-earned trophy.

“Plenty more where that came from,” I said, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat as she climbed in.

She settled beside me, her posture close but not intrusive. Her attention flicked briefly to the bag of food that was now sitting in her lap before returning to me, her eyes soft but unrelenting.

The drive back to the apartment was quiet, the faint hum of the engine filling the space between us. I caught glimpses of her in the dim light as she unwrapped another skewer from the bag. She chewed carefully, savoring each bite.

It was strange seeing her like this—relaxed, almost peaceful. Only a few days ago, she’d been a trembling, feral creature chained to a wall. Now that she'd fed from me she was beside me, eating grilled meat and following my every move like we’d been doing this for years.

---

She followed me up the stairs happily, toddling after me with food in hand. The warmth of the apartment greeted us, the soft glow of the lights casting everything in familiar tones.

I set the bag of food on the coffee table and gestured for her to sit. She perched on the edge of the couch, her tail curling neatly beside her as she accepted another skewer.

“Go ahead,” I said, grabbing a flatbread for myself.

She waited until I took a bite before continuing with her own meal. Her appetite surprised me—she finished another skewer and half a flatbread, pausing only to glance at me between bites as if waiting for me to say something.

By the time we finished, the wrappers were scattered on the coffee table, and she leaned back slightly, her body relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as her gaze lingered on me.

She tilted her head but didn’t answer. Instead, she reached out, her hand brushing against my arm before sliding beneath my shirt.

Her touch was light, her fingers tracing the lines of a rune etched into my skin. There was no urgency to her movements—just quiet curiosity, as though she were following invisible threads only she could see.

“Excuse you, are you wiping your greasy hands on my tits now?,” I muttered, heat creeping into my face despite the teasing words.

She shifted closer, her touch wandering freely, her other hand resting lightly on my thigh. Her tail swayed faintly, brushing against my leg as she leaned into me.

I let out a slow breath, letting my hand settle on her back. The warmth of her touch, the trust in her every movement—it was grounding and overwhelming all at once. I decided to bite my tongue instead of trying to tease her further.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around us. Her breathing slowed as she melted against me, her hand still wandering absently across my chest.

“You’ve really settled in,” I murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Her ears twitched faintly, and she tilted her head to look at me. There was no tension in her gaze, only a quiet calm that made my chest tighten.

The trust she showed me, the way she leaned into me without hesitation—it was undeniable. It wasn’t just the bond Vivi had mentioned; it was her, reaching for connection in a way that felt as natural as breathing.

But what did it mean for us? For me? The questions churned in the back of my mind, heavy and unanswered.

Her hand stilled against my chest, her breathing evening out completely as she slowly slumped forward onto me and drifted into a peaceful sleep. Her weight against me was warm and grounding, and for the first time in days, I felt a faint sense of ease.

“You’ve had a long day,” I whispered, brushing a hand over her hair.

Eventually, I shifted, easing her off my lap gently. “Come on,” I said softly, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Her eyes blinked open, heavy-lidded and dreamy. She tilted her head, watching me for a moment before sitting up slowly.

---

The warm spray of the shower filled the bathroom, steam rising around us as she stepped under the water. She moved with a calm ease that hadn’t been there before today, her tail swaying faintly as the water cascaded over her back.

I lathered the soap bar between my hands, watching her relax completely. Her posture was loose, trusting, as though this were routine.

“Turn around,” I murmured.

She complied without hesitation, her movements fluid and natural as I worked the soap across her shoulders. My fingers moved carefully over her scars, avoiding the places where her wings had been. She didn’t flinch or tense—if anything, she leaned into my touch, letting the warmth of the water and the soap lull her further into calm.

“You’re definitely getting used to this,” I said softly, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

She let out a faint hum, her tail swaying faintly behind her.

By the time we stepped out, the mirrors were fogged, and the air was thick with warmth. I handed her a towel, watching as she dried off with deliberate care.

Back in the bedroom, I grabbed a clean shirt from the dresser and handed it to her.

“Here,” I said. “This should work.”

She slipped it on, the long fabric almost comically big on her small frame. I grabbed a pair of loose pants for myself and tugged them on before sitting on the edge of the bed.

She followed without hesitation, curling up beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her hand wandered across my chest again, her touch light and exploratory as she leaned into me.

Her breathing slowed, her body completely at ease as she melted against me. For all the questions swirling in my mind, I couldn’t deny the warmth of her presence or the comfort of her trust.

“Today really changed things,” I murmured, brushing a hand over her hair.

The content hum she let out was answer enough. Her breathing evened out as she drifted into sleep, her hand still resting on my chest. I let out a slow breath, the weight of the day finally settling as I closed my eyes.

“Goodnight,” I whispered into the quiet, letting sleep take me too.

The golden light of morning spilled across the room, warming the air and stirring me from sleep. the succubus' body was pressed tightly against mine, her head tucked into the crook of my shoulder, and her tail draped possessively over my thigh.

Her soft breath tickled my neck, her fingers curled against my chest, holding onto me. Her claws were retracted, leaving only warmth in her touch, but the possessive way she clung to me was unmistakable.

I shifted slightly, careful not to disturb her too much, though even the faintest movement drew a soft hum from her throat. Her tail tightened briefly, and her lips brushed against my collarbone in a way that felt almost instinctive.

“Morning,” I murmured, my voice still rough with sleep.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, the haze of sleep softening her expression as she met my gaze. She responded by giving me a slow blink and then nuzzling deeper into my shoulder with a faint, pleased sigh.

“You comfortable?” I teased, brushing a hand through her hair.

Her huff of acknowledgment was soft, and her tail squeezed my leg as though to emphasize her point. I reached for my datapad, careful not to disturb the lazy warmth that enveloped us. Its faint glow caught her attention immediately, her eyes sharpening as she tilted her head curiously.

“How about we find you a name today?” I asked, remembering a thought from the other day. Her tail squeezed me again, her claws flexing briefly against my chest before retracting fully as though the suggestion intrigued her.

I went through a dozen names— Lilith , Kaeline , Selara —but none of them seemed right. Her reactions were subtle at best, ranging from bored curiosity to complete indifference; none drew the spark I was searching for.

After what felt like an eternity of scrolling, a name seemed to catch her attention. “Jinaria,” I said aloud, watching her closely.

Her tail squeezed my leg again, and her eyes brightened slightly as a soft hum escaped her lips.

“You like that?” I asked.

She nodded faintly, her fingers brushing over one of the runes etched across my chest.

“Jinaria it is,” I said with a small smile. “Jin for short?”

Her hum deepened into a soft purr as she pressed herself closer, her breath warm against my skin.

I set the datapad aside, running my hand gently through her hair one more time. Her eyes fluttered closed, her body melting against mine as her breathing slowed to a steady rhythm.

It wasn’t until I held her that I noticed the changes in her body. The sharpness of her frame had softened, her limbs fuller, her hips curving in a way that hadn’t been there before. Even her skin seemed warmer, more vibrant, carrying a rosy glow that I couldn’t ignore.

She’d changed.

The realization hit me like a freight train, the pieces falling into place with startling clarity. Our intimacy hadn’t just quieted her hunger—it had nourished her. Not just emotionally but physically. Sure, her feeding off my energy before had sated her, but it was only now that her body had significantly recovered in barely any time at all.

Her lips brushed against my collarbone again, pulling me from my thoughts. Her hands slid down my chest, her touch light but deliberate as her fingers explored my skin. Her movements were slow at first, tentative, but the way her tail coiled around me betrayed the growing need simmering beneath her quiet exterior.

“Jin,” I murmured softly, my breath catching as her lips trailed lower.

She responded with a soft hum as her hands roamed over my chest. Her touch grew bolder, her lips trailing heated kisses across my collarbone and down my chest, her long tongue flicking against my skin in a way that sent warmth racing through me. She pressed closer still, her body aligning with mine as her hands cupped my breasts, her thumbs circling over sensitive skin, runes alight.

I groaned softly, my hands sliding to her waist to steady her as she continued her exploration. She wiggled out of my grasp and her lips moved lower, lower, leaving heated trails along the curve of my chest, her touch unrelenting.

When her mouth found one of my breasts, her tongue teasing the sensitive skin before her lips closed around it, I couldn’t suppress the shudder that coursed through me. My fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her as her rhythm deepened.

Her attention shifted slowly, her kisses trailing lower still as her hands slid down my sides. She lingered at my hips, her claws grazing the skin lightly as she glanced up at me, her eyes shimmering bright pink with a mix of hunger and affection.

I exhaled shakily, my hand tightening in her hair as she pressed a soft kiss just below my navel.

“Jin,” I gasped softly, her name spilling from my lips like a prayer.

Her hum turned low and teasing, her tail sliding down my leg as she adjusted her position.

My breath caught, my hand letting go of her hair as she shifted position, her body settling comfortably between my legs.

“Jin,” I murmured again, my voice thick with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

Her focus was absolute, her mouth working with an intimacy and precision that left me trembling. My hands gripped the sheets, my breaths shallow as waves of sensation coursed through me.

She alternated between soft, teasing flicks of her tongue and deeper, more deliberate movements as her content hums filled the room, a soft melody that resonated deep within me.

When my body tensed, the pressure building until it spilled over in a shuddering release, I cried out softly, my back arching as her rhythm continued, drawing every ounce of pleasure from me.

She slowed gradually, her lips trailing back up my body, soothing and tender as she kissed the sensitive skin above my hips.

When her gaze met mine again, her eyes were soft and satisfied, her expression glowing with a mix of triumph and contentment.

I reached for her, pulling her back into my arms as our lips met in a kiss that was languid, affectionate and salty as I tasted myself on her. Her body melted against mine, her breaths syncing with my own as the heat between us settled into something softer, warmer.

We stayed tangled together in bed for what felt like an eternity, the golden light shifting across the room as the day pressed on. Jin remained close, her soft purrs vibrating on my skin as she nuzzled into the crook of my neck.

“We really need to get up,” I murmured eventually, though the thought of leaving her warmth felt almost impossible.

Her claws flexed lightly against my skin, retracting again as she made a quiet noise of protest.

“Jin,” I said softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “Breakfast isn’t going to make itself.”

Her lips once again brushed my collarbone in response and her eyes met mine with a glint of mischief. I sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before untangling myself from her grip and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

The moment I stood, her hands found my waist again, her grip firm but gentle as she guided me back down onto the mattress. Her lips caught mine in a kiss that was both playful and insistent, her tail curling around my arm as she pulled me closer.

“Five more minutes?” I teased, though the words were muffled against her lips.

Her soft giggle was all the answer I needed.

---

By the time we finally left the bed, the sunlight had shifted, casting longer beams through the room. Jin's steps were light and unhurried, her tail swaying contentedly behind her as we moved to the kitchen.

I began pulling out pans and utensils, my thoughts still lingering on the warmth of her touch and the way her body had reacted to mine.

The succubus, however, had other plans.

Before I could fully focus on breakfast, her hands found my waist, her grip firm but not forceful. She turned me toward the living room, her tail curling lightly around my wrist as she guided me toward the couch.

“Jin we have to start our day eventually,” I murmured, though my words lacked conviction. Her eyes sparkled with playful insistence as she pulled me after her.

“You’re relentless,” I muttered, though I didn’t resist as she leaned back against the cushions.

She settled comfortably on the couch, her tail coiling around my waist as she guided me to kneel before her.

Her soft humming was encouraging, her eyes half-lidded as I braced my hands against her thighs. I leaned forward, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to the sensitive skin just above her knees.

Her breath hitched, her claws flexing against the cushions as her tail wrapped around my neck instead, pulling me closer.

“With pleasure,” I murmured in response, my lips brushing against her inner thigh.

Jin drew a sharp breath, her body trembling beneath my touch as I worked with unrelenting precision. Her soft cries filled the room, tail tightening briefly around my neck as I brought her closer to the edge.

When her climax finally overtook her against my face, her back arched, her hands gripping my head as a shuddering moan escaped her lips. I steadied her, my hands tracing slow circles along her thighs as her breathing slowed.

She pulled me onto the couch with her, her tail curling possessively around my waist as she straddled me. Her lips found mine in a scorching kiss, her hands roaming my back with an intimacy that sent sparks racing through me.

Her hips moved against mine, her rhythm steady and deliberate as our soft sighs and shuddering breaths filled the room.

The succubus' pace quickened, her focus unrelenting, and the bond between us pulsed with a rhythm that left me breathless.

---

The sound of the door clicking open was abrupt, cutting through the moment like a blade.

“Hey, Tats!” Viper’s voice rang out, cheerful and oblivious. “Shower’s busted, so I’m borrowing yours. Oh, and I brought breakfa—”

They froze mid-step, their sharp eyes locking onto us before a grin spread across their face.

“Well,” they said after a beat, their tone thick with amusement. “This is new.”

“Viv,” I groaned, my voice strained as I tried to covers us, though Jin’s grip on me was unyielding.

Her growl was low and possessive, her claws pressing digging into my skin as her movements quickened.

“Oh my gods,” Viper said, breaking into laughter. “This isn't exactly how I thought I'd find you after yesterday.”

“Get out,” I snapped, though the breathlessness in my voice robbed the words of any edge.

“Can’t,” Viper replied, dropping a bag of food onto the counter. “I’ve got a key, remember? And I brought bagels. You’re welcome.” Their steps retreated to the bathroom before I'd found the breath to respond.

A quick shower later, Viper leaned casually against the armchair, their amused gaze flicking between us with a smirk as Jin continued, her focus entirely on me as though the interruption didn’t exist.

“Still going, huh?” Viper teased, their tone light but sharp. “Guess I should've brought snacks instead of bagels.”

“Viv,” I said through clenched teeth, though my voice broke into a low groan as Jin’s movements quickened. “I swear, I’m going to kill you.” They snorted, settling into the armchair across from us as they pulled a bagel from the bag. “Yeah, yeah. After breakfast.”

Time seemed to blur as Jin’s heat pulsed unrelentingly. Every touch and motion radiated her need, drawing me deeper into her searing touch.

---

When her intensity finally began to subside, the apartment fell into an almost serene quiet. Jin lay curled against me on the couch, her body warm and pliant, her breathing slow and steady.

Viper lounged in the armchair across from us, their feet kicked up on the coffee table as they picked through the remnants of what was now lunch, ordered with my money while I was busy.

“So,” they said casually, gesturing toward us with a chopstick. “What’s the plan now?”

I brushed a hand through Jin’s sweat-matted hair, my other arm resting across her back. “What plan?” I muttered, my voice low and hoarse.

“You know,” Viper said, smirking. “How are you going to keep that”—they gestured toward the dazed succubus—“happy, fed, and out of trouble?”

I sighed, leaning back against the cushions. “One day at a time, as long as my heart doesn't give out.”

Jin stirred faintly at the sound of my voice, her eyes blinking open as she nuzzled against my chest. The heat in her gaze had softened now, replaced by a dreamy contentment that made my heart quicken.

Viper chuckled, their grin turning wicked. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, Rak'. Suppose that stamina training Reaper’s always making us do is putting in overtime.”

I shot them a glare, but the warmth in Jin’s expression made it impossible to stay annoyed at my best friend, despite their shit-eating grin.

“Yeah,” I said softly, brushing a hand over her back. “Suppose it is.”

The couch had claimed me as its prisoner, and I wasn’t fighting it. Jin was sprawled across my lap, her tail curled possessively around my leg, her soft hums vibrating through me. Her fingers were resting lightly on my arm, but the grip was firm enough to say: you’re not going anywhere.

Across from us, Viper lounged in the armchair, their feet propped on the table and the crumpled takeout bag on their stomach. They'd made coffee for themself at one point, sipping loudly as their gaze drifted between Jin and me with barely concealed amusement.

“You know,” they said finally, setting the mug down with a deliberate thunk, “I was gonna say something nice. Like, ‘Oh wow, look at you two, all cozy and adorable now that you've tired yourselves out.’” They paused, wrinkling their nose. “But then I caught a whiff. And now I’m thinking more like, ‘Oh wow, look at you two, all cozy and rank.’”

Jin stirred slightly, her tail tightening around my leg as her claws twitched faintly against my arm.

“Vivi,” I groaned, not bothering to open my eyes. “Go find someone else to annoy.”

“Believe me, I would,” they replied, leaning back and gesturing at the two of us with a half-eaten dumpling. “But this? This is prime entertainment, better than porn. And honestly, Rak', you need me right now. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh, are you now?” I said dryly, opening one eye to glare at them.

“Absolutely,” they said with a nod. “Because if I don’t save you from your own stench, the next poor soul who gets within a five-foot radius of you will file a complaint. And I really don’t think HR is ready for that conversation with your landlord.”

Jin let out a soft growl, her claws flexing more noticeably now.

“See?” Viper said, pointing the dumpling at her. “Even she agrees with me.”

“She does not,” I muttered, running a hand over Jin’s hair to soothe her, scratching at the base of one of her horns. She huffed softly, burying her face against my chest as if trying to block Viper out entirely.

“Uh-huh,” they said, standing and stretching. “Alright, if you’re gonna be stubborn about it, I’ll just do this myself.”

Before I could ask what they meant, they crossed to the window, wrenching it open with unnecessary flair. Cool air rushed in, cutting through the stuffy warmth of the room.

“There,” they said, dusting off their hands. “Step one: ventilation. Step two? You two dragging yourselves into the shower before one of your neighbors calls the hazmat team.”

Jin growled again, a sharper sound this time, as her tail thumped lightly against the couch in protest.

“Five more minutes,” I said instinctively, already regretting it as Viper turned to grin at me.

“Rak', you’re enabling her,” they said, crossing their arms.

“I’m comforting her,” I corrected, my voice barely above a mutter.

“Enabling,” they repeated firmly. “Look, I get it. She’s cute. She's hot. She’s clingy. It’s adorable. But you know what’s not adorable? Walking into HQ reeking of sex.”

I sighed, shifting slightly under Jin’s weight. Her tail tightened further, and she let out another low, disgruntled sound.

“You’re not helping,” I told my best friend.

“Oh, I’m helping,” they said, leaning against the wall. “Because if you two don’t get up in the next sixty seconds, I’m dragging you to the shower myself. And believe me, nobody wants that.”

Jin huffed, finally lifting her head to glare at Viper.

“There she is,” Viper said with a grin. “Go ahead, glare all you want. But I’m not wrong.”

I sighed again, gently untangling Jin’s tail from my leg. She shot me a betrayed look, her claws flexing against my arm sharply as if to call me a traitor.

“Come on,” I said softly, brushing a hand over her shoulder. “Before Vivi actually makes good on that threat. We’ll feel better after.”

Her growl softened into a reluctant hum, and she slid off me with slow movements that made it clear she wasn’t happy about it.

Viper gave a mock round of applause as we stood. “There we go! Progress!”

“Viv, if you say one more word—”

“I’ll keep going,” they interrupted, already grinning as they picked up their bag of takeout. “And you’ll love it. Now go, before I grab a bucket.”

---

The bathroom was quiet except for the steady hiss of water hitting the tile. The steam curled lazily around us, wrapping the small space in a soft haze. I stepped under the spray first, sighing as the warmth hit my skin, washing away the lingering grime and tension.

Jin followed, her movements unhurried as she stepped into the shower. She stayed close, her tail brushing against my leg while adjusting to the water’s heat. Her hands came to rest on my waist, steadying herself more than me, but the touch felt grounding.

“Hey there,” I murmured, reaching for the soap.

She hummed softly, her chin dipping against my shoulder as her arms looped around me. Her tail flicked lazily, a stark contrast to the tense sways I was so used to seeing.

“Long morning,” I said, lathering my hands with the bar in absence of shampoo. I turned slightly, catching her gaze. “Well worth the exhaustion, though.”

Her lips curved faintly, and she leaned into me as I fully turned and began working the soap through her hair. The motion was soothing, the warm water cascading over us in steady waves. My fingers combed through her damp strands, careful and deliberate, as I worked away the tangles.

“This is nice,” I said absently, mostly to myself, as I tilted her head slightly to rinse the lather from her hair.

Jin responded with a soft hum, her hands sliding up my back to rest on my shoulders. Her touch was warm, her claws carefully retracted as her hands squeezed and massaged wherever they touched.

“You spoil me,” I teased, my voice low and tired.

Her response was to lean closer, pressing her lips softly against my shoulder.

“Jin,” I murmured, smiling despite myself. “You’re going to make me fall over.”

She shifted slightly, her tail wrapping loosely around my leg as though to steady me. Her hands moved lower, skimming the runes etched across my ribs before she pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. There was no demand in her expression, only quiet contentment.

I brushed a strand of damp hair from her face, letting my thumb linger against her cheek. “I'm lucky to have you,” I said softly.

Her hum deepened into a faint purr, and she tipped her head forward, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that felt more grateful than insistent. My hands slid down her back, tracing the curve of her spine as I pulled her against me.

The moment stretched between us, entirely unhurried, until she shifted to grab the soap herself.

“My turn?” I asked with a faint laugh, stepping under the spray to rinse off.

She nodded, her hands moving over my arms and shoulders with deliberate care. Her touch was light, her fingers smoothing over the knots in my muscles as though she could coax the tension out of my body through sheer will.

I let her work, leaning against the wall as her hands traveled to my chest, tracing the faint lines of the runes etched into my skin. She lingered there, her palms warm against my skin, before stepping back slightly to let the water rinse the suds away.

By the time we finished, the fatigue that had clung to me earlier felt dulled, replaced by a faint, comforting warmth. Jin stayed close as we stepped out of the stall, her tail brushing against my arm as I grabbed a towel.

“You’re gonna fall asleep standing up if you’re not careful,” I teased, wrapping the towel around my waist.

Her response was a soft huff and a raised eyebrow, as if asking me who I was to talk.

“Alright,” I said, brushing a hand through her damp hair. “Let’s face Vivi before they start breaking down the door.”

The air outside the bathroom felt sharp and cool against my damp skin as I stepped into the bedroom, the towel draped loosely around my waist. Jin padded behind me, her tail brushing against my leg every so often as she followed close.

I opened my closet, rummaging through the sparse collection of neatly folded work clothes, perfectly opposing the pile of other items. My hands moved mechanically, grabbing a clean shirt and a pair of pants for myself before turning to look for something for her.

“These might work,” I said, holding up a soft black sweater and a pair of fitted joggers. They weren’t exactly tailored for someone with hooves, but the stretchy fabric would do in a pinch.

Jin tilted her head, her gaze flicking between the clothes and me before she took the offered garments. She hummed softly to herself as she turned toward the bed to dress.

I focused on getting dressed myself, slipping into my pair of cargo pants and a fitted top emblazoned with the red crescent of the Crimson Reverie logo before turning back to check on her. Jin was struggling with the waistband of the joggers, her tail swishing with faint irritation as she tugged them over her hips.

“Need a hand?” I asked, biting back a smile.

She shot me a mild glare, her claws flexing briefly before she managed to adjust the fabric properly. The joggers clung snugly to her frame, sitting low enough to accommodate her tail, and the sweater hung loosely over her shoulders, the sleeves slightly too long.

“You look good,” I said, earning a faint huff as she adjusted the cuffs of the sweater. "We'll have to look into picking up some clothes adjusted to fit someone with a tail, though."

Satisfied, I grabbed my jacket and slung it over my shoulder, brushing a hand through my still-damp hair.

“Come on,” I said, nodding toward the door. “Viv’s probably already raiding the fridge again.”

The moment we stepped back into the living room, the crisp smell of fresh air hit me, a stark contrast to the heady warmth that had lingered before. Viper was lounging on the arm chair, their feet again kicked up on the coffee table, looking far too pleased with themselves.

A neatly packed duffel bag sat on the floor beside them, and they were flipping through something on their datapad with an air of studied nonchalance.

“Look who’s finally presentable,” they said, glancing up and grinning. “Took you long enough.”

“Thanks for the commentary,” I muttered, running a hand over the back of my neck.

Viper sat up, tossing the datapad onto the table and gesturing toward the duffel bag. “I took the liberty of packing your essentials. Figured you’d want to hit the road quickly.”

“Why?” I asked, frowning as I picked up the bag.

“Oh, didn’t I mention?” they said, their grin widening. “We’re late.”

“Late for what?”

“Drills,” they replied casually. “Reaper called us in an hour ago. Said it was mandatory.”

“What?” I froze, my mind racing as the words sank in. “Why didn’t you—”

“I did,” they said with a shrug. “You were a little... preoccupied. ”

Jin growled softly, her claws twitching at her sides as her tail flicked sharply.

“Relax,” Viper said, holding up their hands. “I packed everything you’ll need, and I brought your car around. You’re welcome.”

I exhaled slowly, trying to suppress the rising frustration as I slung the bag over my shoulder.

“Thanks,” I muttered, though the word felt begrudging.

“Anytime,” they replied cheerfully, grabbing their own gear. “Now let’s get moving before Reaper has us running laps for the rest of the day.”

Jin clung close to my side as we walked to the car, her tail brushing against my leg with every step. Viper strolled ahead, spinning my keys around one finger like they didn’t have a care in the world.

My beat-up sedan had seen far better days, not that I'd let it go anytime soon. Viper tossed me the keys without warning, grinning as I barely caught them.

“Your turn to drive,” they said, slipping into the passenger seat.

Jin climbed into the back, settling behind me with a wary expression. She was quiet and her claws tapped lightly against the seat, a faint rhythm that betrayed her unease.

I started the engine, the familiar rattle and hum filling the cabin as I pulled away from the curb.

“You didn’t eat, did you?” Viper asked, glancing at me with a raised brow.

“I was a little preoccupied,” I replied flatly.

“That’s a shame,” they said, reaching into their bag and pulling out a wrapped sandwich. “This one’s mine, by the way. Thought I’d save you the trouble of wondering.”

“Generous,” I muttered, focusing on the road and blindly reaching for the sandwich anyway. My best friend giggled and handed Jin a sandwich as well.

The drive to HQ wasn’t long, but every mile seemed to stretch as the weight of the morning settled heavily in my chest. Jin stayed quiet in the backseat, her claws tapping faintly, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said softly, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

Her tail flicked slightly, but she didn’t respond, her pink gaze lingering on the horizon.

“Hey,” I added, keeping my tone gentle. “You’re coming with me. You won’t be alone.”

Her claws stilled, and after a moment, she nodded faintly. Good enough.

---

The Crimson Reverie HQ loomed ahead, its sharp angles and heavy concrete walls as intimidating as ever. I parked in the outside lot for once, the car’s tired engine sputtering as I turned it off.

Viper hopped out immediately, slinging their bag over one shoulder. “Ready for the warmest welcome Reaper’s ever given?”

I sighed, opening the door and stepping out, grabbing my own bag. Jin followed closely, her gaze darting between the building and the scattered groups of mercenaries moving across the lot.

She stuck close as we walked inside, brushing against me with every step. The faint hum of activity filled the air—voices echoing in the hallways, the metallic clang of equipment being moved, the buzz of overhead lights.

The squad’s space was already bustling when we arrived. The sharp bark of Reaper’s voice carried over the noise, cutting through the room like a whip.

“You’re late,” he said, his gaze locking onto me and Viper as we stepped inside.

“Traffic,” Viper replied breezily, setting their bag down with a loud thunk.

Reaper’s glare didn’t falter. “You missed most of the briefings. You’ll make up for it in drills. No breaks. No excuses.”

I stifled a groan, my tired muscles already protesting at the thought.

Jin stayed close, her tail curling around my waist as I guided her toward the back of the room. The squad’s usual setup was tight, with rows of chairs and tables crammed into the space.

Unfortunately, with the team back at full size, seating was at a premium. Crone was back from her injury leave, sitting with her usual stoic air, and even the Rookie—Paul—was taking up space with his stiff, awkward academy posture.

The only other free seat was my own, so Jin ended up in my lap, curling up like she belonged there. Her tail looped securely around me, and her claws brushed lightly against my arm as she settled in.

The room went quiet for a moment, the squad’s eyes entirely on us.

“Well,” Breaker said finally, sliding a mug of coffee toward me with a faint smirk. “Someone looks like they had a rough morning.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking the mug gratefully.

Viper grinned, leaning back in their seat. “You don't know the half of it.”

“Shut up,” I warned, but the heat in my face betrayed me.

“Hey, no judgment,” they said, raising their hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, Succupuss here seems pretty attached.”

Jin huffed softly, her tail tightening around my waist as she nuzzled against my shoulder.

“Adorable,” Viper added, clearly enjoying themselves as they reached to take the mug from me.

The end of the briefing was as sharp and clean as the rest of Reaper’s command style.

"Assignments are set," Reaper announced, his voice cutting through the low murmur of squad chatter like a blade. "You have your schedules for the week. If you don’t know where you’re supposed to be, that’s your problem, not mine." He cast a glance toward Paul, who sat stiffly with his arms crossed like he was at a military academy review board. “That includes you, Rookie. This ain’t the academy. This is the field. Miss a step, and someone dies.”

Paul’s eyes twitched, but he didn’t respond. He knew better.

“Crone,” Reaper continued, turning his attention to the sharp-eyed elven sniper. “You're cleared for full duty. I want you running overwatch drills with Watcher by Thursday, get back in the swing of things.”

Crone gave him a slow nod, her fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of dark tea. She blew on it once, unbothered. "Understood, sir."

“Breaker, I need you working with 1-7 on breach maneuvers. Our medic's slow, and I don't have patience for slow.”

Breaker rolled his shoulders, his large frame looking even bulkier in the dim training room light. "He'll keep up, or he'll stay down." His grin was sharp, not cruel, but enough to make Paul glance his way.

"Good." Reaper’s eyes swept across the room, scanning each of us in turn. "You're dismissed. Except for 1-2 and 1-4 .”

My jaw tightened as I caught Viper’s glance out of the corner of my eye. Their grin was already forming, their lips quirking like they'd just heard a joke nobody else had caught.

“Busted,” they muttered, standing with an exaggerated stretch.

"Don't make it worse, Vivi," I said quietly as we stood.

“Oh, you know I will.” They shot me a grin, hands shoved into their pockets as they sauntered toward the front of the room.

The squad filtered out, Breaker slapping my back once as he passed. Watcher followed, its long mechanical fingers tapping a quick rhythm on the doorway as it moved through, each step precise and measured. Crone gave me a glance, her sharp eyes narrowing for a second before she sipped her tea and strode away with a quiet, regal grace.

The quiet that followed was a different kind of weight.

Reaper waited until the room was clear. The second the door clicked shut behind Crone, he stepped forward, his gaze hard as granite. No bark, no growl. Just pressure. The kind you felt in your gut when you realized you were standing too close to the edge of a drop.

He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t have to. Silence was his favorite weapon.

I kept my eyes ahead, standing at ease but not too at ease. Viper leaned against the wall, tilting their head back as if this was just another lazy afternoon.

“ 1-2. ” Reaper’s voice was slow, deliberate. “ 1-4. ” His eyes flicked between the two of us. “Explain.”

"Sir," I started, voice steady. "We were on time for the briefing. Made it before the official start. No rules broken, given you called us on such a short notice."

"Funny," he said flatly, tilting his head as if he’d heard something interesting. “Didn’t ask for a technicality, Tats .”

I bit my tongue.

“You weren’t here when I started talking, missed the entire first brief,” he continued, stepping forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "So now I have to repeat myself for you. Do you know what that makes me look like?"

"Like you care about your squad?" Viper offered, grinning just wide enough to show teeth.

I braced, waiting for it.

Reaper’s gaze shifted to Viper like a rifle bolt locking into place. “Step forward, 1-4. ”

They sighed but obeyed, pushing off the wall with a lazy roll of their shoulders. Their grin was still in place, but it had lost some of its edge.

“Take off your vest.”

That made Viper pause. Their eyes darted to mine for half a second.

“Take it off,” Reaper repeated.

Viper's grin fell away as they unbuckled the straps, peeling off the tactical vest and dropping it to the floor with a heavy thud. Their shoulders were bare now, just the dark tank top beneath, the edges of their shoulder tattoos peeking out like fresh ink.

“You’re fast, right?” Reaper said, stepping closer. “Got all that speed, all that energy to run your mouth. Let’s see how fast you really are.” He raised his hand, pointing toward the far end of the training floor. "Twenty laps. Right now. No augment assists. No magic. No breaks. If I see you slow, I double it."

“Of course you will,” Viper muttered, rolling their eyes as they started toward the track.

“Want to make it thirty ?” Reaper asked, eyes narrowing.

Vivi didn’t say another word.

They started running. No slow build-up, no easing in. Full sprint. Their footfalls echoed, steady and sharp, like drumbeats.

Reaper watched them go, his eyes tracking every step, every movement. He didn’t say anything for a while. Just watched.

Then, slowly, his gaze shifted back to me.

“You think you’re clever, Tats? ” he asked, his voice quiet now, almost too calm.

“No, sir,” I said firmly.

“Good answer.” He stepped closer, hands still behind his back. "You think I don't know how you work, kid? You show up just in time, right under the wire, and think you’re untouchable. Smart enough to never cross the line, but cocky enough to lean over it.”

I didn’t answer. There wasn’t a point.

“Your biggest flaw,” he said, stepping so close I could see the small scars on his face, “is that you think you’ve figured me out.”

His eyes met mine. No anger. No disappointment. Just a quiet, razor-sharp certainty.

“You haven’t,” he said simply. “And until you do, I’m going to break every bad habit you’ve built over the past few weeks. You’ve been slipping, your performance isn’t what it was this time last year. And don’t blame your new ward, she’s been here for barely a week.”

He stepped back, his gaze never leaving me.

“No point in running you like I did 1-4,” he continued. “You’ll just dig in and grind through it. Not gonna work this time.” He tilted his head toward the mats. “Pair drills. You take every single rookie rotation today. Grapple. Spar. Do it until I’m tired of watching you beat recruits.”

I sucked in a slow breath through my nose, keeping my face still. No reaction. No frustration. Just acceptance.

“Yes, sir,” I said, my voice calm.

“That’s it,” he said, stepping past me. “You get it.”

He glanced toward where Viper was running, their breaths coming faster now, sweat already soaking into their tank top.

"You and 1-4 think you're smart," he said, his voice drifting back as he walked away. "But there's a reason I’m Reaper. I always collect."

I exhaled slowly, watching him leave.

The steady thud-thud-thud of Viper’s footsteps echoed in the background, their breathing sharp but controlled. I didn’t have to look to know they were grinning again. The kind of grin that wasn't real—just something they wore to keep from feeling the weight of it all.

I glanced at the rookies, watching as they put on their gloves for the next round of sparring. Paul was among them, his eyes already on me. His gaze sharp. Ready.

This is gonna be a long one, I thought, tugging the gloves tighter over my hands.

"Don't break 'em," Breaker called from across the room, his grin wide as ever. "We still need them for mop duty."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, walking toward the line of rookies.

I caught Watcher’s gaze as I passed. It tapped its temple with one metal finger and its biological eye gave a slow, exaggerated blink. "Your funeral, Tats ."

“Thanks, Cam,” I said, rolling my shoulders.

Paul stepped up first. Of course he did.

I didn’t say anything as we squared up. Didn’t offer a nod.

He raised his fists in a learned pose, almost certainly coming from his academy time.

I followed suit.

“Fight,” Reaper barked.

Paul moved first, fast but obvious. He swung wide—a rookie’s mistake—telegraphing every inch of the movement. My feet shifted before I even had to think about it, ducking low and stepping inside his swing.

Too easy.

I drove my shoulder into his chest, knocking him off balance just enough to keep him guessing. He stumbled back, feet scrambling for purchase.

"Sloppy," I muttered, shaking out my arms. "You swing like you're chopping firewood."

Paul's eyes narrowed, his face twisting in frustration. “You think you’re better than me?” he hissed, circling slowly, his hands raised like he’d seen it in a movie. His footwork was too stiff, his weight on his heels.

“I know I’m better than you,” I shot back, keeping my movements loose, my breath even. “And so does everyone else in this room, rookie or Alpha Squad.” I had years of experience on him, of course I was better than him. Not that I was going to tell him that. Let him think I’m teasing him.

That did it. His face flushed red, and he lunged.

I didn’t move. I didn’t need to. He was all force, no thought. I side-stepped cleanly, catching his arm with one hand and twisting it down hard. His balance tipped forward, his momentum working against him. He hit the mat face-first with a loud thud , his grunt of pain sharp and satisfying.

“Don’t lead with emotion, Rookie,” I said, releasing his arm. I stepped back, letting him roll onto his side. “You’ll get played every time.”

I glanced up to see Reaper watching from the edge of the mat, arms crossed, eyes locked onto me with that same calculating stare. He didn’t say anything, just gave a slow nod like he was checking a mental box.

Paul scrambled to his feet, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His eyes locked on me with a mix of frustration and something sharper. He didn’t like being embarrassed, especially not in front of the squad, let alone the recruits.

Good, I thought. Let it burn.

“Again,” Reaper called. “Keep it clean.”

Paul raised his fists. His stance was a little lower this time. Not perfect, but better. He’d learned something at least.

I raised my hands, shifting my weight to the balls of my feet. My eyes tracked his hips, not his hands. The hands lie. The hips tell the truth.

This time, he didn’t rush. Smart. He circled slowly, looking for an opening. The rest of the squad had gone quiet, their attention flicking between us like spectators at a fight night. Breaker leaned forward on the bench, his arms resting on his thighs, eyes sharp and watchful.

"Come on, Paul," Breaker called with a grin. "Don't let Tats dance circles around you!"

Paul's eyes flicked toward him, just for a second. Rookie mistake.

I moved. A quick step in, my left feinting high, and when he raised his arms to block, I slammed my foot behind his leg and shoved him forward. He hit the mat again, harder this time, his breath leaving him in a short, pained wheeze.

“Keep your eyes on the fight,” I said, leaning down just close enough for him to hear. “Not the crowd.”

“Alright, enough,” Reaper barked, stepping forward. “Switch partners.”

I pulled back, standing straight. My heart wasn’t pounding, but the heat of the fight was still there, simmering under the surface. My eyes stayed on Paul as he climbed to his feet slower this time, one hand pressed to his ribs. He glared at me, his breathing shallow, sharp, his jaw tight with frustration.

“You’re dead, Tats,” he muttered under his breath as he walked past.

I didn’t respond. Didn’t have to. His anger wasn’t a threat. It was just noise.

The next few sparring rounds were nothing special. I moved through the rotations, pairing up with rookies and letting them take their shots. I dodged more than I hit, but I made sure each one felt their mistakes. I didn’t have to win every round—just had to make them earn it. And earn my own freedom from Reaper’s scrutiny.

“Duck next time,” I muttered to the last rookie as they stepped off the mat, rubbing their jaw where I’d clipped them. “You see my hips turn, you duck. Simple as that.”

They nodded, still breathless.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen the ache starting to settle in. My arms felt heavier than before, the fatigue creeping in slow but steady. That’s the point, though. Wear you down until instinct takes over. Until you either break or learn.

Watcher was waiting for me at the edge of the mat. Its sleek, almost insect-like frame perched in a crouch, arms resting on its bent knees. Its metal joints clicked faintly, the hum of internal motors a subtle background noise. Its glowing optical sensors shifted, the nearly blind meat-eye next to them focusing on me before the machine did.

“Hard-fought,” it said, its synthetic voice smooth and deliberate. “But wasteful.”

“Not in the mood, Cam,” I muttered, walking past it to grab my water bottle.

The faint whir-click of its servos followed me. “Correction: You are always in the mood. Just not to hear things you already know.”

I shot it a glance, tilting my head back to gulp down water. “Shouldn’t you be plugging yourself into a wall somewhere?”

“Unnecessary,” it replied, rising from its crouch with eerie fluidity. Its limbs moved too smoothly, too perfectly, each step calculated with surgical precision. It followed me to the bench, tilting its head at an unnatural angle to look at me directly. “You’re letting 1-7 live rent-free in your head.”

“Paul?” I snorted. “He’s not worth the space.”

“Incorrect,” Watcher said, its optical sensors dimming to a dull glow. “He’s under your skin. Tells me he’s more than just noise to you.” It tilted its head again, its tone sharper this time. “You hit him harder than you should have.”

I glanced toward Reaper, who was watching the rookies spar now. He hadn’t called me out for it. Not yet, anyway.

“I’ll survive,” I muttered, tossing the water bottle back into my bag.

Watcher crouched next to me, its legs folding neatly beneath it like a spider. “Surviving isn’t winning,” it said quietly. “It’s waiting to lose.”

I shot my friend a glare. “When’d you get so philosophical?”

“Since you started making mistakes.”

The grin that tugged at my mouth was involuntary, but I didn’t stop it. “Alright, Prophet-Bot. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Watcher tilted its head again, its limbs uncurling as it rose back to full height. Its segmented fingers flexed once before it turned away, walking back toward the rest of the squad.

I should have seen it coming. Should have noticed Paul’s eyes tracking me, the way his stance had shifted. But fatigue makes fools of all of us.

The moment I stepped on the mat, I saw him waiting. Gloves on. Jaw set. Ready.

“Back again, huh?” I asked, raising my hands.

“Yeah,” he said, voice tight. “Figured I’d learn better if I practiced on you.”

I raised a brow, stepping forward. “You learn better when you get put on your ass, huh?”

“No,” he said, grinning this time. “When I get back up to beat that smile off your freak-face.”

He moved. Fast. No hesitation. No wide swings this time. His fist came in tight, low, aimed for my ribs. I blocked, but he followed with a second hit to my side, jarring my balance.

I grunted, feet sliding on the mat. Alright, Rookie. You learned something.

But two hits don’t win a fight.

I stepped in close, locking his arm under mine and driving a sharp knee toward his thigh. He twisted, breaking the hold, and shoved me back with more force than I expected.

The squad’s attention shifted. Viper leaned forward, watching intently. Breaker grinned like he was at a ringside event.

Paul stepped forward again, his hands up, his grin sharp and bright with new confidence.

“Come on, Tats,” he said, flexing his fingers. “Show me how much better you are.”

I wiped sweat from my brow and rolled my neck.

“Alright,” I muttered, eyes locking onto his.

Lesson time.

The air on the training floor shifted as I stepped back forward. There was a weight to it now, heavier than before. I could feel it in the glances from the rest of the squad and the surrounding rookies alike. Breaker sat forward on the bench, elbows on his knees, watching intently. Crone sipped her tea like this was the most natural thing in the world, but her eyes didn’t leave us for a second. Even Watcher had stopped moving, its sensors locked onto the two of us. I could see even Jin watching me, her eyes standing out among the crowd.

Paul stood on the other end of the mat, his gloves raised, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. Sweat dripped down his temple, his gaze sharp with something more than focus.

Pride. He still thinks he’s got a shot.

“Round two,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove. “What do you say, Tats? Wanna show me if you’re worth all that sympathy they keep giving you?”

The words hit like a sharp stone. Not because of what he said, but because I could hear the undertone beneath it. The implication. The bite.

Sympathy.

Not respect. Not trust. Sympathy.

I rolled my shoulders, slowly raising my fists. My heart wasn’t racing. Not yet. I didn’t feel the usual rush of adrenaline. No, this wasn’t that. This was something quieter. Heavier. Something I’d buried a long time ago.

“You sure you want this?” I asked, meeting his gaze head-on.

Paul grinned, baring his teeth like he’d already won. “Oh, I’m sure. I figure it’s about time someone put you inhuman freak back in your place.”

The room went still.

Even Viper, who always had something to say, went quiet.

Back in my place, huh?

I felt my teeth clench, the sharp grind of it echoing through my skull. My fingers curled tighter into fists, my nails pressing into my palms.

“You don’t know where I’m from,” I said quietly, stepping forward. My boots hit the mat with a steady, deliberate rhythm. “You don’t know what it took to get here.”

Paul’s grin widened, and I saw it then—he thought he’d won already. He thought those words would break me.

Instead, I felt something shift inside me. Something cold, steady, and absolutely certain.

“Start,” Reaper barked, his voice sharp as a whipcrack.

Paul moved first once again, just like I knew he would. He lunged, aiming for my ribs again. This time, I didn’t dodge.

I stepped in.

My arm shot up, catching his punch at the wrist, twisting it to the side. His momentum pulled him forward, and before he could even register what was happening, I planted my foot, twisted my hips, and drove my fist straight into his jaw.

Not a jab. Not a hook. Just raw, unfiltered force.

There was a sound. A sharp, hollow crack that echoed across the training floor. It wasn’t bone, not yet, but it was close. Paul’s head snapped back, his eyes wide with shock as his body followed the motion.

He crumpled.

No slow fall. No dramatic stumble. Just down.

His back hit the mat with a heavy thud, his limbs splaying out like a puppet with its strings cut. The only sound after that was the sharp intake of breath from the people surrounding us.

“Shit,” Viper muttered, eyes wide.

Breaker winced, sucking air through his teeth like he was the one who’d been hit. Crone raised an eyebrow, her teacup hovering just below her lips. Watcher’s optical sensors flickered twice in rapid succession, its head tilting just slightly.

I stayed where I was, my fist still raised, my chest heaving in slow, steady breaths. My knuckles throbbed, a dull ache creeping in now that the moment had passed and the flesh was slowly beginning to knit itself back together. I could feel the faint warmth of it, the pulse of blood moving under my skin.

Paul didn’t move.

“Damn,” Viper muttered, leaning back against the bench. “Didn’t know you had that left in you after this morning.”

“Tats,” Reaper’s voice cut through the quiet, his tone sharp and heavy with warning. “Step off the mat. Now.”

I glanced down at Paul one last time. He was breathing, shallow but steady. His eyes were closed, his jaw slack. He wasn’t dead. Not even close. Shame.

But he’d remember this.

I turned, dropping my hands to my sides, and walked off the mat without a word. My footsteps felt heavier now. My chest felt tight, not from exertion, but from the weight of it all.

Back in my place.

Reaper’s hand caught my shoulder as soon as I was off the mat. It wasn’t hard. Didn’t need to be. The weight of it was enough.

“Control,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You lost it.”

I glanced back at him, my face carefully neutral. “I had control.”

“Not of yourself,” he replied, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t give me that excuse.” He leaned in closer, his voice sharp enough to carve stone. “I don’t care if he deserved it. You think Command’s gonna see it that way?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. We both knew how they’d see it.

Reaper let me go with a shove, not hard, but enough to send a message. “Locker room. Now. Go shower.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t have it in me. My jaw was tight, my breath slow and deliberate as I walked toward the locker room. Every step felt heavier than the last.

The sound of footsteps followed behind me.

Vivi. Of course.

“So...” they said, dragging out the word as they walked alongside me. “That was something, huh?”

“Don’t,” I muttered, rubbing my knuckles.

“No, no, I’m serious,” they said, their grin audible in their voice. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you finally found that gargoyle temper of yours again.”

“Shut up, Viv.”

They laughed, the sound bright and sharp. “What? You want me to lie to you? ‘Cause I saw it, Rak. Everybody saw it.” They stepped in front of me, walking backward, eyes locked on mine. “You’re pissed. And not just at him. So spill. What’s got you ready to put rookies in the dirt?”

I didn’t answer right away. My gaze flicked to the floor, to the scuffed boots I’d worn through too many fights. “He called me a freak,” I muttered.

Viper blinked. Their grin faded, eyes softening just slightly.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, my hands flexing at my sides. “Heard that enough growing up, but today… I just—”

“Yeah,” Viper said, stepping aside to walk next to me again. They didn’t say anything else for a moment, just kept pace with me. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... steady.

“Next time,” they finally said, glancing over at me, “aim for the chest. Hits harder, less evidence.”

I huffed a quiet laugh, my shoulders relaxing just a bit.

“Locker room,” I muttered as we reached the door. “Shut up before Crone starts giving me advice too.”

“Hey,” Viper said with a smirk, “Crone’s got centuries on you. You should be asking her for pointers.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, but I wasn’t mad. Not anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it.

I pushed open the door, and the cool air of the locker room hit like a splash of cold water. The hum of the overhead lights buzzed faintly, the distant thud of boots echoing from down the hall. I grabbed a towel from the rack, tossing one to Viper as well.

“Think Reaper’s gonna write me up?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my face.

Viper shrugged, untying their hair to let their locs fall over their shoulders. “Nah, you’re good as long as Paul doesn’t rat to command or daddy dearest,” they said, glancing at me with a grin. “But he’ll make you pay for it in drills tomorrow.”

I sighed, tossing the towel over my head. “Of course he will.”

“Hey,” Viper said, their grin sharp and full of trouble. “At least Paul won’t be joining us.”

We both laughed, low and tired, but it felt good.

The clang of my locker door shutting echoed louder than I expected. My fingers lingered on the cool metal for a moment before I stepped back, letting out a slow breath through my nose.

“‘You sure you want this,’ huh?” Vivi drawled from next to me, tugging their vest off one shoulder and tossing it onto the bench with a wet thwap. “Dramatic much, Tats?”

I shot them a look, my lips tugging into an embarrassed grin despite myself. “What can I say? You must be finally rubbing off with the one-liners.”

“Yeah, well, you sure picked a winner,” they snorted, yanking their training shirt over their head. Their dark, sweat-damp skin glistened under the bright fluorescent overhead lights. “Sounded like something out of a bad action flick. All you needed was the slow-motion walk towards the guy.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Breaker muttered, pulling off his gloves with a grunt. His voice had that low, gravelly calm that made you feel like he’d seen every mistake you could possibly make—and had the patience to correct you anyway. “Tats already walks around like they’re two inches taller after pulling stunts like that.”

“It's the horns, Break,” Viper shot back, flicking a grin toward me. “The imaginary ones. Or the ones that succubus walks around with, that helps too I reckon.”

“Better horns than a head full of hot air,” I quipped, untying my boots.

Viper barked a short laugh, one sharp ha! that echoed off the tiles. They flopped down onto the bench, leaning forward with their elbows on their knees. “All these years with me and your one-liners still don’t hit,” they countered. “Still, I give the line a solid seven out of ten. Could’ve used a little more snarl.” They curled their hands like claws, their grin sharp as a blade. “Really dig in, you know?”

“Noted,” I muttered, tugging my boot off with more force than necessary. It hit the ground with a dull thud . “Next time, I’ll make sure to consult you for pre-fight quips before fighting anyone.”

“Please do,” Viper said, grinning like they’d already won. “I’m a master of the form.”

“Master of being a menace,” Breaker muttered, rolling his shoulders. The movement made his whole frame shift, muscles tightening under his skin like cables drawn taut. The guy was built like a tank, every inch of him thick with muscle and bulk. It didn’t matter how many drills we ran—Breaker never seemed to slow down.

“Someone’s gotta keep things interesting,” Viper shot back.

“Interesting’s not always good, Vi,” Breaker grumbled, unlacing his boots with slow, methodical precision. His movements were the kind of slow that came from experience—no rush, no wasted effort.

“Interesting’s always good,” Viper countered, leaning back with their arms stretched behind them, grinning up at the ceiling like they’d already won the argument.

“Tell that to Paul,” Breaker said without looking up.

Viper snorted. “Nah, I’d need to use smaller words to match the academy levels.”

That earned a rare chuckle from Breaker—a low, short huh that was gone as quick as it came.

“Careful, he’s still got that jaw to nurse,” I muttered, pulling off my second boot. My hands were slower than I wanted them to be, fingers stiff from the strain of earlier. The ache had settled deep into my bones, making every movement feel twice as heavy.

“Poor Rookie,” Viper said, feigning pity as they rubbed at their eyes like they were wiping away tears. “Guy’s gonna be drinking soup for a week.”

“Better than what he deserved,” Breaker said, his tone quiet but firm. He set his boots aside with careful precision, his eyes flicking toward me. “Glad you didn’t finish it, Rak’. Would’ve been more trouble than it’s worth. Especially with those parents of his.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, flexing my fingers. They still felt tight, the skin across my knuckles raw, but slowly healing. “I know.”

We let the quiet settle for a moment. No more teasing, no more talk about Paul. The only sounds left were the clang of lockers opening and closing, the shuffle of boots being kicked off, and the low hum of the showers running just beyond the wall. The kind of noise you don’t notice until you’re trying to listen for something else.

“Hey,” Watcher’s voice chimed in suddenly, cutting clean through the lull in conversation. Its voice had that tinny, distorted undertone thanks to the voice modulator it used—too many augmentations in its throat and chest for natural speech to come through clean. The volume wasn’t loud, but it carried, like a radio transmission cutting through static.

I turned my head to see it strolling toward the lockers, its movements smooth, precise, and too clean—like a machine following pre-programmed steps. Its arms moved just a little too perfectly in sync with its legs. Augments did that to people. It pulled off its jacket, revealing the black mesh of under-armor covering its torso and the segmented cybernetic joints of its arms.

“Good hit on Paul,” Watcher said casually, tilting its head at me in that way only it could do—just a few degrees too sharp to be natural. “Predictable reaction. Poor reaction time.”

“That supposed to be a compliment, Cam?” I asked, yanking my shirt off and tossing it aside. It landed on the bench with a wet slap.

“Observation,” Watcher replied, setting its jacket neatly into its locker. “Combat pattern recognition. He’s slower than you. Poor coverage on left flank. If you have to swing again, aim for the cheekbone. Better results. Might break something, though.”

Viper snickered, tilting their head toward me. “Hear that, Tats? Next time, aim higher.”

“No ‘next time,’” Breaker grunted, glancing between me and Watcher. “No second swings. First one’s gotta count. What happens next is up to him.”

“Agreed,” Watcher said, its mechanical fingers flexing like it was running diagnostics on itself.

“Glad we’ve all become experts on hitting Paul,” I muttered, grabbing my towel. “Real productive use of squad time.”

“Gotta train for what we’re good at,” Viper said, grabbing their own towel. “And apparently, you’re good at putting rookies in their place.”

“Go to hell, Vivi,” I muttered, though there wasn’t much bite behind it.

They winked at me as they stood. “I’ll save you a seat.”

The mood lightened as the squad shifted from locker talk to shower prep. Towels were slung over shoulders, bottles of soap snatched from lockers, and boots were shoved into corners. Watcher moved in that same unsettling, fluid way toward the showers, its steps perfectly even. Viper followed close behind, walking with a swagger that was more exhaustion than confidence.

I grabbed my soap and towel, tossing both over my shoulder as I trailed after them. The low ache everywhere hadn’t gone away, but it had dulled to something easier to ignore. A few minutes of hot water, and I’d feel alive again.

The steady hiss of showers grew louder as we stepped closer, the fog of steam curling out from the tile stalls like mist from a forest floor. The air grew warmer, heavier, until every breath felt thick.

Viper stepped into the nearest open stall, tossing their towel onto the hook just outside before turning the water on. The sharp hiss of hot water echoed through the space, followed by a pleased groan as they stuck their head under the spray. “Oh, yeah,” they muttered, their voice echoing faintly. “That’s the good stuff.”

I stepped in after them, tossing my towel onto the hook beside theirs. The water had already started to heat up, steam curling in the air around us. Viper was quick to grab the soap, lathering up.

“Back or front?” they asked, glancing over their shoulder.

“Back,” I muttered, already turning around.

They snorted. “Thought so.”

I let my head drop forward, letting the water cascade down my shoulders, washing away the sweat and grime from drills. The tension in my back slowly unraveled as Viper’s hands pressed against my shoulders, scrubbing in firm, practiced circles. It was an old routine, one we’d fallen into so naturally over the years that it barely felt like thinking.

We’d done this after long days on the streets, washing off dirt and blood in sink basins with stolen soap. The muscle memory never left.

“You’re quiet,” Viper said after a while. Their tone was still light, but there was a thread of something more serious beneath it.

“Thinking,” I muttered, tilting my head to let the water hit my neck.

“Dangerous pastime,” they shot back, rinsing the soap from their hands.

“Keep talking, Vivi,” I muttered, groaning as their hands worked my back. “See what happens.”

“Promises, promises,” they shot back.

My eyes rolled on instinct, and I reached up to rub at the back of my neck. The tightness was still there, knotted muscle straining like over-pulled cord. I was so focused on the warmth of the shower and Viv’s hands that I almost missed the prickle of awareness—the faint pull at the edge of my senses that told me someone was watching. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obvious. But it was there.

I turned my head just a fraction, catching movement near the entryway to the showers.

Jin.

Her sharp eyes watched me from the threshold, her hands balled into fists. She didn’t move, didn’t step forward. She just watched.

My heart did a weird, stupid lurch.

Shit.

“Uh-oh,” Viper murmured, already grinning as they glanced between me and the angry succubus. “Looks like someone’s not happy about our little routine.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“Come here,” I said, keeping my voice low. “It’s alright. I should’ve come to find you after the drills. I just—”

Her ears twitched, her gaze softening just a fraction. Slowly, she stepped into the stall, her gaze never leaving mine. The space was suddenly feeling much smaller.

Her tail looped tightly around my calf, a firm, grounding pressure that never strayed far. Steam curled around us, clinging to skin and hair, the air so thick with warmth that every breath felt like drinking from a hot spring.

Jin’s eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking, sharp with intent as she growled low.

“Easy, love,” I murmured, brushing my wet fingers against her arm. Her gaze flicked down to where we touched, her fingers twitching faintly as if considering taking hold of me.

“Easy, huh?” Viper muttered, stepping to the side with a grin so wide I could practically hear it. “Didn’t realize she was the boss now, Tats. You always roll over this quick for a pair of pretty tits? Maybe I should’ve kept mine after all.”

“Vivi,” I said, glancing at them from the corner of my eye. “Not. Helping.”

“Sure I am,” they said, still grinning as they reached for the soap. “I’m building camaraderie. Bonding experience. Isn’t that what Reaper’s always on about?” They clicked their tongue and passed the soap into Jin’s hands, tilting their head at her with that same sharp grin. “Here, newbie. Since you’re so eager, you might as well make yourself useful.”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as broken glass, but she took the soap without hesitation. Her fingers brushed against Viper’s for a brief second, and I watched the subtle flick of her tail—just the smallest, warning twitch.

“Vivi,” I warned.

“What?” They held up their hands, grinning as they backed into the corner, making room for Jin to move closer to me. “I’m being nice. Friendly, even. Look at me, so generous.”

“Generous would be leaving,” I muttered, turning back to Jin. Her eyes flicked to mine, her silent request clear. She handed me the soap and grabbed the hem of her shirt. Her movements were slow, gaze fixed on me as she pulled the fabric upward, folding it neatly before placing it on the edge of the stall. Her pants followed, and she stepped forward into the steam, her tail still holding onto my leg as she moved past Viper, dragging me with her.

The space was suddenly even smaller.

Her eyes never left mine as she lathered the soap in her palms, building it into a frothy layer before running her hands over me with the concentration of someone trying to memorize something tactile, like she was learning what clean felt like.

“Careful,” Viper said with a wide grin, leaning against the wall. “She might kick me out.”

“Don’t tempt her,” I muttered, watching as Jin’s hands moved to my chest, her touch firm but careful, like she was trying to smooth away every mark on me with her palms. Her thumbs brushed the runes on my breasts, following their curves with slow intent. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, checking for something unspoken.

“Keep going,” I murmured, leaning into her touch just slightly. Her gaze softened, a small shift, but I caught it.

“Hey, if she kicks me out, I’m the one getting cheated here,” Viper quipped, tossing their head back into the water spray with a satisfied sigh. “You know how long it’s been since we’ve had a good three-person shower? Not since Deacon’s bachelor party.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, closing my eyes as Jin pressed herself against my chest to wash my back, craving body contact over convenience.

“You were all over me that night,” Viper added with a sly grin. “Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

I let out a long, slow breath, trying to keep my composure, but my face betrayed me as I felt the heat crawl up my neck. “That was different.”

“Different how?” Viper turned, water cascading down their back in thick rivulets, their eyes half-lidded with that same lazy confidence they’d always had. They pushed off the wall, stepping up behind me, their grin razor-sharp.

“You were drunk,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand through my wet hair. “ We were drunk.”

“Mmhm,” they hummed, crowding in a little closer, their hands light on my sides, fingers curling against my waist. “And now you’re sober. So what’s stopping you this time?”

They knew exactly what they were doing, and I hated how well it worked.

“Her,” I muttered, glancing at Jin, who had gone completely still. Her eyes were locked on my friend, her tail flicking once, sharp as a whip-crack.

“Don’t worry, Succupuss,” Viper purred, raising their hands in mock surrender, though their grin never wavered. “I’m just teasing. Raku’s all yours. Mostly.” They tossed me a wink and stepped aside, swiping the soap from Jin’s hands as casually as someone borrowing a pen.

Jin’s eyes followed them, her gaze sharp and cutting, but she didn’t move. She didn’t need to. Her hands returned to me, her fingers slower this time, more intentional. Her claws were retracted, her grip firm but safe, like she knew exactly how much pressure to use.

Viper whistled low as they soaped up their arms, shooting me a knowing look. “Man, I almost feel bad for you, Rak’. She’s got you locked in tight.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, my voice thick with something between frustration and amusement.

“Not even a denial.” Viper snickered, turning their back to me and tilting their head. “Wanna get my back, Tats? Feels wrong to miss out on all our traditions.”

I rolled my eyes but grabbed the soap from their hands. Jin let me turn in her arms when I accepted. “Turn around,” I said, pointing at Viper’s back.

“Oh, I love it when you take charge,” they teased, turning with a little wiggle of their hips.

“Shut up,” I said again, but I still pressed my palms to their back, working the soap into a lather over their shoulders. Their skin was warm, rough from old scars. The familiarity of it, the routine, was almost as grounding as the feel of Jin’s touch on me.

Jin watched, her eyes flicking between us, her tail’s grip loosening just slightly. Not enough to let me go, but enough to show she wasn’t as tense. Her eyes stayed sharp, tracking every movement, but there was no hostility in it now.

“See?” I said softly, glancing at her. “This is just normal. Routine.”

Her eyes lingered on my hands as they moved over Viper’s back, watching with the intensity of someone trying to untangle a foreign language. Her fingers flexed at her sides, and I knew that she wanted to understand.

Viper glanced over their shoulder, one brow raised. “You could help, you know.”

Jin didn’t move right away, but then she reached out, one slow, deliberate hand pressed against Viper’s side. Her eyes met mine as she did it, her claws retracted, her hand steady.

“Look at that,” Viper grinned, leaning forward just a bit to give her space. “Teamwork.”

I snorted softly, my hands still moving down Viper’s spine. “Don’t start.”

“Too late,” they shot back, closing their eyes with a content sigh.

Between the heat of the water, the weight of Jin’s presence, and the easy rhythm of old routines, I felt something settle in my chest—a kind of stillness I hadn’t realized I needed.

The air was warm. The water was warm. Their touch was warm.

I leaned forward just a little, resting my forehead lightly on Viper’s back, feeling the solid weight of them under my skin. Jin’s hand pressed firm against my arm, grounding me from the other side.

The water poured down around us, a steady rush of warmth that drowned out the world beyond the stall. Steam curled up in soft tendrils, clinging to every surface, turning everything into a hazy blur of movement and heat. My eyes felt heavy, the warmth lulling me into a recently annoyingly rare moment of peace.

Jin’s hand pressed against my arm, her claws gently tracing the line of a rune near my elbow. Her touch was light, curious, like she was following the patterns just to feel the texture. The warmth of her palm seeped into my skin, and I let out a slow breath, leaning further into her.

But in front of me, Viper wasn’t one to be ignored.

“Don’t get too cozy,” they muttered, turning their head just enough for their voice to cut through the rush of water. “I’m still here, you know.”

I felt their back shift against me, the slick press of skin on skin. Viper leaned back, letting their weight settle more firmly against my chest. Their locs, damp and clinging to their head, brushed against my chin. They rolled their shoulders, shifting just enough that I felt them, really felt them.

“Careful, Vivi,” I muttered, tilting my head forward to rest my forehead lightly against their back again. The water ran in slow rivulets down both of us, pooling at the base of my spine before trailing lower.

“Careful?” Viper said, their grin audible. “Pretty sure I’m the one in control right now.” They shifted their hips, slow and deliberate, grinding against me just enough to make a point.

I sucked in a slow breath through my nose, my eyes narrowing as I glanced down at them. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Yeah?” Viper shot back, their voice low and teasing. Their hips rolled again, this time slower, the motion smooth as silk. “Then burn me.”

Jin’s tail whipped sharply behind her, the soft thwap barely audible over the sound of the water. Her hand on my arm shifted, her claws pressing a little harder—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me she was there.

Her eyes flicked toward Viper, then up at me, her gaze sharp and focused like she was sizing me up. Without a word, she stepped in closer, the warm softness of her chest pressing against my side. Her other hand slid up my arm, fingers curling possessively against the muscles of my bicep.

“Easy, love,” I said softly, meeting her gaze head-on. “This is normal.”

Her lips parted slightly as she tilted her head, eyes narrowed, expression somewhere between curiosity and challenge. Her tail curled slowly around my leg, looping once before giving a sharp tug, pulling me just a fraction closer to her. She put a hand on the back of my head and pulled me down to her, pushing her tongue into my mouth in a sloppy kiss, as if making sure I knew whom I belonged to.

Viper let out a soft laugh, glancing over their shoulder at us. “See? She knows what’s up.” They pressed back against me once more, slow and deliberate, like they had all the time in the world. Their voice dropped lower, turning into a near-purr. “Bet she’s thinking the same thing I am.”

“Doubt it,” I said flatly after breaking the kiss, giving them a firm nudge with my knee against the back of their thigh. “You think with one thing and one thing only.”

“Don’t act like you’re any better,” Viper shot back, their eyes narrowing with mock offense. “I know exactly where your head’s at, and it’s not any higher than mine.” They tilted their head, just enough for their cheek to brush against my jawline. “Admit it, Tats. You like it when we push.”

Jin’s gaze darted between us, sharp as a blade, and I swore I saw her eyes narrow just a little more. Her fingers dug into my arm, claws pressing lightly into my skin as if to say, Mine.

My gaze shifted to her, and I tilted my head just enough to bump our foreheads together. “You alright?” I asked softly. “I know this is… different.”

Her eyes stayed on me, unwavering despite the lack of distance. Her hand on my arm slid down, her fingers curling over my wrist as she pulled it toward her. Her intent was clear even before I felt her guide my hand to her hip, pressing it firmly there like she was daring me to move it.

Alright, then.

I let my hand rest there for a moment, feeling the slow shift of her muscles under her skin as she adjusted her stance. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, unwavering, expectant. Deciding to indulge her I squeezed, just enough to let her feel it. Her eyes half-lidded, her ears twitching faintly as she leaned into the contact.

Viper clicked their tongue, watching the exchange with obvious amusement. “Look at you,” they teased, leaning their head back just enough to catch my eye. “Caught between a storm and a wildfire.”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, my voice low and rough, “at least I’m warm.”

Viper’s grin widened. “Could be warmer.” They turned fully, hands braced against the wall behind me as they leaned in, their nose close enough to brush against mine. Their eyes searched mine, their grin shifting into something a little more sincere. “We always did keep each other warm, huh?”

“Don’t get sappy on me,” I said, but the words came out softer than I meant them to.

“Too late.” Viper’s eyes flicked down to my lips for half a second before they pulled back with a grin. “You know how I get after a fight. Well… watching one, in this case.”

Jin’s tail flicked, the sharp motion drawing both of our attention. Her gaze was locked on Vivi, steady and watchful. She didn’t growl, didn’t bare her teeth—she didn’t need to. Her posture said everything.

“Alright, alright,” Viper muttered, holding up their hands in mock surrender. “I get it. I’ll play nice.”

Jin didn’t move for a moment, her eyes still locked on them. Then, slowly, she leaned in, pressing her face against my shoulder, peppering me with kisses. Her breath was warm against my skin, her body molding against mine in a way that made it clear where she thought I belonged.

Viper snorted softly, grabbing the soap and lathering up. “Not bad, succupuss,” they said, turning to face the water. “You’re learning fast.”

“Don’t push her,” I muttered, running a hand lightly along Jin’s back, feeling the warmth of her skin under my palm. “I’m not holding her back if she decides to push you into a wall.”

“Wall, huh?” Viper shot me a grin. “You know me, Tats. I like it rough.”

The words hung there for a moment before I heard Jin’s low, rumbling huff. I glanced at her, catching the faintest glint of amusement in her eyes. Her tail again looped once around my leg, giving a light, playful tug.

The weight of everything else—the drills, the punishment, the constant hum of exhaustion—all of it faded for just a moment. It was just the three of us, warmth and water and laughter echoing softly in the steam.

The closeness wasn’t something I’d asked for, but it was something I needed nonetheless.

Viper scrubbed the soap over their chest, glancing over at me with that same cocky grin they’d worn since we were kids. “You know, if she’s gonna get all cuddly, you could at least let me have one of your arms.”

Jin’s tail swatted at them.

Viper somehow dodged it, laughing as they grabbed my wrist and pulled it toward them, draping it over their shoulder like we’d done countless times before. They leaned back, letting their weight rest on me, head tilted just enough to bump against mine.

“Lovebirds,” they muttered, eyes closing as their grin softened.

“Shut up,” I murmured, letting my eyes close as well, my body caught in that place between warmth and weightlessness.

“Make me. You know you’ve got something to put in my mouth,” they countered, and I could hear the grin in their voice.

I didn’t bother responding, instead listening to the background chatter of the other mercs around us.

The three of us stayed in the quiet rush of steam and water, unwilling to move.

Not yet.

The hiss of the shower tapered off, leaving only the soft patter of water droplets falling from our bodies to the tiled floor. The warmth of the steam lingered in the air, curling in soft, ghostly ribbons around us. For a moment, none of us moved. The weight of the heat, the water, and the shared closeness felt like something that didn’t need to be rushed.

Viper was the first to break it, peeling away from where they’d leaned against me. They flicked water from their hands with sharp, deliberate snaps, grinning like they’d just pulled off a heist.

“Alright, lovebirds,” they muttered, grabbing their towel from the hook just outside the stall. “Time to make ourselves presentable. I know Reaper said we’ve got an hour, but if I show up soggy, he’s gonna have a field day.”

“Let him,” I muttered, tilting my head back against the wall for just a second longer. The warmth of the water still lingered on my skin, a slow pulse of heat that refused to fade.

“Big talk for someone who was punished alongside me,” Viper said, tossing their towel over their head and ruffling their hair like a dog shaking off rain. “Bet he calls you out anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, pushing off the wall.

Jin’s tail uncurled from my leg as I moved, her eyes tracking me with that steady focus she always had. Her gaze flicked briefly to Viper before settling on me again, her claws tapping idly against her thigh as she watched, her posture speaking volumes. Close. Stay close.

I reached for the shower’s lever and turned it all the way to the right, cutting off the last of the water. The absence of it was jarring, the cold air nipping at my skin almost instantly. I shivered, brushing a hand over my arms to chase away the chill.

Jin moved with me, her hands resting on my waist as she leaned in close. Her horns nudged the side of my jaw, and I felt her breathe me in like she was committing the scent of me to memory. I could feel her breath against my neck, warm and soft in the humid air.

Her breath hitched softly. Her fingers dug in just a little more firmly on my hips.

I glanced down at her, catching the flicker of something sharper in her eyes—a look I knew all too well. The corners of her lips quirked into a sly little smile, her eyes half-lidded and focused solely on me.

“Here?” I murmured, leaning my head down to meet her gaze, water still dripping from my hair.

Jin responded by making a soft mewing noise. She tilted her head just enough to press her lips to mine, soft at first, then firmer, needier. Her hands gripped my waist more tightly as she pulled me in, her body still slick and warm from the shower. The faint scrape of her claws barely registered past the slow roll of her hips against mine.

My breath hitched, and I felt her smile against my mouth. Little troublemaker.

I kissed her back, one hand settling against the small of her back, the other slipping up to her cheek. Her skin was soft, damp with steam, and the warmth of her body pressed so perfectly against mine that it felt like we’d always fit like this. She hummed softly, her hands sliding from my waist up to my ribs, her thumbs brushing over the runes etched into my sides.

“Not right now,” I muttered between kisses, but I didn’t pull away. Not immediately.

Her tail coiled slowly around my leg, tugging me closer, her chest pressing firmly against mine. I bit back a groan as her hands explored more freely, her fingers daring to wander.

“Jin,” I warned softly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. Her pupils were wide, her breathing slow and heavy. “Later.”

Her eyes narrowed at that, her claws pressing into my sides just enough to make me hiss.

“Later,” I said firmly, leaning in to nudge her forehead with mine. She huffed, her breath hot against my neck, but she didn’t push further.

Her lips brushed against the side of my jaw before she finally relented, stepping back just enough to give me space. Her gaze lingered on me like she was making sure I knew she wasn’t done with me just yet.

Yeah, I got the message.

Viper’s voice cut through the fog like a slap. “You two gonna stand there making out, or are you actually getting dressed today?”

“Be honest Vivs, you're enjoying the show,” I muttered, reaching for my towel and draping it over my head.

They winked at me. “Maybe.”

The mood shifted, from slow, steady touches to the familiar shuffle of post-shower routine. Towels were pulled from hooks, lockers clanged open, and the room buzzed with the low murmur of our squad mates exchanging tired words.

I scrubbed at my hair, toweling it dry before wrapping the towel around my waist. Jin followed close behind, her sharp gaze flicking between me and Viper as she reached for her towel. She didn’t rush like the rest of us—every motion of hers was deliberate, calm, so long as she was close to me. She moved like she had all the time in the world.

Then again, she’s not running on soldier time like the rest of us.

Her eyes landed on my towel, an expression I'd grown to recognize by now on her face.

"Eyes up here," I chided her gently, to which she responded by staring at my tits instead with a grin that said she knew exactly what she was doing. I nudged her shoulder. "Very funny."

Viper had already tugged on their tank top, their hair still damp and curling slightly at the edges. They grinned at me as they pulled on their jacket. “Don’t keep Reaper waiting, Tats. You know how he gets when his schedule’s thrown off.”

“I was reminded enough of that today,” I muttered, pulling on my pants and reaching for my shirt. “You heading to your quarters?”

“Got a thing to grab,” they said, rolling their shoulders like it was nothing. “I’ll meet you at the mess if I’m not dead first.”

“Don’t make me fetch you,” I warned.

“Fetch me?” They raised a brow, grinning like a devil. “What am I, a stray?”

“Strays have better survival instincts,” I shot back.

They laughed, slinging their bag over their shoulder. “Careful, Rak'. You’re starting to sound like me.”

“Gods help me,” I muttered, shaking my head.

Viper stepped toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at us. Their grin shifted, softer, almost fond. “One hour, lovebirds,” they called, pointing two fingers at me. “Don’t be late.”

The door swung shut behind them, and the room fell quieter in their absence. I pulled my shirt over my head, letting it settle on my shoulders. The familiar weight of it was a small comfort.

Jin perched herself on the bench, watching me with a look that was far too focused. Her tail flicked once, curling around her leg, but her eyes stayed on me. Her ears twitched slightly, like she’d heard something I hadn’t.

“Come on,” I said, offering her a hand. “Let’s get to the mess before they run out of something decent.”

She let me help her up, her hand fitting into mine like it had always belonged. Her grip was firm but not forceful, her claws retracted as her fingers laced loosely with mine.

The walk back through the halls was quiet but not silent. The hum of overhead lights buzzed faintly, distant echoes of squadmates' voices carrying from around the corner. The cool air felt sharp against my still-damp skin, but Jin’s presence at my side made it bearable. Her tail flicked lightly behind her, swaying in time with each step.

The smell of food hit us before we even reached the mess hall. Warm spices, bread, and the faint scent of something fried. My stomach let out a deep, hollow growl, loud enough to make Jin glance at me.

“Don’t,” I muttered.

Her ears flicked once, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

We stepped into the mess together, the hum of conversation wrapping around us like the warmth of a hearth.

The mess hall buzzed with life — trays clattering against metal rails, voices overlapping in uneven waves, and the faint hum of the old ventilation system trying to keep up with the press of warm bodies. It was a familiar storm of movement, routine and chaos blended into one.

Jin stuck close to my side as we entered, her gaze sweeping the room like she expected a threat to leap out from one of the tables. Her hand brushed against my arm every few steps, a fleeting, grounding touch that I barely noticed until it was gone. Her tail flicked with a slow, measured rhythm behind her, a telltale sign of her unease.

“Food first,” I muttered, mostly to myself, though I knew she’d catch it. My stomach once again rumbled loud enough to draw her attention.

Jin’s ears flicked toward me, and her gaze lifted to mine with a lopsided grin. Her lips curled just a little at the edges, that faint spark of mischief I’d learned to recognize.

“Don’t say it,” I grumbled, brushing past her toward the food line.

Her grin grew. She didn’t have to say a thing.

The serving line was a gauntlet of tired mercenaries with bottomless appetites and too little patience. Clusters of them jostled for position, shuffling forward in uneven bursts. Boots scraped the floor, trays clattered, and someone muttered something that earned them a sharp elbow from what looked to be Breaker. He didn’t even look back to see if they got the message.

I grabbed two trays from the stack and passed one to Jin. She took it with both hands, her eyes scanning the line like she was still trying to figure out the "rules" of it.

“It’s a free-for-all,” I said, nudging her forward. “Take what you want. Nobody’s gonna stop you.”

Her gaze lingered on me for half a second longer than I expected before she nodded and stepped forward. Her fingers gripped the edge of the tray like she was bracing for a fight.

Once we actually got to the food I focused on loading up. Roasted meat, a thick stew ladled over rice, two skewers stacked with seared cuts of something I didn’t recognize but smelled too good to question. I grabbed a pair of rolls and, after a moment of hesitation, tossed on a piece of fruit just to round things out. My tray was teetering at the edge of "too much," but I wasn’t in the mood to care.

Jin seemingly moved more thought out, her eyes darting between options. She snagged a small loaf of bread, eyed the fruit bin for a moment, and finally plucked one from the stack, before continuing her perusal. Her tray was more balanced than mine — fewer piles, more thought behind each choice.

“Smart,” I said, gesturing toward her tray as we reached the end of the line. “You’ll be eating clean while I’m over here with my ‘just shove it on the plate’ strategy.”

Her ears twitched, and she tilted her head, her gaze dropping to my tray with exaggerated scrutiny. Her eyes flicked back to mine, her lips pressed together in a mock-serious line.

“Don’t judge me,” I said, shifting the weight of my tray. “I’ve earned this.”

We scanned the mess hall for seats. Most of the tables were full of mercs talking loudly, eating too fast, or dragging themselves through whatever post-drill exhaustion hadn’t fully hit them yet. I spotted Viper across the room, already seated with Watcher. Vivi caught my eye and waved a roll at me like a victory flag, grinning wide enough to show teeth.

After responding with a smile of my own I decided against heading for them. Too many people. At the far end of the room, sitting at one of the smaller, quieter tables, was Crone.

Her frame was unmistakable. Even seated, she had the presence of someone who knew exactly where she belonged in every room she entered. Tall, long-limbed, and willowy, her silver-and-gold braid draped neatly over one shoulder like it had been arranged on purpose. Her back was straight, her posture effortless but firm. As basically always she cradled a steaming mug of tea in her hands, the oversized voids of her eyes scanning slowly over the room like she was measuring every person she saw.

“Come on,” I muttered to Jin, tilting my head toward Crone.

Crone’s gaze met mine as we approached, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. It wasn’t suspicion — more like she’d already sized me up, decided I was acceptable, and had nothing else to prove. Her eyes shifted to Jin briefly, taking in the sway of her tail, the sharpness of her horns, and the quiet control in her movements. She didn’t stare, didn’t comment.

“Mind if we join you?” I asked, balancing my tray on my hip.

Crone lifted her mug just slightly, a silent invitation. “Not at all,” she said softly. Her voice was low and calm, like a slow breeze through old branches.

I set my tray down with a quiet clatter and slid onto the bench. Jin sat beside me, her tail curling loosely around her leg. She glanced at Crone once, just once, before she turned her focus to her food. She picked up the piece of fruit she’d grabbed earlier, turning it over in her hands like she was still deciding if it was real.

“You’ve been busy,” Crone said, taking a small sip of her tea. Her eyes shifted from me to Jin, her gaze sharp as ever. “Though I hear that’s par for the course with you these days.”

“Could say that,” I muttered, tearing into the bread roll. The crust crunched between my teeth, and I leaned forward on my elbows as I chewed. “How’s the leg?”

“Functional,” Crone said, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Medics did their part. Magic the rest. Breaker made it sound worse than it was. Something about ‘a tree snapping in half.’”

“Sounds like him,” I said, snorting. “He has a way with words. Calling the only true elf around a tree.”

Crone’s gaze didn’t waver. She leaned forward, her fingers tapping lightly against her mug. “And you?” she asked, her tone deceptively light. “How are you holding up with... everything?”

Her eyes flicked meaningfully to Jin. I didn’t miss the shift.

“Managing,” I said carefully. “It’s been... a lot.”

“Intense,” she said, like she already knew. “Soul-bonds usually are.”

I froze mid-bite, my eyes snapping to hers. “You can tell?”

Her smile was small but steady. “Of course. Even if I wasn’t this attuned to magic, it’d be obvious. You’re not exactly subtle, Raku. You are always leaking magic, even despite your tattoos, after all.”

I frowned, glancing at Jin. She was focused on her food but had slowed her chewing. She wasn’t missing a word.

“It’s been five days,” I muttered, half to myself. “Five days, and it already feels like...”

“Like you’d do anything for her,” Crone finished for me, her gaze soft but sharp as ever. “That’s the bond at work. Amplifying whatever you might have started out at. But it’s not fake, Raku. It’s not something it created out of nothing.”

I nodded slowly. “It’s... fast, though,” I said, my voice low. “Feels fast.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “It’s supposed to,” she said. “That’s what bonds do. They accelerate things that were already there. They don’t create them, but they amplify them.” She leaned back, watching me for a long moment. “But if I had to guess, you’d have done this with or without the bond. You’ve always been like that.”

Her words hit harder than I expected.

“When I saw her,” I muttered, glancing at Jin again, “I saw someone who didn’t have a chance. I thought, maybe this time, I can give someone a chance.”

Crone’s gaze softened in that sharp, ancient way. “You wanted to be the person you needed once.”

The words sank into my chest like stones in water. I reached for Jin’s hand under the table, fingers curling around hers. She blinked, glancing up at me, her eyes warm and loving.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I guess I did.”

Crone sipped her tea, watching me with quiet pride. “Then you’re already doing better than most.”

Her words stayed with me, echoing louder than the clatter of trays and the hum of voices around us.

I glanced at Jin again, taking in the subtle way her posture had relaxed. There was a calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.

“I couldn’t let her go,” I finished, my words barely above a whisper. "Hell, medics here said they'’d have put her down."

Crone studied me for a long moment, her sharp void eyes narrowing slightly. “The bond’s part of it,” she said carefully. “But it’s not all of it. You would’ve done this even without the bond—that’s who you are,” she repeated. “Though it is rare to accelerate so far in such a short time. You're basically getting the attachment and emotional bond you'd potentially form in a few months to years shoved into your head in under a week, from what I gather.”

Her words settled heavily in my chest, their weight both reassuring and overwhelming.

“Do you think it’ll last?” I asked, more to myself than to her.

Crone sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful. “The bond will,” she said simply. “It’s a piece of your soul wedged into hers and vice versa, quite hard to break something like that. Not that living an existence like that is easy, though. What you build from it is up to you—and her. But if anyone can make it work, it’s you. You managed to get here after all.”

I nodded, her words sinking into my mind like stones into still water. They hit every level on the way down, displacing the quiet doubts I hadn’t been ready to confront.

Crone didn’t press me after that. She simply watched, her presence calm but steady, like the slow ebb of a tide that knew it would return no matter how far it pulled away.

“What about your partners?” I asked, shifting the weight of the conversation away from myself. “How are things at home?”

Her expression softened, a rare warmth lighting her sharp features. “They’re well,” she said, her voice carrying a quiet fondness. “Busy, as always. Daran is overseeing a trade route negotiation in the west. Ryn’s still in the capital, working on a project they can’t tell me anything about—‘classified,’ of course.” She rolled her eyes lightly, and I chuckled.

“And the others?” I asked, leaning forward slightly, more curious than I expected to be.

“Aen and Lira have been fussing over me since I got back,” Crone said with a faint smile. “I think they were more worried about the injury than I was. But you know how they are—always keeping things running behind the scenes, even when they have to remind me to sit still every five minutes to fuss over me.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out,” I said, mirroring her smile. "Then again, you've got several centuries of life experience over me."

“It’s not without its challenges,” Crone admitted, her void eyes glinting with wry humor. “But it works, because we make it work. That’s the key, Raku—finding what works for you and putting in the effort to keep it steady.”

Her words sat with me for a while. I turned them over in my mind, the same way you’d turn a blade to check for flaws.

She made it sound so simple, but I knew better. Things like that didn’t "just work." They took work, constant work, and a willingness to have conversations that never really ended.

Jin shifted beside me, her shoulder bumping into mine. She didn’t look at me, too focused on nibbling at the edge of a piece of fruit. But the subtle press of her body against mine was deliberate. She knew I was thinking too hard again.

“You’ve got your hands full,” Crone said, her gaze flicking between us. “But you’ve always been good at balancing the impossible.”

I let out a huff that was halfway to a laugh. “I don’t know about that,” I muttered, tearing into a skewer. The meat was tough but hot, and that was enough for me.

“You will,” Crone said with a small smile. “Give yourself time, and don’t be afraid to ask for help. 'Centuries of experience' and all that.”

“Pretty sure you just like to flex on us mortals.”

“Of course I do,” Crone countered, eyes sharp with mischief. “What’s the point of being old if you can’t hold it over people?”

That actually got a laugh out of me. Jin looked up, her ears perking at the sound, and for a moment, her eyes lingered on me. She tilted her head, her expression curious but soft.

It was a simple look, but it held a weight I wasn’t ready to address just yet. I squeezed her hand once more.

The three of us sat in companionable quiet for a while after that. No pressure to fill the silence. No need to explain ourselves. Just quiet eating, and the slow, inevitable pace of time moving forward.

By the time I finished my plate, the ache in my muscles had dulled, replaced by the steady hum of contentment. Jin seemed more at ease now, her sharp eyes less guarded as she reached for another piece of fruit. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, curling once around her leg before settling.

I gathered the trays, glancing at Crone one last time.

“Thank you, Grandmother,” I said softly. “For the advice.”

“Anytime,” she replied, her void eyes warm but knowing. “Take care of her—and yourself. Especially after those drills today.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, my gaze flicking to Jin. “I’m working on it.”

Her words followed me as Jin and I left the mess hall. The cool air of the corridor washed over us, a welcome reprieve from the bustling noise of the room behind us. Jin stayed close, her hand slipping back into mine as we walked. I could feel the quiet press of her presence against mine, the way her fingers tapped softly against the back of my hand as if to remind me she was still there.

I glanced down at her, and she looked back, her eyes bright and unwavering.

“You know,” I muttered, half to myself, “I’m starting to think you’re better at this than I am.”

Her ears twitched, and her eyes flared briefly as she contentedly hummed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes as we kept walking. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

We passed the junction leading toward the training wing, the faint clang of weights and grunts of exertion echoing through the air. Jin briefly looked that way but didn’t linger. Her focus stayed on me.

The ache in my chest was dull but present. Not the pain of today's strain, but something heavier. I kept thinking about Crone’s words, turning them over and over like stones in my hands.

“You wanted to be the person you needed once.”

It wasn’t like it had never crossed my mind. I knew why I’d pulled Jin out of that basement. Knew why I’d brought her home and why I’d fought to keep her. But hearing it said out loud like that made it feel different. Like the thought was no longer just mine.

Her fingers squeezed mine softly, her gaze on me for just a second before she looked ahead again.

I squeezed back, matching her pace, step for step.

We reached the lift that would take us to the upper floors, where my quarters were. The metal door slid open with a soft hiss, and Jin stepped inside first, her tail curling lightly around my wrist as if to guide me in.

The door shut behind us with a soft clunk, and we were alone again.

The faint vibration of the lift moving up hummed beneath my feet.

“Crone’s right,” I said, glancing down at Jin.

Her ears twitched, and she glanced up at me.

“We’ll figure it out,” I murmured, leaning against the wall. “Whatever that looks like.”

Jin leaned into me, her head resting against my side, her eyes falling shut.

The hum of the lift continued, steady as a heartbeat.

The house was quiet. Almost too quiet. The kind of quiet that swallowed sounds whole, leaving only the faint creak of old wood and the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

It wasn’t like the squat where Vivi and I had been staying—the smells of damp and mildew replaced here with lavender polish and faint traces of cooked spices. Even in the dim light of the entryway, the place felt... lived in. Warm.

Alin was anything but quiet.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging me by the hem of my shirt, his grin wide and wolfish as he led me toward the living room. “Make yourself at home.”

“You always bring strangers home?” I asked, quirking a brow as he pulled me onto the couch.

“Only the interesting ones,” he replied, his voice low as he leaned in to kiss me.

The words would’ve made me roll my eyes if I wasn’t already distracted. His hands slid under my jacket, tugging it off my shoulders as his lips pressed against mine. He kissed like he didn’t care who saw—messy and hungry, his teeth grazing my lower lip as he pulled me closer.

His touch was warm, his breath hot against my skin as his hands slipped beneath my shirt. I didn’t stop him, letting his fingers trace the edges of my tattoos, his curiosity obvious in the way his touch lingered on the raised lines of the runes.

“Off,” he muttered, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

I smirked, letting him pull it over my head, his eyes widening slightly as the tattoos on my tits flared faintly in response to the brush of his fingers.

“These are incredible,” he said, his voice breaking into a gasp as I leaned in, my lips trailing down the side of his neck.

“They’re not important,” I murmured against his skin, silencing him with a kiss as my hands moved to the waistband of his pants.

We tumbled further into the couch, the cushions sinking beneath us as the heat between us grew, our movements quick and impatient. His shirt joined mine on the floor, his golden skin glowing faintly in the dim light as I pressed my hands to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath my palms.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered, his voice a mix of amusement and heat as he shifted beneath me.

I smirked, leaning down to kiss him again, my lips tracing the sharp line of his jaw as my hands slid lower. “You knew that before you convinced me to come over since you're home alone.”

He didn’t deny it, his breath hitching as I finally pulled his pants down, my nails scraping faintly against his thighs.

We didn’t stop. Not as his voice cracked into soft moans, not as my mouth found its way lower, lower, lower, not as his hands tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to make me hum against him.

“Raku,” he breathed, my name slipping from his lips like a sigh.

It was only when his body tensed, his voice breaking into a desperate groan as he finished on my tongue, that I heard it.

A step, somewhere behind me.

My body went rigid, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as the soft, deliberate creak of wood broke the thick haze of heat between us. We were supposed to be alone. Years of living on the streets of a city that hated my very existence teaches you these things.

Alin didn’t notice at first, his head tipped back against the cushions, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. But I was already pulling away, my eyes snapping toward the doorway as the faint sound of footsteps reached my ears.

Slow. Steady. Deadly.

And then I saw her.

She wasn’t the human I'd guessed at. Not even close.

Her frame stretched impossibly tall, her thin limbs angular and unnaturally long as she stepped into the room with a grace that felt too fluid, too precise. Her pale skin gleamed faintly in the dim light, its texture smooth and almost waxy, and the sharp points of her ears seemed to slice through the shadows just like they did through her gold and silver hair.

But it was her eyes that stopped me cold.

They were pitch black. Endless.

They mirrored mine.

For a moment, I thought I was staring into a warped reflection of myself, my own black eyes magnified and distorted into something grotesque. Hers were far too large for her face, catching the faint light like the glossy surface of obsidian. They didn’t blink, didn’t waver, just locked onto me with an intensity that made my stomach churn.

“Grandmother?!”, Alin’s voice cracked, the word bursting from him like a lifeline as he scrambled upright, yanking the couch blanket over himself in a frantic attempt to cover up.

Her gaze didn’t move, her attention fixed on me with a stillness that was almost predatory.

“You brought someone here,” she said, her voice low and far too smooth, each word dropping into the silence like stones into deep water.

Alin flinched, his face flushing crimson as he tried to stammer out a reply. “I—I didn’t think—”

“I don’t care what you thought,” she interrupted, her tone sharp and cutting. “Go to your room.”

“Grandmother, I—”

“Now.”

The word fell like a hammer, final and absolute.

Alin’s gaze darted to me, his expression a mix of guilt and panic, but he didn’t argue. He grabbed his jeans, clutching the blanket around his shoulders as he bolted toward the hallway, his footsteps quick and uneven.

That left me alone with her. If I had anything to put in a will I probably would've started writing.

Her gaze bore into me, those pitch-black eyes far too much like my own.

I swallowed hard, my hands clutching at the edge of the couch as my pulse thundered in my ears.

“You don’t seem the type to run,” she said, tilting her head in a way that made her long limbs seem even more alien. “That’s good. It saves time.”

---

The silence in the room stretched, thick and suffocating, as the voids of her eyes bore into mine. I felt like a moth pinned under glass, every instinct in me screaming to run, to move, to do something , but I couldn’t.

“You’re staring,” I said finally, my voice cracking just enough to betray me.

Her lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “You’re unusual,” she said, her voice smooth and unhurried, like she had all the time in the world to dissect me. “I don’t encounter many like you.”

I swallowed hard, my hands tightening around the edge of the couch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She tilted her head slightly, her long limbs shifting in a way that made my skin crawl. “You’ll find out. Sit.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

I rose slowly, my legs stiff as I moved to the small table near the window where she was already arranging a teapot and two cups. The delicate clink of porcelain against porcelain filled the silence, the faint scent of chamomile drifting into the air.

“You carry yourself well for someone so young,” she said as she poured, her hands steady and precise. “You’ve seen hardship.”

I snorted, the sound sharp and bitter as I crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s one way to put it.”

It wasn’t until her gaze slowly travelled down, then back up, that I realized exactly how I was sitting.

“Your shirt,” she said dryly, one pale brow arching ever so slightly. “Unless you think having your chest out will give you the upper hand in this conversation, I suggest you fix it.”

Heat rushed to my face as I scrambled to grab my discarded shirt from the couch. “Right. Yeah. Totally forgot about that.”

Her expression didn’t change, but the faintest shimmer of amusement crossed her inky eyes. “I assure you, modesty will make no difference here.”

I tugged the shirt over my head, my tattoos sparking faintly as the fabric brushed against them. “Noted,” I muttered, sinking into the chair across from her.

She slid a cup toward me, the tea’s faint steam curling between us. “Drink,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated but lifted the cup, the warmth seeping into my hands as I took a cautious sip. This is where I die.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “What’s your name?”

“Raku,” I said, my voice quieter now.

“Raku,” she repeated, her tone flat but thoughtful. “Interesting.”

I frowned. “What’s interesting about it?”

She didn’t answer immediately, instead setting her cup down with a deliberate slowness that made the silence feel unbearable. “It’s not your name that interests me,” she said finally. “It’s what you are.”

My breath hitched. “What I am?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest glint of something unreadable flashing in the dark. “You’re not human,” she said. “Not entirely.”

The words hit like a slap, my pulse roaring in my ears as my grip on the teacup tightened.

“Gargoyle,” she continued, “Devil. And human. A rare combination. You'll have to tell me about how that came about some day.”

I didn’t respond, my throat tightening as my chest ached with a hollow, familiar weight.

“And you carry magic,” she added, her gaze flicking briefly to the faint glow of my tattoos. “Not your own, I assume. Borrowed from your devil ancestor, perhaps?”

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to steady. “I didn’t ask for it. Can't even use it without the runes on my body.”

“No,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “But it’s there all the same.”

Her words hung between us, heavy and unrelenting, as I fought the urge to shrink under her gaze.

“What do you want from me?” I asked finally, my voice hoarse.

She leaned back slightly, her long fingers curling around her teacup. “I want you to come to Crimson Reverie,” she said simply. “Bring whoever's magic you reek of, too. You’ll find it worth your while.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Crimson Reverie? The merc company?”

She nodded once, her movements slow and deliberate. “We have... an interest in individuals with your unique talents.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said quickly, the words rushing out before I could stop them.

Her gaze sharpened, cutting through my protest like a blade. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “Gargoyle strength. Devil cunning. Human adaptability. You’re wasted on the streets.”

Her words stung more than I wanted to admit.

“What makes you think I’d even want to join?” I asked, my voice sharper now, more defensive.

Her lips curled faintly, the closest thing to a smile I’d seen yet. “Because you don’t have many other options,” she said simply. “And because I’m giving you one.”

The room felt unbearably small, her presence overwhelming as she leaned forward slightly, her dark eyes boring into mine. “Come to headquarters on Monday,” she said. “I’ll see to it you’re evaluated.”

My fingers trembled slightly against the teacup as her words sank in.

“And bring your friend,” she added, her voice softer now. “Vivi, is it? I imagine they’ll be just as... interesting.”

Can she see my thoughts?

I couldn’t help the faint flicker of a laugh that escaped me, bitter and humorless. “You really don’t give me a choice, do you?”

Her eyes glinted faintly in the dim light. “You always have a choice,” she said, her tone calm but unyielding. “But I suggest you make the right one.”

The door to my quarters slid shut with a soft hiss, sealing out the world beyond. The hum of distant footsteps and low conversations in the hallway faded to a dull murmur, leaving only the faint buzz of the overhead lights and the soft rustle of fabric as I shrugged out of my jacket.

I tossed it onto the chair without thinking. My body felt heavier than it had any right to be, a slow, dragging weight that settled deep in my bones. No injury, just that sharp, familiar ache of exhaustion that refused to leave.

Jin followed close behind, quiet as a shadow. Her tail brushed lightly against the back of my leg with every step, a constant presence I’d grown used to faster than I’d like to admit.

“We’ve got about thirty minutes before the debrief,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at her. My voice was rough, thick with fatigue. “Plenty of time to rest.”

Her ears twitched, her gaze steady on me. She tilted her head just slightly, watching me the way she always did — sharp, observant, like she was measuring something. And, of course, almost unnervingly adoring.

I sat on the cot with a slow, deliberate exhale, letting myself feel the weight of the day settle in for just a second. Muscles groaned in protest, tight from drills and sparring, but the ache was familiar. Almost welcome. Jin didn’t wait for an invitation. She moved with quiet certainty, slipping onto the cot beside me and curling into my side like she’d always belonged there.

Her warmth hit me instantly. Steady. Constant. Her tail looped loosely around my leg, her horns brushing lightly against my collarbone as she settled in.

I wrapped an arm around her, fingers tracing slow, aimless patterns on her back. Her skin was soft and warm under my touch, the faint thrum of her breathing a steady, grounding rhythm. She let out a quiet hum, the kind of sound that could have meant anything but felt a lot like contentment.

“Comfortable?” I murmured, leaning my head back against the wall.

She pressed closer in response, her hand sliding up to rest against my chest. Her fingers curled faintly into my shirt, like she was anchoring herself there. Her claws didn’t press in—not like they used to when she was tense. Just the soft, steady weight of her touch.

Her horns shifted against me as she adjusted her head, brushing against my jaw in a way that could've been an accident but wasn’t.

“Careful,” I muttered, smirking faintly. “Gonna end up goring me.”

Her response was a low, contented hum, her fingers curling a little tighter against my shirt. She pressed her face closer, her breath warm against my collarbone.

I let my eyes close for a moment, letting the fog of exhaustion seep into the edges of my mind. My body felt heavy in the way that only hard drills could bring. The ache in my arms and legs dulled to a distant throb, my awareness narrowing to the warmth of Jin against me and the steady weight of her presence.

My thoughts wandered, unmoored, and I let them.

Five days.

That’s all it had been. Five days since I’d pulled her from that basement. Five days since I’d looked at her and made a choice. Take her back or watch her die.

I glanced down at her, taking in the way she’d nestled herself against me. Her breathing had slowed, her body relaxed in a way that was becoming more and more common. No more sharp-edged movements. No more skittish glances at the door. Just this. Just quiet.

Five days, I thought again, my fingers drifting slowly along her back. I couldn’t tell if that thought was a comfort or something else entirely.

Crone’s words rang sharp in my mind.
“You're basically getting the attachment and emotional bond you'd potentially form in a few months to years shoved into your head in under a week.”

She wasn’t wrong. I knew she wasn’t wrong. But knowing it didn’t make it feel any less real. It didn’t make it easier to separate the bond from everything else I felt.

Would I have felt this way without it? Would I have fought this hard for her, wanted her this much, without it?

My fingers curled against her back, not enough for her to notice, but enough for me to run my knuckles along her spine.

The bond didn’t create something out of nothing, Crone had said. It only amplified what was already there.

But how much of this was me? And how much of it was that soul-bond threading its way into the cracks in my heart, filling them up like cement?

Jin stirred, her horns brushing against my jaw again, sharper this time. I felt her shift, her body pressing more firmly against mine. Her hand tightened its grip on my chest, her claws pressing just slightly into the fabric. Her eyes stayed closed, but her face tilted up toward mine, her breath warm against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, letting my free hand move from her back to her cheek. My thumb brushed just under her eye, tracing the smooth line of her face. Her breathing hitched for a second, then settled back into its slow, steady rhythm.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered softly. “You can rest.”

Her ears twitched, her eyes still closed, and she let out a slow breath. Her tail curled tighter around my leg, anchoring me in place.

Later, I thought. I’ll figure it out later.

---

The chime of my datapad cut through the quiet, sharp and jarring. My eyes snapped open, heart thudding hard in my chest as my mind scrambled to catch up.

Jin didn’t move much. She grumbled low, the sound barely a growl, her claws poking my chest. Her face stayed buried against me like she could block the sound out by sheer force of will.

I reached over, fumbling for the datapad on the shelf beside the cot. The glow of the screen lit up the dim room, throwing sharp lines of light over the walls.

“Time’s up,” I muttered, blinking away the fog of sleep as I tapped the alert away.

Jin shifted, her body curling tighter against me, her tail winding more firmly around my leg.

“Jin,” I said softly, brushing my hand through her hair. “We have to get up.”

Her response was a low, muffled hum—half complaint, half refusal.

“Come on,” I said, rubbing a hand down her back. “We’ll get through the debrief, and then we can come back here or even go home.”

Her eyes flicked open, her gaze sharp despite the haze of sleep still clinging to her. She tilted her head up, looking at me like I’d just said something offensive.

Her ears twitched once, twice, then she moved.

Her tail loosened just enough to give her space, and before I could react, her weight shifted. Her hands pressed against my chest, claws poking my tits through the thin shirt, her body rising just enough to look me in the eye. Her pupils were blown wide, the edges of her pink irises barely visible.

Her hands slid up my chest towards my neck. I felt her claws graze the edge of my collarbone as she leaned in.

“Jin,” I warned, but my voice didn’t have much bite to it.

Her lips brushed against mine—light at first, then firm. I felt her claws retract as her hands moved to cup my face, her fingers threading into my hair. It wasn’t the kind of kiss meant to be playful or quick. It was slower, more focused.

I tilted into it for a moment—just a moment. My hands moved, one settling on her back, the other curling at her waist. She hummed softly against my lips, her tail curling tighter around my leg.

Troublemaker.

I pulled back, resting my forehead against hers. She huffed, her gaze locked onto mine, her breath warm and steady.

“Later,” I muttered, brushing a thumb along the edge of her jaw.

Her eyes narrowed at me, her hands pressing just a bit harder. Her fingers curled, tugging me forward just enough to make her point clear.

“Later,” I repeated, nudging her gently.

Her tail flicked in sharp defiance, but after a second, she relented, dropping her forehead against my shoulder with a small, frustrated growl.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, my lips lingering.

“Come on,” I murmured, tugging lightly at her hand. “We’ve gotta move.”

Her tail thumped the mattress in frustration, like she was telling me this wasn’t over.

Yeah, I got the message.

The quiet hum of the room settled in again, warm and soft like the final flickers of a hearth before it burned down to embers. The glow from my datapad still lingered on the walls, but I let it fade, dimming the room to that soft, comfortable low light. Jin hadn’t moved much after her little stunt, still draped over me with her head tucked against my shoulder.

Her horns pressed lightly into my collarbone, just enough to be noticeable but not uncomfortable. She shifted, her hands still firm on my chest, and I could feel her body press closer like she was trying to melt into me, keeping me down at any cost. Her tail’s slow curl around my leg was deliberate, almost possessive, as it looped and held firm like a serpent claiming its branch.

“Come on, love,” I muttered again, rubbing slow circles into her back. My fingers followed the gentle curve of her spine, feeling every shift of muscle beneath the warmth of her skin. “I’m serious. If we don’t move, Reaper’s gonna have both our heads.”

Her response was a long, slow exhale that tickled my neck. Her breath was hot, and for just a second, her lips brushed against the side of my throat. Not a kiss—just a reminder.

I blinked slowly, my breath hitching in my chest. Alright. She’s playing dirty now.

“Don’t,” I warned quietly, but I didn’t pull away.

Her lips moved again, this time more deliberate. A slow, trailing press of warmth along my neck, right under my jaw. My fingers paused against her back, and I felt her shift against me, her claws dragging gently down my chest. Not enough to hurt—just enough to be felt.

“Jin,” I said, firmer this time, tilting my head just enough to make space between us. “Not now.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, sharp and half-lidded. The way she watched me was something else—like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. There was no hesitation in that gaze, no uncertainty. She knew exactly what she was doing, what she wanted.

Her lips parted, her breathing slow and measured as she dragged her gaze over me. Her hands rested just below my ribs, squeezing me like she was testing her grip. Her eyes were steady, fixed on mine with that quiet intensity I couldn't get enough of.

Her gaze dropped to my mouth.

I felt the tension shift. Like the air between us had gone denser, heavier. Her breathing wasn’t the slow, sleepy kind from earlier—it was sharper now, focused.

My heart thudded once, a little too loud in the quiet.

“You remember what I said,” I muttered, leaning in close enough that our foreheads nearly touched again. “Later.”

Her eyes narrowed at me, and I could see the flicker of defiance light up in her gaze. Her tail tightened on my leg, and her fingers pressed just a little harder against my chest. Not hard enough to hurt. Not quite.

“Later,” I repeated, lifting one hand to cup her cheek. My thumb brushed against her cheekbone, slow and deliberate, and I let my palm settle there for just a second. “We’ve already pushed it back once, remember?”

Her pupils dilated just a little more, the ring of pink barely visible around the dark expanse of them. Her ears flicked back, and her lips pressed into a faint, stubborn line.

But she didn’t push. Not this time.

Instead, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine—slow and firm. Not teasing. Not playful. She kissed me with the kind of patience that could wear someone down, her fingers sliding from my chest to the back of my neck, pulling me in just a little closer.

I let her have it. If that's what it takes to get her to move.

My hands settled on her hips, fingers pressing into the soft, warm curve of them. I kissed her back with just enough pressure to let her know I wasn’t retreating. Her hum was a low, pleased sound, vibrating faintly against my lips. She tasted like warmth and something faintly sweet—leftover fruit from the mess, maybe.

Her hands tugged at the back of my neck again, tilting my head just enough for her to deepen the kiss. My pulse kicked up a notch, warmth spreading through me faster than it should have. I squeezed her hip once, just to feel the way she pressed against me in response.

Her claws came out and dragged slowly along the nape of my neck, her fingers threading into my hair with a slow, deliberate pull. I felt every movement, every shift of her body against mine, the weight of her so certain in its place.

Her tail flicked once, curling tighter, and I knew I should stop it.

Just a little longer, I told myself, leaning into the kiss, letting her pull me in just a little more. My fingers tightened on her hips, not pulling her closer but not stopping her either. She felt it. I knew she did. Her breathing hitched, and she shifted forward, her thighs bracketing one of mine as her hips pressed down with more weight.

“Careful,” I muttered against her mouth, the words barely there, more breath than sound.

Her eyes opened just barely, and I caught the glint of challenge in them. Her claws flexed faintly against my neck, and her breath came out hot against my mouth.

We're gonna have a discussion about consent and time and place later. And maybe I need to grow a bit of a backbone when it comes to her.

“Jin,” I said softly, sliding one hand from her hip to her lower back. I felt the way she leaned into it, the soft press of her body against mine, and for a second, I considered just letting her win.

But I didn’t.

I leaned my forehead against hers, letting my breath steady. “Later,” I whispered, my voice quieter this time but no less firm. “We’ll have time.”

She didn’t pull away. Not at first. Her eyes stayed on mine, her breath steady but deep, and I knew she was weighing it. Testing me.

Her claws eased, slowly, and her hands slipped from the back of my neck to rest on my shoulders. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer before she finally exhaled. Her tail uncurled from my leg, a slow, deliberate movement that felt like a warning.

This isn’t over.

I let out a soft breath, fingers brushing one last slow line down her back before I pulled away.

“Come on,” I said quietly, shifting my weight so she had to move off me. “We’ve gotta move. Reaper’s patience is thinner than yours, and I’m not getting chewed out again today.”

She stayed close as I stood, her hands trailing down my arms before finally letting me go. Her gaze stayed on me the entire time as I reached for my jacket, and I could feel the weight of it without even looking.

I pulled the jacket on, shaking out the fabric as it settled on my shoulders. Jin was already up, adjusting her shirt and smoothing down her hair with quick, sharp motions. Her tail swayed low and slow behind her, her eyes flicking toward me every few seconds.

I caught her gaze, tilting my head toward the door. “Ready?”

The succubus stepped forward, close enough that her arm brushed against mine. Her tail wrapped lightly around my wrist, a quick, fleeting touch before it pulled away.

We stepped into the hall, the cool air hitting me hard after the warmth of the quarters. The shift in temperature made the ache in my muscles sharper, more present, but it also woke me up a little more.

Jin stayed close, her steps quiet but in sync with mine. Her gaze flicked to the side, catching the faint movement of someone walking ahead of us. I followed her gaze to spot Vivi's familiar dyed locs, strolling casually with their hands in their pockets like they hadn’t a care in the world.

They glanced back, spotting us with a grin that split their face like they’d just won a bet.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” they called, turning to walk backward. Their grin only grew wider as their eyes flicked from me to Jin, their brow raising in quiet implication. “Cuddle session over already?”

“Bite me,” I muttered, shaking my head as I kept walking.

“Don’t tempt me,” they shot back, their grin sharp as ever.

I didn’t bother responding, just letting the sound of their laughter echo down the hall as the three of us made our way toward the debrief.

Later, I thought again. We’ll have time later.

But that heat in my chest wasn’t so easy to put out.

The corridor leading to the debrief room stretched longer than usual, the soft hum of ventilation underscoring the faint scrape of boots against polished floors. Jin walked close at my side, her tail swaying lightly with each step. On my other side, Viper strolled with their usual swagger, hands tucked into their jacket pockets, their grin sharp enough to cut glass.

“You okay?” I asked Jin quietly, my voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry.

Her sharp, pink gaze flicked up to meet mine, her expression calm but faintly curious. She tilted her head slightly, her tail brushing my calf. She was alright. Since when can I read that so well?

I nodded, the tightness in my chest easing slightly. “Good.”

Ahead, the faint murmur of voices seeped through the barely cracked door to the debrief room. Breaker’s booming laugh rose above the chatter, followed by Watcher’s low, measured tone.

Viper leaned toward me, their grin widening. “Place your bets now—how long until Reaper calls you out?”

“Five seconds,” I muttered, pushing open the door.

The noise inside paused momentarily as heads turned toward us. Jin stayed close to my side, her sharp gaze sweeping the room with her usual quiet intensity.

“Look who finally made it,” Viper drawled, elbowing me as they sauntered inside. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I dropped into an empty chair near the door. Jin slid into the seat beside me, her tail wrapping neatly around her legs as she settled in.

“Enough,” Reaper’s voice cut through the room like a blade. The squad stilled immediately, his presence commanding silence without effort.

The grizzled veteran’s gaze swept the room before landing squarely on me and Viper. “You two were late this morning. Again.”

The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his tone.

Reaper’s sharp blue eyes didn’t waver as he continued. “I don’t care what you were doing. I care that you were late. You’re veterans. You know better.”

“Understood,” I said, my voice clipped.

Viper leaned back in their chair, their smirk lingering but muted under Reaper’s scrutiny.

The squad held their collective breath as Reaper’s gaze lingered. “You both performed well enough during drills, but ‘well enough’ isn’t what I expect. And let’s talk about what ‘well enough’ means. Knocking Paul out cold—Tats, do you think command won’t hear about that?”

I stiffened slightly, but I met his gaze head-on. “He was out of line, sir.”

Reaper’s jaw tightened. “I don’t disagree. But his parents have deep pockets and longer tempers than you might think. If they push this, it won’t be on Paul—it’ll be on us.”

The reminder hung heavy in the air.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Reaper said firmly, his gaze holding mine for a beat longer.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, my tone steady.

The tension eased slightly as Reaper shifted his attention to the rest of the squad, beginning the debrief in earnest. He ran through the day’s drills with precision, highlighting strengths and weaknesses with the blunt efficiency we’d come to expect.

As Reaper spoke, I found my attention drifting despite myself. The steady cadence of his voice became a low hum in the background, drowned out by the thoughts swirling in my mind.

The soul-bond.

Crone’s words lingered like a persistent echo, a sharp counterpoint to the warmth of Jin’s presence beside me. Five days. It had been only five days since I found her in that basement—terrified, feral, and half-starved. Now, she sat beside me, calm and steady, her tail curling idly around her chair leg as if she’d always belonged here.

But was it real? Or was the bond twisting my emotions into something stronger, faster than they should be?

I glanced at Jin. Her sharp gaze flicked to meet mine briefly, her eyes soft but unguarded. There was no calculation in her look, no trace of manipulation—just quiet trust and an unwavering focus that seemed to center itself on me.

I thought about the way she’d clung to me earlier, her warmth wrapping around me like a cocoon. The bond might amplify emotions, but it couldn’t create them out of thin air. It couldn’t fabricate the way her presence settled me or the way she sought me out instinctively.

But it still left questions unanswered.

“...understood?” Reaper’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and demanding attention.

A chorus of affirmations echoed around the room, pulling me back to the present.

“Good,” Reaper said, leaning back slightly in his chair. His gaze swept across the squad one final time, lingering briefly on me and Viper before he nodded. “You’re dismissed. Be ready for the next one.”

Chairs scraped against the floor as the squad began to disperse. Breaker clapped me on the shoulder as he passed, his heavy hand briefly grounding.

“Good punch earlier,” he rumbled with a grin. “Wish I’d seen Paul’s face when he hit the mat.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, earning a low chuckle from him before he moved on.

Vivi was already on their feet, stretching dramatically. “Well, that was fun,” they said, their grin returning full force as they leaned toward me. “So, Tats, was cuddle time worth all the heat?”

I shot them a glare, but the faint smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. “You never let up, do you?”

“Not a chance,” they said with mock solemnity, falling into step beside me as we exited the debrief room.

Jin trailed close behind, her presence a quiet reassurance as my best friend’s relentless teasing filled the air between us.

The corridor buzzed with low chatter as squad members dispersed in different directions, their voices bouncing softly off the sterile walls. Vivi nudged my shoulder as we walked, their smirk fixed firmly in place.

“Seriously though,” they said, their tone light but edged with curiosity. “You good? You’ve been quiet today—even for you.”

I glanced at them, catching the faint glimmer of concern beneath their usual bravado. “I’m fine,” I said, though my voice was quieter than I intended.

The half-devil raised an eyebrow. “Fine like ‘nothing to see here,’ or fine like ‘don’t ask because I’ll explode’?”

“Fine like ‘complicated,’” I muttered, avoiding their gaze.

Their smirk softened slightly. “Complicated things involving certain pink-eyed, horned individuals?”

I snorted despite myself. “No comment.”

“That’s not a no,” they said, their grin returning full force. “I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

“Get a hobby, Vi,” I muttered as we reached the end of the corridor.

“I have one,” they shot back. “It’s called annoying you, and I’m damn good at it.”

Jin’s tail swayed and brushed me as she stepped closer, her quiet presence a grounding counterpoint to their relentless teasing. I caught her gaze briefly, the calm steadiness there settling something in my chest.

The walk to the garage was quiet but not entirely silent. The hum of overhead lights mixed with the faint echoes of squad members’ laughter and chatter in the distance. Jin stayed close at my side, her tail occasionally brushing against my leg, while Viper strolled a step ahead, hands in their pockets and a spring in their step.

When we reached my car, Vivi turned with an exaggerated flourish, holding out their hand. “Keys, your majesty.”

I rolled my eyes, tossing them the fob. “Try not to kill us.”

“No promises,” they quipped, unlocking the car with a theatrical press of the button.

I moved to open the back door for Jin, but she caught my wrist, her pink eyes meeting mine with quiet insistence.

“You want me to sit with you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Her grip tightened briefly—a silent confirmation.

I sighed, my mouth twitching into a smile as I climbed into the back seat with her. Vivi raised an eyebrow as they slid into the driver’s seat. “This is new,” they said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Drive,” I muttered, leaning back as Jin curled against me. Her head rested on my shoulder, and her tail looped loosely around my leg.

“Alright, alright,” they said, fiddling with the music. “But I’m putting on whatever I want.”

The car hummed to life, and the playlist that filled the cabin was predictably chaotic—aggressive electric beats that clashed hilariously with the quiet atmosphere. I closed my eyes, letting Jin’s warmth and the rhythmic motion of the car lull me into a rare moment of calm.

The drive was quiet, save for the music thumping through the speakers and the occasional sound of tires on asphalt. Vivi, to their credit, kept the quips to a minimum, content to bob their head along to the beat as they maneuvered through the dimly lit streets.

Jin shifted beside me, her head pressing more firmly against my shoulder. Her hand slid into mine, her fingers fitting around my palm in a gesture so casual and instinctive it made my chest tighten. I gave her hand a light squeeze and turned to give her head a quick kiss.

Our semi-willing driver glanced at us in the rearview mirror, their smirk reappearing as they caught sight of Jin nestled against me. “Adorable,” they muttered, barely audible over the music.

“Eyes on the road,” I said, my tone half-serious.

They threw up a lazy salute that'd have Reaper fuming, their grin widening. “Yes, boss.”

Jin stirred slightly at my side. Her breath was warm against my neck, and for a moment, the world outside the car felt distant—just the three of us cocooned in the gentle hum of the vehicle and the glow of streetlights.

And, of course, Vivi's fucking music.

---

The car pulled to a stop outside my apartment building, the hum of the engine fading as Viper cut the ignition. They twisted around in their seat, holding out the keys with an exaggerated flourish. “Your chariot has arrived, sir. That’ll be one coffee and a thank you.”

I took the keys with a roll of my eyes. “Thank you, Vivs. Coffee’s not happening tonight, I'm too tired to stay up.”

“Figures,” they said with mock disappointment, opening their door. “You two lovebirds head in. I’ll grab my car and be out of your hair.”

Jin stepped out first, her tail swaying lightly as she took in the quiet street. I followed, glancing back as Viper fished their own keys out of their pocket. They gave me a lazy wave before strolling toward their car, parked a few spots down.

The faint sound of their fob clicking echoed in the still night, but nothing happened. They pressed the button again. Still nothing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Vivi muttered, their voice carrying just enough for me to hear.

I crossed my arms, leaning against my car as I watched them try the button a third time. Their frustration was palpable as they muttered curses under their breath, finally turning back to me with a defeated look.

“It’s dead,” they said flatly. “Just checked this thing last week, and now it decides to give up?”

I smirked. “Looks like you’re stuck.”

Viper groaned, running a hand through their hair. “I’ll call a tow.”

“It’s late,” I said, pushing off the car. “Good luck getting anyone to come out here right now. Especially for your high-tech shit.”

They hesitated, their shoulders slumping as they glanced at the darkened street. “Fine. Guess I’m crashing on your couch.”

“Wouldn’t dream of kicking you out,” I replied dryly, motioning toward the building. “Come on. I’ve got a spare blanket with your name on it. And that coffee I owe you.”

The door clicked shut behind us, shutting out the outside world. The familiar warmth of the apartment wrapped around me like an old blanket—soft lighting, mismatched furniture, and all of my carefully raised plants. Jin stepped in quietly, her gaze sweeping the room as her tail gave a slow, lazy swish. She was just as happy to be home as I was.

Vivi didn’t hesitate, striding past us with the ease of someone who’d been here a thousand times. They tossed their bag onto the armchair and stretched dramatically. “Ah, home sweet Rak’s home,” they declared, flopping onto the couch with practiced flair. “Still cozy as hell. I’m telling you, you should charge for this kind of vibe. People would pay.”

I raised an eyebrow, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Yeah, and I’d never see the end of you freeloading.”

“Harsh, Rak',” Viper said, clutching their chest like I’d shot them. “And here I thought we were family.”

I snorted, shaking my head as I headed toward the hallway closet. “You want family treatment? Here.” I grabbed a blanket, tossing it over my shoulder before turning back toward the living room.

I walked over, shaking the blanket loose and draping it onto Viper with exaggerated care. “There. You’re officially part of the décor.”

They grinned, tucking the blanket around them like it was some grand luxury. “I’m a work of art. Thanks for noticing.”

“You are, but don't tell anyone I just agreed with you. Coffee’s in the kitchen,” I said, already heading toward the hallway. “Knock yourself out.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Viper said, springing up from the couch and heading toward the familiar cabinets. “You still have that weird caramel creamer?”

“Top shelf in the left cabinet, as always,” I called back, glancing at Jin as she padded closer. “Ready for bed?”

She tilted her head slightly, her ears flicking forward. The relaxed set of her shoulders was answer enough.

“Good,” I murmured, brushing my hand briefly over hers before stepping into the hallway. “Because I’m about ready to pass out.”

---

The soft glow of the bathroom light spilled over the tiled walls, warm and inviting. I grabbed a fresh towel from the rack, draping it over the counter before turning to Jin. She stood just inside the doorway, her gaze flicking to the sink and then to me, her tail swaying in a slow, deliberate arc.

“You know the drill,” I said, reaching for her toothbrush and squeezing a line of toothpaste onto it. “Come here.”

She stepped forward cautiously, her eyes narrowing at the toothbrush like it had personally offended her. Her claws were out, faintly glinting in the light as her fingers brushed against the counter.

I reached out, covering her hand lightly with mine. “Claws,” I said gently, meeting her gaze. “Retract them. It’ll be easier.”

Her ears twitched, and for a moment, she hesitated. But then her claws slid back, leaving her fingers smooth and unthreatening. She picked up the toothbrush, holding it awkwardly between her thumb and forefinger.

“Good,” I said with a small nod. “Now, give it a try.”

Her first attempt was hesitant, the motions stiff and uneven. She grimaced immediately, her nose wrinkling as the minty taste hit her tongue. Her tail gave an annoyed flick, and she lowered the toothbrush with a huff, glaring at me like I’d suggested something absurd.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, leaning back against the wall. “You’ve dealt with worse.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her ears flattened slightly, and she turned the toothbrush over in her hand like she was considering throwing it.

One step at a time, I suppose.

“Alright,” I said, holding out my hand. “Let me help.”

She hesitated again, her sharp gaze flicking to mine before she finally handed over the toothbrush. I stepped closer, tilting her chin up gently as I started brushing her teeth with slow, careful motions. Her tail curled around my leg, the subtle pressure grounding as her sharp eyes locked onto mine.

“See? Not so bad,” I murmured, the corners of my mouth twitching into a small smile at her indignant look.

She huffed softly, her claws flexing slightly against the counter but never quite extending. Progress. Her tail gave another flick, less agitated now, as I finished brushing.

“There,” I said, rinsing the brush and setting it back down. “Easy, right?”

She continued looking at me blankly, unimpressed as ever.

“You’re welcome,” I said dryly, turning to grab my own toothbrush. The routine was quick and familiar, the minty tang of the toothpaste almost comforting after the long day. By the time I finished, Jin had shifted closer, her presence warm and steady at my side.

“Ready for bed?” I repeated my earlier question, meeting the tired succubus' eyes.

She tilted her head slightly, her tail brushing against my leg in a quiet affirmation. Her hand grazed mine as she sought my touch.

We stepped out of the bathroom together, the warm light giving way to the softer glow of the living room. Vivi was sprawled on the couch, their coffee mug resting precariously on the edge of the table. They glanced up as we passed, raising a hand in a lazy wave.

“Sweet dreams, lovebirds,” they called, their voice as tired as my thoughts.

“Don’t stay up too late,” I replied, my tone dry as Jin and I headed toward the bedroom. Her tail brushed against my leg again, her steady presence anchoring me as we left the day behind.

---

The bed creaked softly under our combined weight as I settled into it, Jin following close behind. She didn’t wait for an invitation, curling against my side like she belonged there, her warmth a steady contrast to the coolness of the room. Her tail looped loosely around my leg, brushing against me in a gentle, grounding rhythm. Like several times before at this point, I wondered when I'd gotten so used to the comfort of her touch.

I let out a deep sigh, the tension of the day ebbing away with each breath. My fingers idly trailed along her back, tracing small patterns over the soft fabric of her shirt. She hummed softly in response, nuzzling closer until her horns brushed against my jaw.

Her hand slid lightly over my chest, her claws barely grazing the runes etched into my skin as she shifted closer. There was no mistaking the deliberate nature of her movements—the way her lips brushed against my neck, her warm breath sending faint shivers down my spine. Her tail tightened slightly around my leg, and I could feel the anticipation radiating from her in waves.

“Jin,” I murmured, catching her hand in mine as she started to explore more boldly. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, wide and questioning, though there was a flicker of playful mischief in their depths.

Her tail twitched, brushing against me again, but I kept my hold gentle, firm. “We need to talk,” I said softly. Especially after earlier today, this talk really needed to happen. For both of us.

She tilted her head slightly, her ears perking, but the slight crease of her brow showed she knew I wasn’t simply teasing her. Her claws poked me as she flexed and then retracted them, letting a hand rest on my sternum.

I cupped her cheek with my free hand, guiding her gaze to mine. “Earlier today,” I began, keeping my voice steady but gentle, “when I told you ‘later,’ you didn’t stop pushing. And I know it’s hard to stop when you’re feeling this... when you want something so badly. But when I set a boundary, Jin, I need you to listen. Do you understand?”

Her gaze searched mine, her tail curling and uncurling as her claws tapped lightly against my skin. Slowly, she nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. Her fingers brushed over the back of my hand, her touch electric.

“I know it’s not easy,” I continued, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “Especially when everything feels so... overwhelming. But this is about trust. I trust you completely, and I need you to trust me when I say no, or later, or not now. Because that trust—it’s the foundation of everything between us. Without it, we have nothing.”

Her ears drooped slightly, and she let out a soft, apologetic hum, pressing her forehead lightly against mine. Her body language shifted, her recently growing confidence nowhere to be seen.

“And I’m not perfect at this either,” I admitted easily. “I know I’m not great at enforcing my own boundaries sometimes. Especially with you. But that’s something I’m working on. And I need you to meet me halfway.”

There was a sincerity in her eyes that eased the knot of tension I hadn’t realized was sitting in my chest when she finally nodded.

“Good,” I murmured, my smile softening. “Because I trust you, Jin. And now that we've established that...” I leaned back slightly, letting my hand trail from her cheek to her waist. “Now you can indulge.”

Her ears perked up instantly, the hint of playful mischief returning to her expression. Her hands slid up to my shoulders, her grip steady as she leaned in. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was anything but hesitant—soft at first, then deepening with a growing intensity that sent warmth spiraling through me.

I kissed her back, my hand finding the curve of her waist and pulling her closer. Her tail coiled more securely around my leg, her body fitting against mine like it was where she’d always belonged. And maybe, it was. Her fingers slipped into my hair, tugging lightly as the kiss deepened, her breath hot against my lips.

Her hips shifted against mine, the motion slow and teasing, and I couldn’t hold back the faint groan that escaped me. She smiled against my mouth, her sharp eyes glinting with satisfaction as her hands trailed over my chest, brushing over the lines of my runes and making them flare pink beneath my shirt.

Her weight pressed me into the mattress as she adjusted her position, straddling my thigh and moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that left me breathless. My free hand slid up her back, finding the base of her neck and brushing against the curve of her horns.

The thought flickered at the edge of my awareness: Was this her succubus nature— or even the soul-bond between us—amplifying my reactions, driving me to respond with more fervor than I’d normally feel? But as her lips moved against mine, her touch steady and reverent, the thought faded. Did it truly matter? Whatever the bond’s influence might have been, it didn’t matter. The emotions were mine, raw and unfiltered, and they felt undeniably real.

My fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more fevered. Her hum of approval vibrated against my lips, her claws grazing lightly against my chest before trailing lower, resting against my ribs. The faint scrape of her nails was enough to send a shiver through me, my own hands finding her waist and gripping firmly.

Her hips pressed harder against mine, the thin barrier of our clothes doing nothing to dull the heat that built between us. My breath hitched as her tail coiled tighter, her body moving with a rhythm that left my thoughts spinning.

But even as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me, I felt the edge of exhaustion pulling at my awareness. The day’s chaos—the drills, the debrief, the weight of Crone’s words—had taken their toll, and I knew I couldn’t keep up with her energy tonight.

I shifted slightly, catching her hands and pulling back just enough to break the kiss. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, wide and questioning, her lips parted as she caught her breath.

“Jin,” I murmured, my voice strained as I became aware of just how tired I was. “I need to slow down.”

She stilled, her tail loosening its grip on my leg as her hands rested lightly on my chest. Her expression softened, and she nodded, her body relaxing against mine as she leaned her forehead against my shoulder.

I smiled faintly, brushing a hand through her hair. “Thank you,” I said softly, catching my breath, “For listening.”

Her claws poked me once and then retracted, her grip on my shirt gentle now as she shifted to settle beside me, head on my chest and tail draped over my legs, as per usual.

I pulled the blanket over us, letting my arms curl around her as the tension in my body melted into something softer. Her warmth was immediate and grounding, her steady breathing lulling me closer to sleep.

“Goodnight, love,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Her only response was a content hum, her arms tightening around me as she nestled closer.

I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to claim me and end this day.

Sleep remained an elusive stranger.

I stared at the ceiling, watching the city lights dance through the small gap between the heavy curtains in shifting patterns. My thoughts refused to settle, Crone’s pointed questions still gnawing at the edges of my mind. Too many unknowns. Too many doubts.

Moving carefully, I slipped from beneath the blanket, pausing when Jin stirred. Her tail twitched but didn’t release its hold entirely. I eased it aside with a gentle touch, a loving smile on my face at the soft sigh she let out. Grabbing a sweater, I padded quietly into the living room.

The air was cooler here, tinged with the scent of smoke drifting through the partially open balcony door. The city’s pulse felt muted tonight, distant and hazy. I hesitated before stepping closer to the doorway, wondering if company was really what I needed right now.

“Can’t sleep either?” Vivi’s voice greeted me, low and rough around the edges. The decision was made for me.

I pushed the balcony door open further to find them sprawled on the floor, a thick blanket draped over their shoulders. A faint ember glowed at the end of the joint in their hand, the smoke curling upward like a ghost.

My best friend’s gaze flicked up to meet mine, their expression amused but tired. “Figured you’d be out cold after today. Hell of a day, wasn’t it?”

I shrugged, stepping onto the balcony and leaning against the railing. “You’d think so. Brain’s not on the same page.”

They grinned, holding the joint out toward me. “Want to shut it up for a while?”

I snorted but accepted, sinking down beside them. The blanket shifted as they draped part of it over me before pulling me against them, and I felt a flash of gratitude for the small gesture.

“Can’t have you freezing your ass off out here,” Vivi teased, their grin softening into something genuine.

The night air was biting, but the blanket and their presence made it comfortable. I took a slow drag, the earthy taste filling my lungs before I exhaled. The tension in my shoulders began to ease, a small reprieve from the weight of my thoughts. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn't weed.

“Not bad,” I murmured, passing it back.

“Custom blend,” they said, a note of pride in their tone. “One of the perks of being stuck here. Plenty of sources if you know where to look. Especially when it’s none of that human-grown shit.”

I chuckled, leaning my head back against the wall. “So, what’s keeping you up?”

Viv took a slow drag, their gaze distant as they exhaled. “Same as you, probably. Too much crap in my head. Not enough room to sort it out.”

Their words settled between us for a bit, the quiet a familiar comfort.

“So?” I asked, my voice softer now. “What kind of crap are we talking about?”

They flashed their signature smirk, their eyes flicking toward the skyline. “Oh, you know. Life, the universe, everything. Also wondering how long my car’s going to keep hating me.”

I laughed, a low sound that felt almost foreign in the quiet night. “You can crash here as long as you want. Not like the couch hasn’t seen you before.”

“True,” they admitted, the smirk giving way to something softer. “Though it’s been a while since I needed it. Your place used to be my safe spot back when...” They trailed off, their gaze dipping.

“Back when everything just started sucking a little less?” I offered, "When we finally got off the streets for good?"

They nodded, memories playing in both our heads. The city sounds below filled the silence, distant but grounding.

“Better than the orphanage though, eh?” I asked to break the tension.

Vivi snorted, the sound tinged with bitterness. “How could I forget? That place was hell. If I never see another bowl of watery gruel, it’ll be too soon.”

I chuckled, though the sound was edged with old pain. “True. But we found each other there. That made it bearable.”

They turned toward me, their expression unusually soft. “You were the only reason I didn’t lose my mind in there, you know.”

The admission caught me off guard, and I felt a faint warmth rise to my face. “Could say the same about you. Don’t think I’d have made it without you watching my back. Especially the fucking lab afterwards.”

Their smirk returned. “Damn right you wouldn’t have. Someone had to keep your stubborn ass alive.”

“Sure,” I said dryly, though the smile tugging at my lips betrayed my amusement. “Because you definitely didn’t get me into half the trouble I was in.”

“Details,” they said, waving a hand as they took another hit.

The quiet settled again, this time more comfortable. The memories of those rough years still lingered, but they felt lighter now than they did when I was alone.

Shared burdens and such...

“So,” Vivi said eventually, their tone shifting to something lighter, though the curiosity in their eyes was unmistakable, “how’s things with your new roommate?”

I hesitated, my fingers idly picking at the edge of the blanket. “Complicated.”

They raised an eyebrow, suppressing a barely noticeable smile curling at the edges of their lips. “Complicated, huh? Isn’t that just not-quite-gargoyle-speak for ‘I’m head over heels but too much of a chicken to admit it’?”

I shot them a sharp look, though I couldn’t muster much heat behind it. “It’s not that simple.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” they said, leaning back against the wall with exaggerated nonchalance. “But you’re not exactly subtle. The way you look at her? Practically screams ‘tragic romance.’”

I sighed, resting my head back against the cool metal of the railing. “It’s more than that, Viv. There’s this... connection. A soul-bond. Crone confirmed your suspicion.”

That caught their attention. Their smirk faded, replaced by something more thoughtful. “Soul-bond? Damn, so I really was right when you called me yesterday.”

“It’s real,” I said, my voice quieter now. “And it’s... intense. Amplifies everything—every feeling, every instinct. Sometimes, I can’t even tell what’s me and what’s the bond.”

Viper whistled low, passing the joint back to me. “That sounds like a hell of a thing to carry around.”

“It is,” I admitted, taking a slow drag. The smoke settled in my lungs like a balm, easing the tightness in my chest. “But it’s not just the bond. Even without it... I’d still want to protect her. To be with her. I think, anyway. Hard to tell where that thought’s coming from, really.”

They hummed softly, their gaze drifting back to the city. “You’ve always had a thing for fixing broken things, Rak’. Maybe that’s part of it.”

“Maybe,” I said, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. “But it’s not just about fixing her. Not how it should work for people, anyway. She’s... I can’t imagine not having her around. Again, don't know how I'd feel if we didn't literally carry a piece of the other's soul with us.”

Their eyes flicked toward me, a spark of mischief creeping back into their expression. “Sounds like love to me.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “It’s been less than a week.”

“And?” they countered, their tone light but pointed. “Time doesn’t mean much when you’ve been through what you two have. Besides, feelings are a bit fucky when it comes to soul-bonds I imagine, right?”

I didn’t answer immediately, letting the truth of their words sink in. The bond had accelerated everything, but it hadn’t created something out of nothing. Crone had said so anyway, and she of all people should know. Jin’s presence had become a constant, a part of my life I couldn’t imagine losing.

“You’re right,” I said finally, my voice soft. “But that doesn’t mean I know what to do with it.”

Viper’s smirk softened into something closer to a smile. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. You’ve got time. And you’ve got people who have your back—like me.”

I smiled faintly, their words warming something deep in my chest. “Thanks, Vi.”

They grinned, nudging me with their elbow. “Don’t get used to it. I still expect you to pull your weight.”

“Wouldn’t dream of letting you down,” I said, handing the joint back to them. "Then again you are—once again—crashing on my couch."

The half-devil didn't bother responding, and we fell into an easy silence after that, the city lights stretching out below us like a sea of stars. The blanket pulled snugly around our shoulders carried the scent of our smoke and something uniquely Them—familiar, comfortable, home. I let myself lean into that comfort, the tension in my chest finally loosening as the weight of the day began to ebb.

“For real though, you ever really think about the orphanage?” I asked after a long stretch of quiet, our conversation coming full-circle.

Viper glanced at me, their expression unreadable. “Sometimes. Not as much as I used to. Why?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice distant. “It just hits me sometimes—how far we’ve come, but also... what we left behind.”

They nodded slowly, their gaze drifting to the skyline. “We lost a lot, Rak'. But we made it out of all the shit that happened. That’s more than most of them got.”

Their words hung heavy between us, pulling my thoughts back to faces and names I hadn’t spoken in years as my mind drifted towards what the orphanage had lead to. The soldiers in black. The Lab. The torture. The weight of it pressed down, but it didn’t feel as suffocating as it used to.

Who knows whether that's Viv or the smoke talking.

“You think they’d recognize us now?” I asked softly.

Vivi smiled bitterly, their teeth bright against their dark skin and even darker surroundings. “Hell no. But maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Maybe,” I echoed.

The orphanage had been a bleak place, all cold walls and harsher rules, but it was nothing compared to what came after. My thoughts drifted unbidden to the night the fire tore through its brittle frame, thick smoke choking the air as chaos unfolded. The nonhuman kids—kids like us—had been rounded up like cattle by figures in black armor.

“They didn’t even try to hide what they wanted us for,” I muttered, the memory as sharp as broken glass.

Vivi’s grip on the joint tightened momentarily before they took another drag, the ember flaring bright red. Their expression darkened, shadows playing across their features in the low light. “No. They didn’t.”

The tests. The chains. The sterile, antiseptic scent of the labs. The buzzing of fluorescent lights that seemed to mock our confinement. It all surged back with the weight of a nightmare that never quite faded, clawing at the edges of my thoughts like a relentless tide.

“I used to count the seconds,” I said softly, the words pulling from a part of me I rarely touched. “From when they opened the door to when they dragged the first kid out. Five. Ten. Never more than fifteen.”

My friend didn’t respond right away. Their free hand brushed against my arm beneath the blanket—a gesture so small it might have gone unnoticed under different circumstances.

“You know, that one day I thought they’d broken you,” Vivi said finally, their voice barely above a whisper. “That one day they brought you back to the cell, and you just... sat there. Didn’t say a word. You stared at the floor like you weren’t even there anymore. I thought I’d lost you.”

I closed my eyes, the memory jagged and unrelenting, fighting to return from a corner I'd buried it in years ago. “I think a part of me did break that day,” I admitted. “They weren’t just testing anymore. They wanted to see how far they could push. How much pain I could take before I stopped fighting... before I stopped regenerating.”

Their hand tightened on my arm, grounding me. “But you didn’t stop. Even when you should have. You kept going. You always did.”

“It wasn’t strength,” I said, my voice rough with the weight of it. “It was you. Knowing you were there, that you’d fight like hell to pull me back if I slipped too far. That’s what kept me going.” At least that's what I've been telling myself all this time. Vivi let out a shaky laugh, their lips twitching as they attempted to put our childhood horrors into words. “You were my reason, too. Every time they came for one of us, I told myself, ‘If they can survive this, so can I.’”

The knot in my chest tightened further. “We shouldn’t have had to survive it, Vivi. We were just kids.”

“Yeah,” they said quietly, their gaze dropping to the city below. “But we did. And now, here we are.”

We sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of our shared history pressing down like a leaden fog. The city hummed softly around us, its indifferent pulse strangely comforting in the stillness.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” they said eventually, their tone lighter but edged with something raw. “How much of who we are now came from that hellhole?”

I snorted faintly, shaking my head. “We wouldn’t have made it without each other. That’s the only part I don’t regret.”

“Damn right,” Viv said, their faint grin curling into something sharper as they passed me the joint. “You and me against the world. Always has been.”

“Always will be,” I murmured, taking a slow drag. The smoke warmed my lungs, its haze dulling the sharper edges of memory.

They leaned back against the wall, their gaze lifting to the faint outline of stars beyond the city lights. “You know,” Vi said softly, “when we were younger, I thought we’d end up running off somewhere. Just the two of us. Some quiet place where no one gave a damn about what we were.”

I laughed quietly, the sound tinged with old longing. “Yeah, me too. Fairly sure we talked about it at some point, you know? I figured we’d find a cabin in the middle of nowhere, live off the land like some old story. Maybe get a couple goats or something.”

They chuckled, the sound dry but genuine. “Goats, huh? That would’ve been your pick. I’d want a bird. Something scrappy, like a crow.”

“Because you’re predictable,” I teased, the corner of my mouth twitching upward. “Still, I think I’d take that over this.” I gestured vaguely to the city skyline, its glittering expanse sprawling endlessly. “Even if we lasted about a week before losing our minds.”

“Three days, tops,” they countered, their grin widening.

The conversation lulled again, each of us thinking about what could have been. My mind drifted back to the present—to Jin, asleep inside, and the way everything had shifted in the span of just a few days.

“She reminds me of you,” I said suddenly, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Viv arched an eyebrow, their lips twitching into a smirk. “The succubus? I’m flattered, but you might want to unpack that one for me. Unless this is about goat herding again.”

I rolled my eyes, though the faint smile lingered. “Not like that, you ass. I mean... the way she fights to survive. The way she clings to the scraps of trust she can find. It’s like looking at us, back when everything was falling apart, again and again.”

Their smirk softened, something thoughtful settling in its place. “She’s lucky you found her, then. You’ve always been good at pulling people out of the dark.”

I let out a quiet laugh, the sound tinged with disbelief. “I don’t know about that. Half the time, I feel like I’m just winging it.”

“You are,” Vivi said with a grin. “But you’ve got good instincts, Rak’. You always have. She’s better off with you than she’d be anywhere else.”

Their words settled over me like a warm weight, comforting but not quite dissolving my doubts.

“You think it’s too fast?” I asked quietly.

They tilted their head. “What is?”

“This. Everything with her.” I gestured vaguely toward the apartment. “It’s been five days, Vivi. Five days, and of course I already care about her. A lot. But... is that me? Or is it the bond messing with my head?”

Vi hummed thoughtfully, their gaze distant. “Maybe it’s both. Maybe the bond’s amplifying what’s already there. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real. You wouldn’t feel this way if there wasn’t something worth feeling.”

Their answer was frustratingly simple, yet something about it rang true. “I just don’t want to hurt her,” I said, my voice quieter. “She’s been through enough.”

Their gaze softened, their confidence in me unwavering. “You won’t. You’ve got a good heart, Rak'. She sees it, even if you don’t always. And I'll bring this argument full-circle for a third time if you need me to.”

---

Vivi leaned forward, resting their elbows on their knees as the joint burned low between their fingers. Their gaze turned back toward the skyline, the sounds of the city filling beat after beat of silence between us. “You know,” they said, their voice melancholy, “when I first saw how Jin clung to you in HQ, I got jealous.”

The confession startled me, and I turned to look at them. Jealousy wasn’t something I associated with them. All the relationships we'd been through had never been an issue for either of us. They always had this effortless self-assurance, an unshakable belief in their place in my life.

“Jealous?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Of Jin?”

Vi nodded, their jaw working briefly. “Yeah. And it pissed me off. Me? Jealous? Over someone who was clinging to you because she was terrified out of her mind? Egregious." They laughed mirthlessly. "But seeing you hold her like that... seeing the way she looked at you, like you were her entire world...”, they trailed off, their fingers idly fidgeting with the remains of the joint.

“It wasn’t logical,” they admitted after a pause, their voice quieter. “But it hit me anyway. I wasn’t used to truly sharing you.”

“Sharing me?” I asked gently, trying to piece together what they meant. “Viv, you’ve never had to share me. You’re part of me. Always have been.”

They gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle, their gaze dropping to their lap. “Yeah. But for the first time, it felt like there was this... space between us. Something I couldn’t touch. And it scared the hell out of me, Rak'.”

Their vulnerability hit me hard. My best friend—the strongest person I knew—was laying bare something fragile and raw. I shifted slightly, angling myself toward them. “You’ll always have a place with me,” I said firmly. “Always, Vi. Nothing about that has changed.”

Their eyes lifted to meet mine, searching for something I hoped they found. “Hasn’t it, though?” they asked softly. “You’re different now. Everything’s different.”

I hesitated, their words cutting close to the doubts I hadn’t let myself fully acknowledge. “Things are different,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t mean you’re any less important to me. You’ve been with me through everything, Vivi. I don’t know who I’d be without you.”

Their laugh was quiet, almost bitter. “I don’t know who I’d be without you either. That’s what scares me.”

I reached out, my hand finding theirs again under the blanket. Their fingers twitched briefly before curling around mine, shaking. “You don’t have to be scared,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vi held onto my hand like it was an anchor, their grip firm but not crushing. “It’s not just about that,” they said, their voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been honest with myself about... what I feel for you. We always said it was casual, just fun. Siblings, almost. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.”

The admission lingered between us, delicate and heavy at the same time. I didn’t look away, didn’t let the moment slip past us. Didn't dare to.

“Vi,” I started carefully, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “What we have—it’s big. It’s always been big, in whatever form it’s taken. But if you’re asking if it could be more than that... I don’t know. I’ve never let myself truly think about it that way. Even if there’ve been moments I wished for it, I don't have an answer for you right now.”

Their lips pressed into a thin line, and they nodded slowly. “Yeah,” they murmured. “I guess I didn’t either. Not until now.”

We sat in oppressive silence for a moment, neither of us daring to speak up. Then, Vivi shifted slightly, their hand brushing against mine again.

“Hey, Rak’,” they said softly, their voice unusually tentative.

“Yeah?” I replied, my full attention on them.

“Can I... can I kiss you?” they asked, their eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Not like all the other times. Just once, something real. Just for me.”

The vulnerability in their voice, in their eyes, stole the breath from my lungs. I didn’t hesitate.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Of course.”

They leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away. But I didn’t. Their lips met mine gently, a whisper of a kiss that carried none of their usual teasing or bravado. It was raw and unguarded, achingly sincere.

When they pulled back, their eyes stayed locked on mine, searching for something I hoped they found. “Thank you,” they murmured, their voice barely audible.

I smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from their face. “Anytime, Vi.”

For a while, we sat there in silence, the weight of the moment softening into something gentler, as the half-devil's face showed nothing but relief. Eventually, Vivi stretched, their movements languid and unhurried.

“Alright,” they said, their voice returning to its usual playful tone. “We should probably get inside before I say something cheesy and ruin this whole vibe.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.”

They grinned, standing and holding the door open for me. “Come on, Rak'. Time to get back to your clingy succubus.”

I rolled my eyes, but the fondness in my voice was impossible to hide. “Goodnight, Vi.”

“Night,” they replied, heading toward the couch.

I watched them settle before walking over, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead and then heading back to the bedroom before they could speak up. Jin stirred as I slipped under the blanket, her warmth pulling me in. Her tail curled around my leg as per usual, her head nestling against my chest.

“Sorry I was gone,” I murmured, brushing a hand through her hair. “Needed to think.”

She hummed sleepily, falling back asleep in the middle of kissing my skin. Smiling, I closed my eyes, the weight of the day finally pulling me under. I didn't know if tonight would truly change anything, didn't know if I'd allow myself to truly think about my feelings for Vivi anytime soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

The house we’d been squatting in for the past two nights creaked with the wind outside, the quiet sound of dripping water echoing through the hollow structure. The air carried a damp chill, but it was better than the frost-laden streets. A single beam of sunlight filtered through a crack in the boarded-up window, falling across the makeshift bed where Vivi lounged.

Their dark hair was messy, splayed out against the threadbare pillow they’d scavenged a few nights back. One arm rested behind their head, their other hand hidden under a thin blanket pulled halfway up their stomach. The smile on their lips widened as I walked in, my boots scuffing against the warped floorboards.

“Took you long enough,” Vivi teased, their sharp eyes glinting with something playful.

I rolled my eyes, dropping my scavenged backpack onto the floor by the foot of the bed with a soft thud. “Sorry, next time I’ll ask the rats to move aside faster,” I shot back, crouching down to unzip the bag. “You want dinner, or should I just eat it all myself?”

“Oh, I’m starving,” Vivi drawled, their voice dipping into mock seriousness. “I want a snack first, though.”

I paused, glancing up at them. Their smirk deepened as their foot slid out from under the blanket, toes flexing slightly before tapping lightly against my nose. “Miss me?”

“Well I see you certainly missed me enough for... whatever it is you’re doing under there,” I tactfully replied, swatting their foot away with a grin, knowing full-well what they’d been doing.

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t start because you were gone,” they said, their voice dripping with teasing confidence. They shifted slightly, the blanket slipping lower to reveal the curve of their hip. Their legs, dark and bare before me, stretched out languidly as they tilted their head to watch me.

I felt a flush creep up my neck, but I refused to take the bait. Instead, I focused on pulling items from the bag—cans of food, a roll of bandages, a battered flashlight. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s not working,” I said lightly.

“Sure it isn’t,” Vivi replied, their foot brushing against my shoulder before trailing lower. The touch was light at first, almost incidental, but it lingered just enough to send a shiver racing through me. “You’re always so focused, Rak’. It’s kind of cute.”

“Vivi,” I said, a warning in my tone that lacked any real heat.

“Hmm?” They tilted their head, feigning innocence as their foot pressed more firmly against my thigh. “You seem tense. Want me to help you relax?”

I set the flashlight down carefully, my hands steady despite the growing tension between us. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” they said, their voice a purr. Their foot slid higher, brushing against the seam of my pants with deliberate slowness. “Just stretching. Been a long day, you know.”

I caught their ankle, holding it firmly as I looked up at them. “Long day? You spent all day in bed, lounging around." I scoffed, "Long day. my ass. You’re impossible, Vivs.”

“And yet, you’re not letting go,” Vivi said, their smirk widening. Their other foot joined in, brushing lightly against my side before trailing downward. “Come on, Rak’. You’ve been out all day, working so hard. Don’t you deserve a little distraction?”

Their teasing touch and the heat in their gaze were almost too much. I let out a low sigh, releasing their ankle and leaning forward, my hands sliding up their calves. “You know exactly how to get me going,” I murmured.

“Guilty,” they replied, their smirk softening just enough to reveal something more genuine beneath the teasing. They leaned back, their hands sliding behind their head again as they watched me. “But you like it.”

“Maybe,” I admitted, my hands trailing higher as I leaned in. “But you’re still a pain in the ass.”

They laughed softly, the sound low and warm, as they pulled the blanket away entirely. “Then shut me up.”

---

The blanket hit the floor with a soft thud, and before I could even process what was happening, Vivi shifted, sliding their hips closer to the edge of the makeshift bed. Their smirk stayed firmly in place as they propped themselves up on their elbows, watching me with a glint of mischief in their sharp eyes.

“Well?” they asked, their voice low, almost challenging.

I didn’t bother with a reply. My hands slid down their calves, fingers curling firmly around their ankle as I pulled them closer. Their legs parted easily, their bare skin warm under my touch despite the chill in the room. My breath hitched as my eyes roamed over them—messy, beautiful, and utterly infuriating.

“You’re impossible,” I repeated, leaning down and pressing my lips against the soft skin of their inner thigh.

“And yet,” Vivi murmured, their voice hitching faintly as I bit down lightly, “you’re not stopping.”

“Shut up,” I growled, but there was no bite to it.

Vivi stayed quiet as my mouth moved lower, my lips brushing against the slick heat between their thighs. I could feel their breath hitch above me, their body shifting against the creaking mattress as my tongue darted out, tasting them.

The soft, breathless sound that spilled from their lips sent a jolt of heat racing through me, but I didn’t stop. My tongue worked slowly, deliberately, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath me as their leg trembled faintly in my grasp.

Vivi’s foot flexed slightly, the cool press of their toes brushing against my stomach before sliding lower. I barely registered it at first, too focused on the way their body moved under my mouth, but then their foot brushed against the waistband of my pants, their toes hooking under it.

I let out a muffled sound of surprise as they tugged, their foot sliding against the now bare skin of my hip before trailing lower. My cock, already painfully hard from the teasing, jerked at the faint contact, and I groaned against them, glaring at them without stopping my ministrations.

“Something wrong, Rak’?” Vivi asked, their voice breathy but still laced with that infuriating confidence. “Something you wanna complain about?”

I didn’t bother responding, my tongue pressing harder against them as my free hand slid up their thigh, holding them steady as I worked. But Vivi wasn’t letting up either. Their foot moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against the sensitive length of me, their toes curling lightly as they applied just enough pressure to make my breath hitch.

“Gods,” I muttered against them, my voice muffled.

“Don’t stop now,” Vivi teased, their smirk audible in their tone as their foot pressed more firmly, sliding up and down with a rhythm that made my hips jerk involuntarily. “You’re doing such a good job.”

I growled softly, my nails digging into their skin as my tongue moved faster, flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves that made their thighs quiver. The taste of them, the way their body arched under my touch—it was almost enough to make me forget the maddening, deliberate motion of their foot against me. Almost.

Their breathing grew heavier, their smirk faltering slightly as their hips bucked against my mouth, but their foot never stopped moving. Every brush of their toes, every deliberate press of their arch, sent another jolt of pleasure through me, my own movements growing increasingly frantic as I tried to keep up.

“Rak’,” Vivi murmured, their voice breaking into a soft gasp as their body tensed beneath me.

I could feel them trembling, their release building as my tongue pressed harder, flicking and swirling with every movement. All the while, their foot continued its maddening rhythm.

---

When they came, it was with a sharp, breathless cry, their body arching off the bed as their thighs clenched around me. I didn’t stop, my tongue moving slower now, teasing and drawing out every shudder and whimper that spilled from their lips.

Their foot pressed harder against me, the movement unsteady but still deliberate as I groaned, my own release building dangerously fast under their teasing.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Vivi whispered, their voice shaky but triumphant as they tilted their head to look down at me. “Good. Let’s see if you can keep going after you—”

Their words cut off as I growled softly against them, my hands gripping their hips to steady them as they quivered in my grasp. But they weren’t done. Their foot pressed harder, the arch sliding up and down my length with a rhythm that sent shocks of heat through my body.

I pulled back, my breath ragged as I wiped my face with the back of my hand. Their smirk was waiting for me, unrelenting as always, their sharp eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room.

“Vivi,” I muttered, my voice low and strained as I leaned back on my knees.

“Hmm?” they hummed, feigning innocence as their foot slid against me again, the deliberate motion making my hips jerk despite my attempts to keep steady.

Without a word, I pushed myself up, climbing onto the bed and hovering above them, my hands planted on either side of their head. The bed creaked under our combined weight, the warped wood beneath the thin mattress groaning softly as I leaned closer.

Their smirk widened, their dark hair splayed out around them like a halo as they looked up at me, utterly unbothered. “Giving up already?” they teased, their tone dripping with amusement.

“Did you find or steal any condoms while scavenging?” I asked, my voice low and breathless, my arms trembling faintly as I tried to hold myself steady above them.

Their lips curled into a mischievous grin, their foot still brushing against me in slow, torturous strokes. “No,” they replied, their voice a soft purr. “Didn’t think to look. Did you?”

I let out a shaky breath, my chest heaving as I shook my head. “No,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Well,” they murmured, their smirk softening into something almost affectionate. “Guess hands will have to do then.”

Before I could respond, their hand slid down between us, their fingers curling around me with a firm, confident grip. The heat of their touch sent a shudder through my body, my arms nearly giving out as they began to stroke me with deliberate precision.

My breath caught, my head dropping as I leaned closer, my forehead brushing against theirs. Their other hand slid up to rest on my chest, their fingers splayed against my damp skin as they worked me with steady, unrelenting movements.

The tension coiling low in my stomach grew tighter with every stroke, the friction of their hand combined with the faint teasing of their foot enough to leave me trembling above them.

“Look at you,” Vivi murmured, their voice soft but teasing as their thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, drawing a sharp gasp from me. “You’re shaking.”

“Vivi,” I muttered, my voice cracking as my hips jerked against their hand.

“Hmm?” they replied, their smirk widening as their pace quickened, their grip tightening slightly. “Don’t hold back, Rak’. I want to see you let go.”

The words sent me over the edge.

The tension snapped, my body arching above them as a sharp, guttural sound tore from my throat. My release spilled from me in hot, thick streams, streaking across their dark skin. Vivi didn’t falter, their hand stroking me through it, milking every last drop as I shuddered above them, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

When it was over, I collapsed onto the bed beside them, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. Vivi’s hand lingered for a moment before they finally let go, glancing down at the mess splattered across their stomach and chest.

“Messy,” they remarked, their voice light and amused as they swiped a finger through it, holding it up like they were inspecting the quality of their work.

I groaned softly, covering my face with one hand as I tried to regain my composure. “You’re impossible,” I muttered for a third time since getting back, though the words lacked any real heat.

“And you love it,” they shot back, their grin sharper than ever as they leaned back against the mattress, utterly unbothered by the mess.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head as I turned to look at them. “Maybe I do.”

They smiled, their expression softening just enough to reveal the affection beneath their teasing. “Then we’re even,” they said simply, their voice warm as they stretched out beside me, their body still damp and glowing faintly in the dim light.

The house creaked softly in the wind, the chill creeping back in as the heat of the moment faded. I reached out, pulling the blanket over us after quickly cleaning them with a nearby towel .

“Thanks,” I said softly, my voice barely audible.

“For what?” Vivi asked, their tone light but curious.

“For being here,” I replied, my hand finding theirs beneath the blanket. “For making this feel like home.”

The sleepy half-devil squeezed my hand gently. “Always, Rak’. Always.”

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable; it was filled with the steady rhythm of our breathing, the faint rustling of sheets beneath us, and the occasional creak of the house as the wind pushed against it.

Vivi shifted first, propping themselves up on one elbow to glance down at me. Their smirk, ever-present but now softened, tugged at their lips as they reached out to flick a strand of hair away from my face. “You look like you just ran a marathon,” they teased, their voice light but fond.

I snorted softly, turning my head to meet their gaze. “Says the one who made all the mess.”

“Guilty,” they said, unrepentant. Their sharp eyes glinted with humor as they sat up. “Alright, superhero. What’d you bring back from your scavenger hunt for me to eat?”

I rolled my eyes, sitting up as well and reaching for the discarded backpack. “You’re lucky I even bother to bring you anything,” I muttered, though there was no real bite in my tone. I pulled the bag I'd discarded earlier closer, unzipping the other pocket to reveal the modest haul of canned goods, bandages, and other essentials I’d managed to scrape together.

Vivi leaned over, their interest piqued as they peered inside. “Hmm. Let’s see… we’ve got mystery meat, probably-not-beans, and oh, look—suspiciously dented tomato soup. What a feast.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied dryly, tossing one of the cans into their lap. “Hope you enjoy the culinary experience.”

They laughed, the sound low and warm, as they caught the can and examined it .I dug into the bag again, pulling out a can opener and handing it to them. “This is better than that old knife we always use. Just don’t hurt yourself trying to figure out how to use this.”

“Ha-ha,” they said, mimicking a laugh as they took the can opener and set to work. The sound of metal puncturing metal filled the quiet house, followed by the vaguely metallic smell of preserved food.

Once the can was open, Vivi held it up, inspecting the contents with exaggerated scrutiny. “Well, it’s not poison. That’s a start.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head as I reached for another can. “Don’t get too picky. It’s this or starving another day.”

We sat together on the blanket, sharing the canned food with the ease of familiarity. The food was cold, the taste bland and slightly metallic, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the warmth of Vivi’s shoulder against mine, the sound of their laughter, and the way the world outside felt so far away when it was just the two of us.

“You know,” Vivi said between bites, their tone thoughtful, “for all the complaining I do, I think I’d starve without you.”

“You’re not wrong,” I replied, smirking as I took a bite from my own can. “But at least you’d be dramatic about it. I can already picture the epitaph: ‘Here lies Vivarian Vee. Starved to death because they were too picky to eat canned soup.’”

“Hey,” they said, nudging me with their elbow. “I'd make sure my headstone would not have my full name on it. Also I’d have a way cooler epitaph than that.”

“Alright, what would it be?” I asked, leaning back slightly to look at them.

They tilted their head, their sharp green eyes glinting with mischief as they considered the question. “Hmm. How about… ‘Vivi: Master of Sass, Slayer of Boredom, Gone Too Soon.’”

I sneered, hiding a laugh while shaking my head. “Cheesy.”

We finished the rest of the food in companionable silence, the warmth between us feeling like yet another blanket. When the cans were empty, I leaned back against the makeshift bed, letting out a content sigh as my friend stretched out beside me.

The house creaked again as the wind pushed against its weathered walls, but inside, everything felt still. Warm. Safe.

When sleep finally, mercifully, claimed me, the familiar dreams came in pieces—disjointed and jagged, like shards of broken glass scattered across my mind. Each fragment cut deeper than the last, opening the many scars the years had left upon my mind.

The acrid stench of smoke clung to the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. My legs burned as I ran, cobblestones sharp beneath my feet, slick with grime and worse. Behind me, my father’s roar echoed—a guttural, inhuman sound that carried defiance and desperation in equal measure.

I turned sharply into an alley, nearly stumbling as the heat of flames licked at my back. The shattered remains of our home loomed ahead, warped and twisted by the fire consuming it. Behind me, my father’s massive living stone wings stretched wide in a final act of defiance, his stance protective even in death. Cracks spiderwebbed across his surface, pieces of him crumbling to ash with every passing second as he petrified for the last time in his life.

From within the inferno ahead of me, my mothers' voices rose above the chaos, desperately trying to get my attention. “Run, little pebble! Don’t stop running! Don't ever stop running”

I tried to obey, my legs churning against the weight of terror, but the shadows closed in faster than I could move. Chains rattled behind me, metallic and serpentine, slithering toward me with a predator's glee I swore I could feel. They wrapped around my wrists and ankles, their weight dragging me down and down and down and—

---

The flames faded, replaced by the cold, fluorescent glare of the lab. Yellowed concrete that could at one point have been white bit into my knees, rough and damp with mildew. My wrists were rubbed raw where the chains held me in place. The air reeked of damp rot, the oppressive scent sharp enough to sting my nose. Around me, the other children huddled in the shadows, their eyes hollow, their bodies battered and bruised. I was one of the few in better shape, and conversely was pulled by our tormentors more often. Regenerator's luck.

I searched for Vivi instinctively, my gaze scanning the dimly lit room until it landed on the thin half-devil. They were slumped against the far wall, the dye in their dull and matted hair long faded, their sharp eyes usually so full of fire now glazed over with exhaustion and pain. Many many scars covered their dark skin, some bright and new enough to be visible even in the low light.

I pulled at the chains, the metal biting into my skin as I fought to reach them. The door creaked open, and the rhythmic echo of boots on concrete sent a chill racing down my spine.

“Bring the next one,” a voice commanded, cold and detached, as if we weren’t even alive. "Make sure it's one of the more... resilient subjects."

Hands grabbed me, yanking me forward. The other children shrank back into the shadows as the light above grew brighter, blinding. I fought against the hands that held me, fought against the chains, fought against the inevitability of it all.

And then—

---

I was back on the streets, older and colder. The threadbare coat I’d scavenged barely held back the biting wind. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and every shadow seemed alive with menace, waiting to pounce.

I turned into an alley—a dead end. The walls closed in as footsteps echoed behind me, the sound accompanied by cruel, mocking laughter.

“You think you’ll survive out here, freak?”

A fist came out of nowhere, catching me across the jaw halfway through turning around, sending me sprawling into the muck. The ground was wet and cold, the stench of rot filling my nose as I tried to push myself up. Another kick landed in my ribs, sharp and unrelenting, driving the air from my lungs. I coughed, gasping as pain radiated through my chest.

The dream shifted again, fragments swirling together in a whirlwind of chains, blood, and fire. The laughter overlapped with screams, the crack of stone wings shattering, the hum of fluorescent lights. It built into a cacophony that threatened to drown me entirely.

I opened my mouth to scream and all that came out was black ichor, filling my lungs filling my eyes filling my world filling the void between shards between shards between—

A melody.

Soft and familiar, like a thread of light weaving its way through the darkness. A lullaby.

The chains loosened. The laughter faded. The cold light dimmed. Gone was the black ichor.

Peace.

---

I woke with a gasp, my chest heaving as I clawed my way back to reality. My skin was slick with sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs as the room swam into focus. The first thing I registered was warmth—two distinct sources pressing against me from either side.

On my left, Jin clung to my arm, her pink eyes wide and wet with tears reflecting the soft glow of her eyes. Her tail was coiled tightly around my leg, and her grip on me was firm, as if she could physically hold me in place and keep me from slipping away. Her cheeks were damp, her expression raw with fear and worry.

On my right, Vivi sat on the edge of the bed, their arms loosely draped around my neck. Their voice, usually sharp and teasing, was low and melodic as they hummed softly—a tune I hadn’t heard in years but knew as well as my own heartbeat.

“You scared the hell out of us,” they said quietly, their usual bravado replaced by worry.

I struggled to catch my breath, the remnants of the dreams clinging to me like a second skin. My voice was hoarse when I finally managed to speak. “How...?”

Jin nuzzled against my arm, her fingers curling tightly into my sweated-through shirt as her tail tightened its hold. Vivi gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaning back slightly, their sharp eyes resting on Jin.

“She came to get me,” they explained, nodding toward the weeping succubus. “You wouldn’t wake up. You were thrashing, mumbling... damn near knocked yourself off the bed.”

I glanced down at Jin, her tears glistening in the dim light. The fear in her gaze was palpable, her silent plea clear even without words. My chest ached at the sight of her, and I reached up to brush a hand through her hair.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the words catching in my throat. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her grip on me tightened briefly before she relaxed just enough to lean more fully into my side, her tail twitching faintly as it adjusted its hold.

“You were dreaming about the past again,” Vivi said bluntly, their voice steady but laced with concern.

The mention of it sent a shiver down my spine, and I closed my eyes, trying to shake the vivid images that still lingered. “Yeah,” I admitted after a moment, my voice barely above a whisper. “It was... all of it, mixed together. My parents. The fire. The labs. The streets. Everything.”

“Figured as much,” Vivi said. “You were mumbling about chains, the fire... your folks. Sounded like a greatest hits of all the shit you’ve been through.”

I let out a shaky breath, my hand moving to rest against Jin’s back as she pressed closer to me. Her presence was grounding, pulling me back to the present as the weight of the dream began to recede.

“It’s not real anymore,” I said softly, though the words felt hollow even as I spoke them.

Vivi snorted, their smirk faint but tinged with something bitter. “Yeah, sure. Because trauma totally just disappears if you ignore it hard enough.”

I shot them a weak glare, but the truth in their words wasn’t lost on me.

Jin shifted slightly, her fingers brushing over the runes etched into my skin as if trying to reassure herself that I was real.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, the words meant for both of them. “For worrying you.”

Vivi’s smirk softened into something more genuine as they leaned back against the headboard. “Don’t mention it. We’ve all been there, right? You’ve pulled me out of more than a few of these. Guess it’s my turn.”

Their words tugged at memories I’d tried to bury—the nights we’d spent pulling each other back from the edge, one nightmare at a time. Back then, it had been a matter of survival, of holding on to anything that kept us tethered to reality.

“You were humming,” I said after a moment, the softness in my tone surprising even me.

Vivi tilted their head, their sharp eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. “Figured it might help. It always used to.”

The melody lingered in my mind, weaving through the frayed edges of the dream like a lifeline. It was an old lullaby, one of the few pieces of comfort we’d had in the orphanage. One of the older kids used to sing it, their voice soft and unsteady, but steady enough to calm the younger ones when things got bad.

“It still does,” I admitted, the words rough with emotion.

Jin’s gaze flicked between Vivi and me, her pink eyes questioning. Her fingers moved in small, deliberate patterns against my chest, still tracing the faint scars that marked my skin. The gesture was grounding, a reminder that I was here, now, with her.

“It’s just an old song,” I explained softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “Something we picked up back then. A lullaby.”

Vivi chuckled faintly, though the sound lacked their usual edge. “It wasn’t much of a lullaby half the time. More like a distraction. But hey, it stuck.”

“Because we needed it to,” I said, my voice quiet. The memories settled over me, bittersweet and heavy. The orphanage had been a fleeting refuge, barely more than a temporary reprieve before everything fell apart again. But even in its bleakness, we’d found scraps of light—small moments of connection that had kept us from falling apart entirely.

Jin’s fingers stilled against my chest, her tail twitching faintly as she absorbed my words. Her silence was steady, comforting in its own way, but the worry in her eyes hadn’t entirely faded.

“You’ve got a hell of a guardian angel here,” Vivi said suddenly, their tone lighter as they gestured toward Jin. “Not everyone would’ve come running to wake me up. Guess you’ve got a keeper, Rak’.”

I glanced down at Jin, her tail tightening briefly before she nuzzled closer to my chest. A faint smile tugged at my lips despite the lingering ache in my chest. “Yeah,” I said softly, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “I really do.”

Vivi stretched, leaning back on their hands as they glanced toward the door. “Well, I’ve done my good deed for the night. You two should get some rest.”

They started to rise, but I reached out instinctively, my hand catching their wrist. “Stay.”

Vivi froze, their expression flickering with surprise before softening. “You sure? Don’t want to cramp your style.”

I rolled my eyes, though the gesture lacked any real annoyance. “Just stay,” I said again, tugging them gently back toward the bed. “Remember what we talked about outside.”

Vivi sighed theatrically but allowed themselves to be pulled back. “Fine, fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

Jin didn’t seem to mind as Vivi settled on the other side of me, though her tail gave a faint flick before curling back around my leg. She pressed closer to my side, her grip steady and possessive. It was an odd sensation, being held so firmly on both sides, but I couldn’t deny the comfort it brought.

The bed was cramped with all three of us, the blankets barely enough to cover everyone. Vivi leaned back against the headboard, one arm draped casually across my shoulders, while Jin remained firmly against my chest, her breathing soft and even. The warmth of their combined presence settled over me, chasing away the last remnants of the dream.

For a while, none of us spoke. The quiet hum of the city filled the room, punctuated only by the faint rustle of fabric as we adjusted positions. Slowly, the tension in my chest began to ease, replaced by a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in days.

“You really scared us, Rak’,” Vivi said eventually, their tone low but steady.

I nodded, my hand brushing lightly through Jin’s hair. “I’m sorry,” I said again, though the words felt inadequate for the weight of their concern.

“Got nothing to apologize for,” Vivi replied, their hand giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Just... don’t shut us out, okay?”

Jin’s tail tightened briefly around my leg, her silent agreement clear.

The quiet settled over us again as I drifted off between my loved ones.

I woke up to a heavy feeling of... warmth? Not the kind that came from thick blankets or the dim glow of a heater, but something living, steady, and so all-encompassing that it felt like a cocoon I didn’t want to leave. As I blinked awake, I realized where that warmth came from. Jin lay against my left side, tucked so close that the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest was perfectly in sync with mine. Her horns brushed my jaw with every breath, the faint texture of them like a grounding tether. Her hand rested lightly on my chest, her fingers curled just enough to graze the edge of a tit, poking it when she shifted. Her tail was draped lazily across my leg, its tip twitching occasionally, even in sleep.

On my other side, Vivi was practically fused to me, their body molded against mine as if they’d forgotten the concept of personal space. Their arm sprawled possessively across my stomach, fingers brushing against Jin’s tail as though testing a boundary neither of them would acknowledge awake. Their breath was warm against my shoulder, slow and steady, the usual tension in their brow and the calculated edge in their posture were gone, replaced by something so rare it was almost unrecognizable: peace.

I didn’t dare move. The room was quiet, bathed in the faint, muted light filtering through the curtains. It felt fragile, this moment, like the stillness could crack apart at the slightest wrong motion. The events of the previous day clawed at the edge of my mind, vivid and unrelenting. For some reason, my mind lingered on the conversation on the balcony. I’d thought we were veering toward dangerous territory—words that couldn’t be unsaid, truths that couldn’t be ignored. And now, with them pressed against me, their body relaxed in a way that it hadn’t in years, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Jin shifted first. Her fingers flexed against my chest, squeezing my tit through my shirt, the movement subtle but enough to pull me back to the present. Her horns brushed my jaw as her head tilted slightly, and her tail tightened briefly around my leg before relaxing again. She hummed softly, a sound so low and content that it settled something restless in my chest. The succubus looked delicate like this, her sharpness dulled by sleep. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to the way she trusted me enough to be this close, this vulnerable. It was a weight I carried gladly, but a weight all the same. A thought for another day.

A low groan broke the silence, followed by the slight tightening of an arm around my waist. I turned my head just enough to catch the faintest flutter of movement as Vivi stirred. Their eyes cracked open, narrowing almost immediately against the light spilling through the curtains. “Morning,” they muttered, their voice rough and lower than usual.

“Morning,” I replied, keeping my voice quiet so as not to wake the sleeping succubus in my arm fully.

My friend stretched, their arm brushing Jin’s tail once more as they moved. The reaction was immediate: Jin’s tail twitched sharply, a small flick that could’ve been warning or protest. Vivi blinked at the movement, their trademark smirk forming almost instantly. “Well, isn’t this cozy,” they said, their tone sleepy but carrying the smallest edge of teasing. “Guess the bed’s fitting us all after all.”

“You’re the one who decided to wedge yourself in.”, I countered, blissfully ignoring the fact I was the one who’d asked them to stay.

“Not my fault you’re like a living furnace,” they shot back, their smirk widening as they shifted slightly closer, their arm draping more firmly over my stomach. “You practically invited me.”

Jin stirred again, her fingers pressing more firmly against my chest, almost as if to remind me where her claim began. Her horns barely missed skewering me as her head tilted upward, and a soft hum escaped her lips. Her tail coiled briefly around my leg before relaxing, and this time, her eyes blinked open, pinkish and hazy with sleep.

Her gaze met mine first, soft but searching, before flicking briefly to Vivi. Whatever the sleepy succubus saw in their position—Vivi’s arm, their smirk—elicited a faint narrowing of her eyes, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she shifted closer to me, her body pressing more fully into my side as her hand slid under my shirt and upward, knowing full-well where it was headed. Her touch wasn’t aggressive, but I could tell it was deliberately to tease Vivi.

“Good morning,” I murmured, brushing my hand gently through her hair. The silky strands slipped between my fingers, and the slight tension in her expression softened. She let out another quiet hum, her head nestling back against me as her eyes drifted closed again, pressing a quick kiss to my chest that felt searing despite the shirt separating her from me.

Viv smiled slyly. “Well, she’s awake. Guess I’m officially outnumbered.”

Jin’s tail snapped lightly against Viv’s arm, making them flinch slightly. I chuckled, shaking my head. “You were outnumbered the second you crawled into bed,” I said.

“Touché,” Viv replied, their grin widening. “Still doesn’t explain why her tail’s got it out for me.”

Jin’s lips twitched into a smirk, her tail brushing against Vivi’s leg in what felt like a deliberate move. Her gaze met mine briefly, a flicker of playfulness in her expression before she settled back against my chest.

“See?” Vi said, gesturing toward her tail. “It’s plotting my demise.”

“Or maybe it just doesn’t like you,” I said, my tone light.

I could feel the succubus’ grin widen as her tail flicked again, catching Vi’s thigh this time. They raised an eyebrow, sharp eyes narrowing in exaggerated offense. “Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

“Enough,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along the base of one of Jin’s horns. She hummed softly against my chest, leaning into the touch.

Vivi flopped back onto their side, their head resting on my shoulder once more. “I missed how comfortable you are” they whispered after a moment, their voice almost contemplative.

“Me too” I admitted, though my tone carried less weight than the words deserved.

The quiet stretched between us, the air heavy but not stifling. I could feel the tension from last night lingering, unresolved, but I wasn’t ready to bring it up—not now, not here. Jin’s presence against me, warm and steady, grounded me enough to let it lie for now.

Vivi shifted again, their arm tightening briefly around my waist before they rolled onto their back with a groan. “Alright,” they said, their voice brightening with an edge of forced cheer. “This is getting way too wholesome for me. I’m grabbing coffee before I catch feelings.”

“Bring me one,” I called after them, watching as they stretched and shuffled toward the door.

“Only because I’m feeling generous,” Vi replied, flashing a grin before slipping out. “Be back in five.”

---

The door clicked softly as Vivi left, leaving the room wrapped in a familiar, heavy quiet. Jin didn’t move immediately, but I could feel her settling deeper against me, her tail tightening slightly in its familiar place around my leg. Her fingers rested lightly on my chest, no longer tracing patterns but still holding their place like she was claiming her space.

When I tried to shift, even slightly, the response was immediate. Her tail coiled tighter, her body pressing more firmly into mine as her hand slid up toward my shoulder. I paused, half expecting her to ease, but instead, she hummed softly, a low, contented sound that carried more intent than it should have.

“I’m just sitting up,” I said, my voice low and careful, though the words felt more like asking for permission.

Her eyes lifted to mine, still heavy with the haze of sleep but sharper now, carrying an unspoken command: don’t move . Her fingers flexed slightly, her hand resting with enough pressure to remind me who was calling the shots.

I let out a slow breath, settling back into the pillows. The tension in her body eased almost instantly, her tail relaxing its grip as if rewarding me for my compliance. Her lips curved faintly as she nuzzled against my neck, her warmth a steadying weight against me.

“Comfortable?” I murmured, brushing my fingers through her hair. She tilted her head into the motion briefly, her horns brushing my jaw with the kind of precision that felt deliberate. Her tail flicked once against my thigh, the motion unhurried but firm, as if answering without words.

I tried again, slower this time, to shift enough to glance toward the clock. Her tail tightened briefly, but she didn’t stop me. Her hand squeezed the boob it was resting on, like she was reminding me she was still there.

“You’re something else,” I muttered under my breath, though there was no real frustration in my voice. She hummed again, this time softer, as her lips brushed against the side of my neck. Her teeth followed, grazing just enough to send a ripple of sensation down my spine before she pulled back, watching me closely.

The sound of footsteps broke the stillness, and Jin’s ears twitched slightly, though she didn’t lift her head. Vivi returned, carrying two mugs of coffee and balancing a plate of toast on top of one.

“Morning fuel,” they announced, their grin already in place as they set the plate and mugs on the nightstand. “Before she has you pinned here all day.”

I thanked them and reached for the coffee, slow enough this time to avoid setting off another protest from Jin. Her tail shifted but didn’t tighten, her hand remaining where it was as she watched me.

The coffee was strong, its bitterness cutting through the last fog of sleep as I took a sip. Vivi stretched out beside me, their sharp eyes flicking between Jin and me with obvious amusement.

“You two look cozy,” they said, their tone lilting with humor. “Should I be jealous?”

“She’s comfortable,” I replied simply, taking another sip of coffee. Jin’s tail flicked once, brushing my thigh in what felt like acknowledgment. She didn’t look at Vivi, her attention still focused on me, though the faintest twitch of her lips told me she’d heard.

“She’s got you wrapped around her tail,” Vivi teased, their grin widening. “Kind of impressive, really.”

“She knows what she wants,” I said, glancing down at Jin. Her fingers shifted slightly against my chest, her touch steady but unhurried. Her tail flicked sharply against my leg before settling again, a subtle punctuation that felt more playful than annoyed.

Vivi chuckled, draining the rest of their coffee before setting the mug on the nightstand. “Well,” they said, stretching as they stood, “as fun as this is, I think I need a smoke. Balcony calls.”

“Don’t be long,” I said, watching them move toward the door. They glanced back at me, something changing briefly in their expression before their grin returned.

“Don’t let her eat you alive while I’m gone,” they said with a wave, their voice carrying its usual teasing edge as they slipped out.

Jin lifted her head slightly, her gaze following them for a moment before turning back to me. Her hand resumed its slow, measured patterns against my chest, her tail curling more loosely around my leg now. She hummed softly, the sound low and contented, as she pressed her weight into me again.

The sunlight creeping through the curtains grew warmer, painting the walls in gold as the world outside faded.

"Fine, five more minutes."

Five minutes had turned into ten, and ten had turned into twenty by now, Jin's head having settled on my stomach, rising and falling with my breaths. The room seemed suspended in a comfortable stillness, the kind where time melted into nothing but the quiet rhythm of two people breathing in sync.

Then she moved.

It started as a subtle wiggle—her body shifting against mine in a way that felt innocent enough. I blinked down at her, curious, until her hand snuck beneath my shirt. The cool touch of her fingers made me flinch just enough to disturb the moment.

“Jin,” I murmured, my voice low, though it carried more confusion than admonishment.

She didn’t pause. Her claws, carefully retracted, dragged against my skin as she pushed higher, her movements exploratory. Her tail tightened around my leg, her anchoring point as her head nudged against the hem of my shirt.

I let out a surprised laugh as she wriggled again, more insistent this time, trying to push her face beneath the fabric. “What are you doing?”

Jin’s response was a sharp exhale through her nose, almost an annoyed puff, as if I’d dared to question her determination. Her horns bumped my ribs, and she tilted her head to test the fabric’s resistance.

“Wait—Jin, hang on,” I said, laughter bubbling up as I squirmed under her increasingly ridiculous efforts. She gave another determined wiggle, her hands pressing firmly against my sides to hold me in place as she angled her head just right.

She managed to shove her face halfway under the hem, her warm breath hitting my bare skin in uneven puffs. The fabric of my shirt stretched awkwardly over her horns, making me wince as it pulled tight.

“This isn’t going to work,” I said, biting back another laugh as she gave a muffled growl of protest.

Her tail lashed once, snapping sharply against the sheets, before wrapping itself snugly around my leg again. She gave another stubborn push, the shirt now bunched awkwardly against her shoulders. From the outside, it probably looked like she was trying to burrow into me.

“Okay, okay!” I said, my voice breaking into laughter. I reached down, trying to tug the fabric loose from where her horns had snagged. “You win. Just—let me help before you rip something.”

Jin froze, her head tilting under the shirt. I could feel the heat of her cheek against my stomach, the slight tremor of her breath as she waited.

Carefully, I pulled the shirt up and over her head, the fabric finally sliding free with a soft rustle. She emerged triumphant, her sharp pink eyes glinting with mischief and satisfaction.

“Happy now?” I asked, shaking my head at her.

Her lips curved in a small, teasing smile as she pressed them against the rune just beneath my ribs. The mark flared warmly in response, sending a ripple of heat through my chest.

“Of course,” I muttered, half to myself.

Jin’s hands moved higher, tracing the runes along my torso with an almost reverent touch. Her lips followed, each kiss slow and deliberate as she worked her way up my chest. The glowing marks responded to her in kind, their gentle pulses spreading outward like ripples in a still pond.

Every movement was precise but playful, her tail curling tighter around me as though to remind me she had no plans of letting go. Her kisses grew softer the closer she got to my neck, the glowing lines beneath her touch thrumming as if they recognized her.

“You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?” I murmured, though the fondness in my voice betrayed any attempt at scolding her.

Jin tilted her head to glance up at me, holding my gaze for just a moment as if daring me to say more, before she returned to her work, her lips brushing over the rune at the base of my throat.

The sensation was unlike anything else. It wasn’t just her touch, though that alone was enough to send warmth coursing through me—it was the way the runes reacted to her, as though they were coming alive under her attention.

Her horns nudged against my chin as she pressed closer, her movements as stubborn as they were intimate. Her breath was warm against my skin, her hands steady at my sides.

I let out a slow exhale, my fingers brushing lightly over the curve of her back. “You’re so silly,” I said softly, tilting my head to avoid getting gored accidentally.

Jin paused then, tilting her head just enough to brush her cheek against the hollow of my throat like a cat. Her eyes caught mine again, glinting with that same mischievous warmth, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve made your point,” I said, my voice soft with a laugh. “I’m yours.”

She answered with one last kiss, pressed firmly against a rune adorning one of my tits. The glow beneath her lips pulsed pink once, bright and steady, before dimming back down to the regular black unlight.

---

Jin’s satisfied hum as she pressed her lips against the final rune didn’t last long. As she pulled back to admire her work, her tail flicked sharply against my thigh, a subtle challenge glinting in her pink eyes.

“What now?” I asked, though I barely had time to react before she shifted her weight and shoved, catching me off guard.

The force of her movement sent me sprawling flat on my back, the breath rushing from my lungs in a startled laugh. Jin wasted no time straddling my hips, her tail curling around my leg to keep me pinned as her hands planted themselves firmly on either side of my shoulders.

She leaned in close, her lips quirking into a silent, triumphant smirk.

“Oh, you think you’ve won?” I said, squinting up at her through the mess of my hair that had fallen into my eyes.

Her response was a flick of her tongue over her lips, a silent but unmistakable declaration of war.

I didn’t wait for her next move. With a quick twist of my torso, I bucked upward, dislodging her balance just enough to flip us both over. Jin let out a breathy sound of surprise as she hit the mattress, her hands scrambling for purchase against my arms as I pinned her wrists above her head.

“Gotcha,” I said, grinning down at her.

Her tail lashed wildly behind her, the tip flicking against my calves like a warning. Her sharp eyes narrowed, though the mischievous tilt of her smile remained.

Before I could fully savor my victory, she pushed upward with her hips, unbalancing me just enough for her to twist free. One of her hands slipped from my grip, her claws raking gently—but pointedly—against my wrist as she used the momentum to roll us over again.

I landed with a grunt, the mattress creaking beneath us as she pressed her full weight down to keep me pinned. I did note that—if nothing else—this meant she'd thankfully been gaining weight again. Her tail wrapped tightly around my leg, her knees bracketing my hips as she leaned over me with an expression that practically screamed, Try me.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I muttered, though the grin tugging at my lips gave me away.

Jin responded by arching a brow, her hands pinning mine above my head like I'd done to her. I could feel the heat radiating from her as she loomed over me, her horns catching the morning light.

“You think you’re so clever,” I said, planting my feet against the mattress.

Her smile widened, daring me to act.

I took the bait. Bucking up and out, I managed to shift just enough to free one arm. Before she could recover, I grabbed her around the waist, pulling her down against me as I rolled us over once more.

The bedframe groaned in protest as I pinned her beneath me, using my weight to keep her in place. Her tail flailed in mock outrage, smacking against my back with soft, ineffectual thuds.

“Got you again,” I said, breathless but triumphant.

Jin glared up at me, though the sparkle of amusement in her eyes softened the effect. She didn’t struggle immediately, instead letting me revel in my victory for a fleeting moment.

Her tail slipped between us with surprising speed, wrapping around my waist and yanking me sideways. I yelped, startled, as I lost my balance and rolled onto my back once more. Jin pounced instantly, her hands pressing against my shoulders as she perched above me, her grin wide and sharp.

“You cheat,” I said, laughter spilling from my lips as she leaned in close.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence, though the way her tail coiled possessively around my torso told a different story. Her fingers flexed against my shoulders, and I could feel the slight tremble of her breath as she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Fine,” I said, pretending to concede as I relaxed beneath her. “You win.”

Her expression flickered with suspicion at my sudden surrender, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in closer.

The second she dropped her guard, I retaliated. With a burst of energy, I twisted out from under her and grabbed her waist, using her own momentum to flip her onto her back.

Jin let out a startled huff as she hit the mattress, her tail lashing in protest as I pinned her hands to the bed once more.

“You really should know better by now,” I said, grinning as I hovered over her.

She stared up at me, her lips twitching into something halfway between a snarl and a smirk. Her tail looped around my thigh again, but I was ready this time, pressing my weight against her to keep her from gaining any leverage.

For a long moment, neither of us moved, our breaths mingling in the space between us. The tension was electric, crackling and playful, with neither of us willing to back down.

Finally, Jin let out a soft, begrudging sigh, her hands relaxing beneath mine. Her tail stilled against my leg, though the glint in her eyes promised she wasn’t finished plotting.

“Truce?” I offered, my voice light with amusement.

Her response was a quick flick of her tongue over her lips, followed by a small, reluctant nod.

“Good,” I said, releasing her wrists but keeping my guard up as I sat back. “Because if you break it, I—”

She moved faster than I could react, lunging forward and tackling me onto my back once more. Her triumphant grin was the last thing I saw before the sheets tangled around us both in a chaotic mess of limbs, laughter, and breathless declarations of war.

---

The sheets twisted tighter around us with each movement, Jin’s tail flicking erratically as we wrestled. I let out a sharp laugh as she lunged again, her weight pressing me into the mattress. She seemed untouchable, her strength and stubborn determination keeping her just a step ahead of me—until she wasn’t.

The chaos of the tangled sheets caught her off guard as she shifted to pin me down again. She slipped, her balance faltering just long enough for her to stumble forward. A soft mattress isn't exactly made for hooves, after all.

Pain blossomed sharp and immediate as the tip of a horn punctured beneath my jaw, sending a white-hot shock through my skull. I gasped, instinctively jerking back, but the movement only made it worse. Her horn was caught, wedged just enough to tug painfully as she froze above me.

Jin’s eyes widened in horror, the playful glint replaced by raw panic as she realized what had happened. She yanked back in fear and I felt something in my jaw crack. Her claws trembled against my shoulders, frozen in place as blood welled around the puncture.

I tried to speak, but the words came out garbled, thick with the metallic taste of blood.

Her tail thrashed wildly, the sheets further tangling us as she pulled back slightly, her movements frantic. The sharp edge of her horn scraped against the wound, drawing another strangled noise from me.

“Jin,” I managed, my voice a strained rasp as I raised a hand to touch her arm. “Stop—just... stop.”

She froze, her breath ragged and uneven, her pink eyes wide and shimmering with something close to terror.

I nodded faintly, the motion slow to avoid aggravating the wound. “It’s okay,” I whispered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed the lie. Wouldn’t this be a fucked way to die?

Not that I would. I’d lived through worse, right? Surely something this small wouldn't be the end.

Jin shook her head, her expression twisting into something desperate. She pressed a trembling hand to the wound, her touch gentle but utterly helpless. The blood seeped between her fingers, warm and slick, and I could see the panic overtaking her as she realized she didn’t know how to fix this.

Her tail whipped around, the sheets ripping free as she untangled herself from me in a flurry of motion. For a brief moment, she crouched beside me, trying desperately to do something, anything to help.

Then she turned and ran.

In a blur of red hair and glowing eyes, Jin darted toward the balcony, hooves loudly clattering on the hardwood. She shoved the door open with enough force to rattle the frame, stepping into the cool morning air.

“Jin,” I rasped into the empty bedroom, though I doubted she heard me. I heard her, though, whining. Vivi's questions and complaints soon followed, immediately interrupted when they saw the blood coating Jin's hands.

“Okay, okay!” they said, hopping off the railing they must've sat on and following the frantic clattering back inside. “Let’s not freak out, yeah? I’m sure it’s—”

They stopped short as they caught sight of me sprawled on the bed, blood seeping between my fingers where I clutched at my jaw.

“Oh, hell,” the half-devil muttered, their voice dropping into something sharper. They moved quickly, their hands already glowing with magic by the time they knelt next to me.

“What happened?”

“Wrestling,” I managed, though the word came out garbled and wet, trying my best to stay awake by focussing on their eyes. Such a beautiful green.

Vivi’s expression twisted into something between exasperation and disbelief, but they didn’t waste time asking questions. The violet light—as always, matching their hair color—blinded me when their hands lifted toward my throat.

“This is gonna hurt,” they said, their voice steady as the glow intensified. “Hold still.”

The magic burned as it seeped into the wound, a searing heat that made me clench my teeth to keep from crying out. Jin hovered beside the bed, her hands fluttering uselessly as she watched my friend work.

“She’s a mess,” they muttered, glancing at the trembling succubus out of the corner of their eye. “What the hell were you two doing?”

I grunted, the sound half a laugh, half a wince. “It was... supposed to be fun.”

“Yeah, looks like you’re having a blast,” they deadpanned, though their focus didn’t waver from the wound.

Jin made a low, distressed sound, her tail curling tightly around her ankle as she pressed closer.

“Hey,” Vivi said, their tone softening slightly as they glanced up at her. “It’s fine. I’ve got this. Just—breathe, okay? Raku's fine.”

Jin must've nodded, because Vivi turned back to me. Their magic faded, leaving my skin tingly where they'd accelerated my healing. “You’re patched up. Try not to wrestle with someone who has horns next time, yeah?”

I nodded weakly, my fingers brushing against the newly sealed wound. It still throbbed, but the bleeding had stopped, and I could feel the warmth of the magic lingering beneath my skin.

Jin crouched beside me, her eyes scanning my face with a mixture of relief and guilt. She reached out tentatively, her hand hovering just above my shoulder.

I caught her bloodied wrist gently, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m okay,” I said softly.

Her eyes shimmered, and she pressed her forehead to my shoulder, her tail curling protectively around my leg.

Vivi watched us for a moment before sighing and standing. “You two are exhausting,” they said, though their tone held a hint of fondness. “I’ll go get some tea started, I think we could all use a cup.”

The whistle of the old kettle followed us as I guided Jin toward the bathroom. Her steps were unsteady, her tail dragging low behind her as if it carried the weight of her guilt. I kept an arm around her shoulders, steering her gently past the bed and into the cool, tiled space beyond.

“Come on,” I said softly, nudging the door shut behind us. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

The bathroom light buzzed faintly as it flickered on, illuminating the stark whites and silvers of the small space. The coppery scent of blood clung to the air, sharp and unrelenting. Jin’s steps faltered as we entered, her gaze darting to the dark smears staining her hands. She froze.

“Hey,” I said softly, stepping in front of her to block her view. “It’s okay. We’ll clean this up.”

Her eyes didn’t meet mine. Instead, they remained locked on her trembling claws, where drying blood was caught in the grooves. Her tail flicked behind her, agitated and uneven, the tip snapping sharply against the tiled floor.

“Jin?” I tried again, keeping my voice steady.

She let out a low, guttural sound—a whimper that twisted into something deeper, more primal. Her claws twitched, then clenched into fists, the tips scraping against her palms. I reached for her, but the second my hand brushed her arm, she recoiled violently.

“Jin, it’s okay!” I said quickly, holding my ground as she staggered back.

Her breathing grew wild, uneven, and her almost burning pink eyes darted around the room as if searching for something that wasn’t there. But I had an idea of what she was seeing—the basement. The chains. The blood.

“Jin,” I said again, softly but firmly.

She shook her head, her claws rising defensively as though to ward me off. Her body trembled, the panic spiraling out of control as her tail lashed behind her.

“It’s not real,” I said, stepping closer despite the warning flick of her claws. “You’re here with me. You’re safe.”

Her leg snapped toward me in a blur, the sharp edge of her hoof catching my shin with enough force to send me stumbling. Pain shot through my leg, bright and sharp, and I barely caught myself before falling. I recognized her strength in that moment—that kick would've shattered a regular human's leg.

“Stop!” I said, my voice breaking through the haze as I caught her wrists. Her claws raked across my arm as she twisted, the sting of broken skin barely registering over the chaos.

She lunged forward, her movements wild and desperate, and we tumbled to the floor in a tangled heap. The cold tiles bit against my back as I landed hard, her weight pressing down on me.

“Jin!” I said again, struggling to keep hold of her wrists as she thrashed. “It’s me! You’re safe!”

Her claws scraped against my shoulders, her strength almost overpowering as she fought against me. The terror in her eyes was a knife to the gut—raw, unyielding, and entirely out of reach. I tightened my grip, pinning her arms against me as she let out a low, keening sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re not there,” I said, my voice straining but steady. “You’re here, Jin. Look at me.” Her body stilled, just for a moment, her breath hitching sharply in her throat.

“It’s over,” I said, softer now. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. You’re safe.”

Her eyes locked on mine, wide and shimmering with panic, but I could see the faint flicker of recognition breaking through. The fight drained out of her all at once. Her shoulders sagged, her claws retracting as she collapsed against me, her head buried in the hollow of my neck. Her trembling frame was warm and heavy, her breath ragged against my skin.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her as tightly as I dared. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

A shuddering sob tore free from her, muffled against my chest. Her tail curled tightly around my leg, her body trembling with the force of her grief. The tiles pressed uncomfortably against my back, and the dull ache in my shin throbbed with every pulse of blood, but none of it mattered. What mattered was her—her shaking shoulders, the scratch of her claws as she clutched at my shirt, the quiet, broken sounds of her sobs that made me want to weep for her.

“You’re safe,” I whispered again, my fingers brushing through her tangled hair. “You’re with me. I’m not letting anything happen to you. Never again.”

She sobbed harder at that, her tears warm against my skin. I didn’t dare say more. Words felt inadequate in the face of her raw anguish. Instead, I held her, my hands moving in slow, soothing patterns along her back while she cried herself empty. Minutes passed, each one stretching into eternity, before her breathing began to slow. The tension in her body eased little by little, her sobs quieting into soft, heaving sniffles. When she finally stilled, her face still pressed against my neck, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“You’re okay,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’re okay.”

She held tightly onto the fabric of my shirt, and her tail thumped weakly against the floor. Jin’s breathing was still uneven as I shifted us upright, my back protesting the movement. The cold tiles pressed against my palms as I braced myself to stand, my legs trembling under the effort. Jin’s tail unwound from my leg as she stirred, her claws brushing against my side as if testing the reality of her surroundings.

“Come on,” I said softly, tucking a strand of her crimson hair behind a pointed ear. “We need to clean up.”

She glanced at me, her pink eyes rimmed with red, then looked down at her hands. The blood was still there, dark streaks caught beneath her claws and smeared across her fingers—and now on my shirt as well, I guessed. Her breathing hitched again, and I quickly reached for her wrist, grounding her before the spiral could take hold again.

“Just water,” I murmured. “We’ll start with water.”

I guided her to the sink, turning the faucet on and letting the warm stream spill over my hand before coaxing hers under it. The initial touch of the water made her flinch, but she didn’t pull away, her gaze fixed on the pink-tinged swirls spiraling down the drain.

“See?” I said quietly, cupping my hand beneath the stream and pouring it gently over her fingers. “It’s coming off.”

Jin’s claws flexed as she watched, her expression flickering between hesitation and something softer. Her tail brushed against my ankle in an almost apologetic motion. The blood washed away slowly, revealing the pale, delicate skin beneath. I worked methodically, rubbing my thumb along the edges of her fingers to dislodge the stubborn stains. I knew I should've grabbed something to scrub with, but I didn't dare agitate her right now, so slow and steady it was. Her hands trembled, but she didn’t resist, her gaze locked on mine as if afraid to look anywhere else.

“Claws,” I muttered, pressing my finger against her hand until she retracted them. “There you go.”

Once her hands were clean, I turned my attention to her shirt. The fabric was torn and stained, the dark patches of drying blood standing out starkly against the pale material.

“This needs to come off,” I said gently, reaching for the hem.

She hesitated, her claws twitching and retracting again, but she didn’t stop me as I lifted the shirt over her head. The movement was slow and careful, her horns catching slightly on the fabric before it slipped free. Beneath, her skin was pale and scarred. I set the ruined shirt aside, keeping my movements slow and exaggerated to avoid startling her. “Better,” I murmured, though my voice lacked conviction. The exhaustion in her eyes mirrored my own.

Then I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

My own shirt was in no better shape, torn and bloodied from both the earlier accident and Jin’s claws during her panic. Thin streaks of blood—although partway through getting absorbed thanks to my innate magic—had dried along my neck and along my arms where her scratches had broken through, and the faint outline of bruises was already forming where her tail and hooves had struck. My reflection was a mess, the fresh scrapes and gashes painting a grim picture against the glow of my runes.

“Guess I’m not winning any beauty contests today,” I muttered, peeling the ruined shirt off with a wince. The fabric stuck briefly to the deeper gashes, tugging painfully as I discarded it onto the growing pile of ruined laundry. Jin’s eyes darted to me, her expression twisting with fresh guilt as she took in the state of my arms and chest. Her claws flexed, and she looked down at her hands again as if the blood was still there.

“Hey,” I said quickly, turning her face gently back toward me. “It’s fine. I heal fast, remember? No lasting damage, just a few extra scars.”

She didn’t look convinced, but I couldn’t let her spiral again. Instead, I turned back to the sink and splashed water onto myself, scrubbing away the dried blood and grime. The water stung as it hit the open scratches, but I bit back any sound of pain, unwilling to add to Jin’s worry.

“See?” I said, forcing a small smile as the water ran clear. “Good as new."

Jin hovered beside me, her worried eyes wandering between my arms and the sink. When I reached for a towel to dry off, she stepped closer, her tail brushing against my leg again. Her movements were hesitant, her claws curling and uncurling as if debating whether to help.

“You can dry me off if you want,” I offered, keeping my tone light. “But no claws this time, yeah?”

She tilted her head, wearing something like a shy, reluctant smile. Taking the towel from me, she pressed it gently against my arms, her touch careful.

I let her work, her soft movements grounding us both in the moment. But when I moved to straighten up, the knee in my injured leg threatened to buckle, the dull ache flaring into sharp pain. Jin caught the motion immediately, her tail curling around my calf to steady me. Her expression shifted, her worry now focused entirely on me.

“I’m fine,” I said, though the strain in my voice betrayed me. She tilted her head again, her sharp gaze narrowing. Her hands grazed my arm lightly, a silent demand for the truth. I sighed, leaning more heavily against the counter. “Okay, maybe not fine. But I’m not—”

My words cut off as my vision swam, the world tilting slightly beneath me as the leg Jin had kicked gave out. I barely caught myself on the edge of the sink, cursing under my breath. Jin’s tail tightened around me, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“We’ll manage,” I started, though the words felt hollow even as I said them. “We just need to—”

The sound of the kettle whistling faintly in the background reminded me we weren’t alone. “Vivi,” I muttered, turning toward the door. “We need Vivi.” Jin nodded sharply, her tail releasing me as she made her way to the door. She moved with a stiffness I recognized—her limbs heavy with exhaustion and the lingering weight of panic. I decided to make it easier on both of us.

“Vivs!” I called, my voice hoarse but loud enough to carry through the apartment. It didn’t take long for the familiar footfall to come down the hall. Their worried face appeared in the doorway moments later, their eyes sharp with concern.

“What now?” Vivi asked, their tone bordering somewhere between exasperation and genuine worry. Their gaze swept over us, taking in the bloodied towels, Jin’s disheveled appearance, and my precarious lean against the counter.

“Help,” I said simply, gesturing vaguely at the both of us.

The half-devil sighed, stepping into the bathroom. “You two are a disaster. What happened now?”

“Just... a little more chaos,” I responded sheepishly. “Can you...?”

“Yeah, yeah,” they muttered, already rolling up their sleeves. “Let me see the damage.”

Some more healing magic and a quick shower and laundry run later, we'd all settled in the living room in gentle, contemplative quiet, the kind that wrapped around you like the warmth from a well-loved blanket. Mismatched mugs of tea sat cradled in our hands, steam curling lazily from their depths. Jin was nestled close beside me on the couch, her tail draped lightly across my ankle. Her claws clicked rhythmically against the rim of her faded pink mug in lingering unease.

Vivi lounged across from us in the armchair, their legs draped over one side and their oversized green mug balanced in one hand. They sipped from it slowly, watching us with a look that was less teasing than usual, though a small flicker of amusement crossed their face occasionally whenever they—very visibly— decided against voicing their thoughts.

“You know,” Vivi said, breaking the silence, “if you’re done playing the world’s most depressing living room tableau, we should probably talk about that bar I told you about.”

I blinked, turning my attention to them while trying to recall what they were talking about. “The one with the... experts?”

“That's one way to phrase it,” they said, shifting slightly in the chair to sit up straighter. “I mentioned it after your little accident in your quarters the other day, remember? The place that might actually help you figure out what’s going on with the whole soul-bond thing? Or learn more about Jinny here, at least.”

Remembering exactly how I'd put that off, I grimaced. They’d brought it up a few days ago, back when the bond had first started feeling like more than just a faint thread. But with everything else going on, it had slipped through the cracks. Vi raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by my lack of response. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Uh,” I replied wittily.

“Thought so,” Vivi shot back, their tone dry but not unkind. They gestured vaguely with their mug. “Look, I get it. You’ve had... a week, to put it nicely. But you can’t just ignore this, Raku. It’s not like it’s gonna sort itself out while you sit here drinking tea.”

Jin’s claws twitched at the comment, the faint scrape of nail against ceramic drawing my attention. I reached over and rested my hand lightly on hers, and she stilled almost immediately. Her sharp claws retracted, and she exhaled softly, leaning just a little closer into my side.

“Easy,” I murmured, keeping my voice low.

Her tail curled faintly against my ankle in response, and I turned back to Vivi. “I didn’t forget,” I said, though my tone lacked conviction, “Not entirely, anyway. Just didn’t get to it yet.”

Vivi gave me a pointed look. “Okay, sure. Let’s pretend that’s true. The point is, you should go. These people know their stuff. If anyone can help you figure out what’s happening with Jin, it’s them.”

I glanced at Jin, who had gone still beside me. Her eyes were focused on her mug, but the way her tail shifted against my leg and her pointed ears tilted told me she was listening. “You really think they’ll have answers?” I asked, my voice softer now.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Vivi said. “What’s the worst that happens? You spend a couple hours at a weird bar among people like us and leave no worse off than you started. Maybe a little drunk.” I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. The truth was, I didn’t know what I was afraid of. Answers? The lack of them? Either way, ignoring it wasn’t working.

“You’ll come with me, right?” I asked, meeting Vivi’s gaze.

They blinked, their expression shifting briefly into surprise before their signature smirk plastered itself on their face. “You need me to hold your hand, Rak’?”

“Yeah, maybe,” I sighed, my tone dry enough to match theirs. “Or maybe I just think it’s easier than telling a group of strangers “Hey Vivi Vee sent me to learn more about the succubus I’ve got in my home semi-legally I’m not a cop I swear.”

Vivi laughed, the sound light and warm as they leaned back into the chair. “Alright, fine. I’ll come. But only because I like watching you squirm when you have to talk to strangers.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, though the corners of my mouth twitched into a small smile. Jin glanced up at me then, her eyes softening as her tail brushed against my ankle again before she leaned into my shoulders, humming softly to herself.

“Soon,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “We’ll go soon.”

Viv raised their mug in a mock toast, their grin sharpening slightly. “Good. Now drink your tea before it gets cold. You’re useless when you’re grumpy.”

---

Twenty minutes later, the tea had cooled in my hands and we still hadn't gotten anywhere. Vivi stretched in their chair, like a cat forced to wake up from a nap. They’d switched gears to complaining about their perpetually unreliable car. “I swear, I’ve done everything short of a blood sacrifice to keep that thing working over the years,” Vivi said, gesturing wildly with their by now empty mug. “And it still breaks down the week after I get it serviced.”

Jin tilted her head to nudge my shoulder, almost purring contentedly. Speaking of cat comparisons...

“Maybe it’s trying to tell you something,” I said, smirking into my mug. “Like, ‘Stop driving me like a maniac.’”

Vivi snorted. “Please. That car should be thanking me for keeping it alive this long. I’m practically a saint for taking this experimental shit.”

“Sure you are,” I said, rolling my eyes.

They set their mug on the table with a dramatic flourish. “Alright, Rak', if you’re so full of advice, why don’t you come down and take a look? Or better yet, work some of that fancy magic of yours and give it the ol’ jumpstart.”

I raised an eyebrow at them. “You’re really asking me to help you fix your car?”

“Yep,” they replied simply, grinning like they’d already won. “You owe me, anyway. Remember when I covered for you at—”

“Alright, alright,” I said, cutting them off before they could drag out another embarrassing story. I set my mug down and stretched, my muscles protesting as I stood. “Let’s go see if we can make your fancy magitech chariot move.” Jin’s tail tightened briefly around my leg as I shifted to stand, and I glanced down at her. Her eyes followed me, uncertainty passing through them. “You coming?” I asked gently, holding out a hand. The succubus hesitated for a moment, and I could tell she was still apprehensive after injuring me earlier. She did take my hand in the end though, and let me pull her upright and into my arms for a quick hug.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell Vivi was watching us, but for once, they didn’t say anything.

---

The parking lot outside the building was cold, the crisp evening air biting my skin as we stepped out. The rows of cars gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, their metallic surfaces coated in a thin layer of frost.

Vivi’s car was parked near the far edge, a sleek new magitech combination that entirely got rid of the need for fuel, fresh off the assembly line a year or two back. Merc work pays well enough for luxuries like that, after all.

“Behold,” Vivi said, gesturing dramatically. “My noble steed."

“It’s impressive it still runs at all,” I said, leaning over to peer into the engine.

“That’s the problem—it doesn’t,” they said with an overdramatic, but not entirely feigned, sigh. Jin hovered behind me, her hooves clicking against the pavement as she watched. She tilted her head curiously, her eyes flicking between the open hood and me.

“Alright,” I said, rolling up my sleeves. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

I ran my fingers along the wires, testing the connections and looking for anything obvious in the runes etched into the engine. Was this technically an engine? Whatever. Vivi stood beside me, muttering commentary about the car’s various issues.

“Starter’s probably fried,” they said. “Or maybe it’s the heart. Honestly, it’s a miracle it’s held together this long. That's what I get for driving the first generation of a new invention, I suppose”

I nodded absently, my focus shifting to the battery. While it was partially made of magic-touched components, it did ultimately still work like a car battery. “Got jumpers?”

“In the trunk,” Vivi replied, already moving to grab them.

While they dug through the chaotic mess in their car, I turned to Jin. “Think you can grab the cables out of mine?”

She hesitated, her claws twitching faintly, before nodding and heading toward my sedan parked a few spaces away. The sight of her tail flicking behind her as she rummaged through my trunk made me smile despite myself.

“Alright,” I said, connecting the cables to both cars after I'd been handed both. The spark of magic thrummed faintly through my fingers as I pulled power from my car into Vivi's, flooding the wires with magic along with the electricity running through them. Being part antimage had to be good for something, even if it meant your own body was constantly fighting the magic within it.

The engine sputtered, then roared to life, a loud, uneven sound that made Vivi let out a triumphant whoop. “Ha! Take that, you hunk of junk!” they said, slapping the hood affectionately. Jin stepped back, her tail curling lightly around my leg again as she watched, covering her ears.

“Try not to break it again,” I muttered warmly, disconnecting the cables and closing the hood. My hands were singed and numb from the magic, but that would settle in a bit. I did heal fast, after all.

We'd returned back inside after sending Vivi off, and Jin had steadily started to look more and more down. The warmth that had lingered earlier when Vivi was here now felt muted, tinged with an undercurrent of unease.

I first noticed it when she brushed past me in the hallway. She flinched, barely perceptibly, when my arm grazed hers. At the time, I thought it was a fluke, some stray reflex, but it kept happening—small, uncharacteristic hesitations that chipped away at her recently built confidence. Her tail moved in tighter arcs, a clear sign of unease, and the playful flicks and fleeting touches I’d come to expect and love were nowhere to be seen.

She avoided the living room’s reflective surfaces too, from what I could tell. Normally, she didn’t give a second thought to the mirrors around the flat, the gloss of the windowpane or the faint gleam of the television when it was off, but now her eyes darted away from them as though they burned her. When she settled on the couch, it was with her back to the larger mirror near the hallway, her posture stiff and defensive.

“Jin?” I called from the kitchen, wiping my hands on a dishtowel. I’d been chopping vegetables for a quick lunch, but her stillness had drawn my attention more than the rhythm of my knife on the cutting board. “You good?”

She nodded without looking at me, her tail giving a half-hearted thwack against the couch cushion. It was as close to a dismissal as I was likely to get, so I let it drop for now. Still, my gut told me something was off.

By the time we sat down to eat, she’d managed to keep her distance without being too obvious about it. Her gaze stayed fixed on her plate, and though she picked at the food, it was clear her appetite wasn’t in it. I caught her staring at her own reflection in the water glass, her fingers twitching toward it before she jerked her hand back.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked again, leaning forward slightly.

She met my eyes for the briefest moment, her lips pressing into a tight line. Then she nodded again, slower this time, but didn’t offer any further reassurance. She couldn’t verbally, of course, but even her usual gestures of comfort were conspicuously absent.

The rest of the day followed in much the same way. Jin moved around the apartment like a shadow, her gaze avoiding anything reflective. At one point, I caught her standing by the window, her back turned to the glass, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The tension in her shoulders was palpable, but when I approached, she turned and quickly sidestepped me without meeting my eyes.

“Jin,” I said softly, trying not to crowd her. “If something’s wrong, you can let me know.”

Her response was a faint shake of her head, her tail curling tightly around her leg. She brushed past me and disappeared into the bathroom.

I sighed, leaning against the wall and rubbing the back of my neck. She’d been making progress, slow but steady, ever since that first day. There had been bumps along the way, sure—her panic at seeing my blood this morning was still fresh in my mind—but this felt different. It wasn’t just fear; it was as though she was shrinking back into herself, piece by piece.

The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom, steady and unchanging. I pushed off the wall, my footsteps soft as I approached the door. It wasn’t locked, but I hesitated, unsure whether she’d want me to intrude. Instead, I leaned against the frame, knocking lightly.

“Jin?” I called, my voice low. “You’ve been in there a while.”

The water stopped abruptly, leaving only the small echoes of droplets hitting porcelain. A moment later, the door creaked open just enough for me to see her face, damp from what I assumed was a quick rinse. She looked at me, her eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t quite place. Then, with a soft exhale, she opened the door fully and stepped past me.

She didn’t stay long enough for me to ask anything, just brushed by with the same careful avoidance that had colored the entire day since Vivi'd left. Her tail flicked once, more out of habit than intention, before she disappeared into the bedroom.

---

When I stepped into the bedroom later, the curtains were half-drawn, leaving the room dim and muted. Jin was perched on the edge of the bed, her back to me, her posture tense and closed off. Her hands rested on her knees, her claws digging faintly into the fabric of her pants. She didn’t look up as I entered, didn’t even so much as acknowledge me at all.

I hesitated in the doorway, the weight of her silence pressing against my chest. “Jin?” I said softly, leaning against the frame. “You’ve been distant today. I know I keep asking, but is everything alright?”

Her ears flicked, but she didn’t turn around. Her tail, coiled tightly around her leg, twitched once before going still again. It was the kind of reaction that screamed avoidance, a deliberate attempt to shut me out.

I stepped closer, lowering myself to sit on the floor in front of her. “Hey,” I murmured, keeping my voice low. “I'm here, if you need to. I just want to help.”

She finally looked at me, but it wasn’t the gaze I was used to. Her eyes were wide, searching, filled with a tension that made me hurt. She didn’t reach out, didn’t move closer—she just stared, like she was trying to decide if I was safe.

The thought hit me like a punch. She didn’t feel safe—not even here, not even with me.

“Jin…” My voice faltered, unsure of what to say.

She shook her head quickly, cutting me off before I could try again. Her hands clenched into fists on her knees, her extended claws digging into her palms hard enough that I winced on her behalf. The succubus closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.

I reached out carefully, resting my hand on the edge of the mattress. “You don’t have to handle this on your own.”

Her eyes snapped open, sharp and full of something I couldn’t name. She pulled her hands away from her knees, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her tail coiled tighter, her body folding in on itself like she was trying to disappear.

“Okay,” I said softly, leaning back slightly to give her space. “I won’t push. Just… know I’m here.”

She didn’t respond. Her gaze dropped back to her lap, and she shifted slightly, angling her body away from me. The rejection left a hollow ache in its wake. I stayed where I was for a few minutes longer, hoping she might change her mind, but to no avail. Her breathing steadied, her body relaxing just enough to let me know she wasn’t in immediate distress, but the distance between us felt like a chasm I couldn’t cross. With a quiet sigh, I rose to my feet and turned toward the door. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

I didn’t look back as I left. I couldn’t. The ache in my chest was too sharp, the weight of her withdrawal too heavy. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, exhaling slowly as I tried to steady myself.

Something had shifted—something I couldn’t fix with words or reassurances. And for the first time since I’d brought Jin here, I had absolutely no idea what to do.

---

I sank into the couch, the cushions soft beneath me but doing nothing to ease the tight knot in my chest. The apartment felt too quiet without Jin’s presence, I thought, realizing just how accustomed I'd grown to her. The sun had sunk towards the horizon even further, its light now stretching across the living room floor in long, golden streaks, but the warmth it carried felt hollow.

I leaned back, draping an arm over my forehead as I stared at the ceiling. My mind churned, replaying the day’s events in a loop I couldn’t seem to break. Something had changed—something I couldn’t quite pin down—and it left me restless.

What triggered this?

Jin had been doing better. She’d started to relax around me, even around Vivi. The walls she’d built so high had started to crumble, and I’d thought we were finally reaching a place where she felt safe—safe with me, at least. But now…

I closed my eyes, the image of her tense posture and distant gaze burned into the back of my mind. She’d withdrawn so completely, shutting me out in a way that felt deliberate but not malicious. It wasn’t anger I’d seen in her eyes. It was fear.

The scratches on my arms itched faintly, a reminder of the morning’s chaos. I traced the edges of one with my fingers, the sting long faded thanks to my regeneration, but the memory still fresh. Jin’s panic, her thrashing, the wild look in her eyes—it had been a moment of pure, unfiltered terror. Not for me, but for her. Especially after she'd skewered me earlier. Though thanks to Viv's intervention that had been fine, like most minor injuries tended to be around them.

She must still feel guilty about that, I concluded. She’d hurt me—not on purpose of course, but enough to leave a mark. And Jin, for all her strength and stubbornness, carried guilt like a stone tied to her ankles.

It made sense, didn’t it? Her withdrawal, her avoidance—it had to stem from that. She was pulling away because she thought she’d failed me, because she thought she was dangerous after she'd cut me open. It wasn’t the first time she’d reacted this way; Jin had been hard to get used to me in the first place. She didn’t trust herself, or others, and now, after this morning…

She doesn’t want to hurt me again.

The thought hit harder than I expected, my chest tightening as I turned it over in my mind. It wasn’t just guilt she was feeling—it was shame, fear, and a hundred other emotions she couldn’t put into words. And it was all directed inward, a storm she was trying to weather alone.

I sat up, resting my elbows on my knees as I stared at the floor. The weight of the realization settled over me like a lead blanket. She doesn’t need space. She needs reassurance.

But how could I reassure her when she wouldn’t let me in?

The quiet stretched on, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the distant sounds of the city outside. My gaze drifted to the bedroom door, half-closed and bathed in shadows. Jin was in there, alone, and every instinct I had screamed at me to go to her, to pull her close and tell her she didn’t have to carry this weight on her own.

But would she let me? I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly as I tried to steady myself. One step at a time, Raku. You can’t fix everything in a day. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, but it was enough to keep me grounded. Jin might not be ready to let me in, but that didn’t mean I had to sit here and do nothing. I could start small—something to show her that she wasn’t alone, that I wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard she tried to push me away.

I rose from the couch, making my way to the kitchen. The dying sunlight streaming through the window caught the edge of the countertop, casting a soft glow over the room. I opened the fridge, scanning its contents with little focus. As I pulled out a few ingredients, the sound of familiar steps caught my attention. I turned toward the hallway, my heart skipping slightly at the sight of Jin standing there. Her posture was still tense, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, but there was something hesitant in the way she looked at me.

“Hey,” I said softly, setting the ingredients on the counter. “Wasn’t sure if you were hungry, but I thought I’d put something together.”

She didn’t respond, her eyes dropping to the floor as her tail curled loosely around her leg. She took a tentative step forward, then stopped, her claws flexing tensely at her sides. I waited, giving her the space to decide. When she finally moved again, it was to cross the room in a few quick strides. She stopped just short of me, her hands hovering uncertainly before she reached out to brush her fingers against my arm.

Her touch was light, hesitant, but it spoke volumes. I turned to face her fully, my hand covering hers as I met her gaze. “Jin,” I murmured, keeping my voice steady. “You don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you’re feeling—whatever’s going on—we’ll figure it out. Together.” Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against my shoulder. Her tail flicked once, brushing against my leg, and her grip on my arm tightened just enough for me to feel the tension in her fingers.

I held her close, my hand running over her back. The words I wanted to say felt too big, too heavy, so I let my warmth speak for me.

And even if she didn’t believe it yet, I would keep reminding her: She wasn’t alone.

---

I held Jin close, her warmth steadying me as much as I hoped mine was steadying her. The silence between us was thick, a quiet filled with unspoken thoughts that hung heavy in the air. As my hand brushed lightly over her back, I noticed something that hadn’t registered before: she was wearing one of my hoodies. The oversized garment dwarfed her frame, the sleeves hanging well past her hands, and the hem nearly brushing the tops of her borrowed sweatpants.

It wasn’t unusual for her to borrow my clothes—she’d been doing it since the first night she came to stay with me. But today, it felt different. She’d bundled herself up, layers upon layers, hiding herself in fabric that was far too big. It wasn’t for comfort or warmth, not really. It was a shield.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, brushing my hand along the edge of the hoodie where it pooled near her wrist. Why is she doing this? The thought churned in the back of my mind, but I kept my movements slow, my touch gentle. If she needed the space—needed the armor—I wasn’t going to tear it away from her.

“Come on,” I murmured after a moment, tilting my head toward the kitchen. “Let’s get something to eat.”

Her tail flicked against my leg, her claws retracting slightly as her fingers curled against the hem of my sleeve. She didn’t let go entirely but nodded, the movement small and stiff. I stepped back, keeping a hand on her arm to guide her as we made our way toward the table.

Dinner was quiet. Just like during lunch, Jin picked at her food like she was trying to take up as little space as possible. I made a few half-hearted attempts at conversation, but each one fizzled out under the weight of her indifference. Eventually, I gave up, focusing on my own plate while keeping an eye on her out of the corner of my vision.

She ate slowly, methodically, but she didn’t finish. When she finally set her fork down, her eyes darted toward the bedroom, her posture stiffening as if she was bracing herself. She stood, her movements hesitant, and started toward the bed without a word.

“Jin,” I called after her softly.

She froze mid-step, her shoulders tensing. Her tail curled tightly around her leg as she glanced back at me, her eyes wide and uncertain.

“You need to wash up first,” I said gently, gesturing toward the bathroom. “And brush your teeth. Come on.”

Her ears drooped slightly, her posture sinking into itself as she gave a small, reluctant nod. She followed me toward the bathroom, her footsteps dragging, and the closer we got, the more I could feel the tension radiating from her.

Her steps were hesitant, each one an act of will that seemed harder than the last. She paused in the doorway, her claws tapping softly against the wood. Her tail flicked once behind her, coiling loosely around her leg. I moved closer, brushing a hand lightly against her back to nudge her forward. “Come on,” I said gently. “Just a quick wash-up, and then we’ll get to bed.”

Her ears twitched as she stepped inside reluctantly, her gaze fixed on the floor as if the polished tiles were the most fascinating thing in the room. I reached past her to grab the toothbrush, running it under the water and adding a dab of toothpaste.

“Here,” I said softly, holding it up for her. “Let’s take care of this.”

She hesitated, her claws flexing against the hem of my oversized hoodie she was wearing. Her breathing quickened slightly, uneven and shallow, and for a moment, I thought she might pull away entirely. But then she glanced at me, her eyes wide and uncertain, and gave the faintest nod.

“Good,” I murmured, offering her a small smile. “Let’s start.”

I guided her to sit on the edge of the sink, her tail coiling around me like a tether. Her movements were stiff, every muscle in her body screaming reluctance, but she didn’t resist as I tilted her chin upward. Her lips parted slightly, and I slipped the toothbrush inside, keeping my movements slow and steady.

“There we go,” I said softly, my voice as calm as I could manage. “Just like before.”

Her eyes stayed locked on mine, searching for reassurance. Her tail uncoiled from me and brushed against my arm in nervous, hesitant flicks as I worked, the bristles moving carefully over her teeth. She hummed faintly, the sound more of a reflex than anything else, but it was enough to tell me she was still with me.

When I finished, I rinsed the toothbrush and set it aside, stepping back slightly to give her space. She sat still for a moment, her hands gripping the sink as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her gaze flicked toward the mirror again, her entire body tensing as her reflection came into view.

“Jin?” I said gently, reaching out to touch her arm.

She flinched, jerking away as her sleeve slipped up to reveal one of the scars etched into her forearm. The sight of it sent her spiraling; her breathing hitched sharply, and her claws dug into the fabric of the hoodie as if she could hide from the truth staring back at her.

“It’s okay,” I said quickly, reaching out to the shivering succubus. “Jinny, it’s okay.”

Her hands trembled, her claws tearing into the fabric of the hoodie as she curled in on herself. Her tail lashed wildly, striking the side of the sink with a dull thud. She made a low, broken sound deep in her throat, one that sent a cold spike through my chest.

I reached for her slowly, my movements deliberate and careful. “Hey,” I murmured, brushing a hand lightly against her shoulder. “It’s me. You’re safe.”

Her eyes darted to mine, wide and glassy, but there was no recognition in them. She was somewhere else—somewhere darker, somewhere I couldn’t reach her with words alone. I cupped her face gently, tilting her head until her gaze met mine fully.

“Jin,” I said firmly, keeping my voice low and steady. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here, with me.”

Her breathing hitched again, her claws flexing against the hoodie. She let out another shaky sound, her tail curling tightly around her leg as she tried to make herself smaller.

“You’re here,” I repeated, my thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “And you’re safe. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Her gaze flickered, the faintest spark of awareness returning. She blinked rapidly, her breathing slowing just enough for me to see that she was starting to come back to me.

“There you are,” I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Stay with me, okay? Just breathe.”

She let out a shaky breath, her claws releasing their grip on the hoodie. Her hands hovered uncertainly for a moment before brushing lightly against mine. I took them in my own, guiding them away from the fabric and holding them steady.

“You’re not what they did to you,” I said softly, my voice thick with emotion. “None of this—none of these scars—define you. You’re so much more than that.”

She opened her mouth again as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came out. Instead, she pressed her forehead against my shoulder just like earlier, her body trembling as she clung to me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as she shifted and buried her face against my neck.

“They took so much from you,” I murmured, my hand brushing lightly through her hair. “But they didn’t take you. You’re still here, Jin. And you’re not alone.” Her breathing evened out further, her body relaxing slightly against mine. I held her like that for a long moment, letting her lean on me as the tension slowly bled away. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were red-rimmed but focused. Her gaze met mine, tentative but steady, and she gave a small nod as if to say, I’ll try.

“That’s all I ask,” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just keep trying.” Jin's fingers brushed against mine once more in a silent gesture of thanks, and I guided her toward the door with a hand on her back. She walked slowly, her movements careful, as if each step were a test of her own resolve. “Let’s get some rest,” I said, offering her a small smile as we reached the bedroom. “Tomorrow’s a new day."

Jin hesitated at the door. She clung to the oversized hoodie, her hands buried in the fabric as if it were armor. The hem twisted beneath her fingers, the nervous movement stark against her usual grace. When she finally sat down on the edge of the bed, her body was tense, her tail wrapped tightly around one leg, its shaking tip the only hint of her restlessness.

I sat down on my side of the bed, giving her space, though the distance felt heavier than usual. She didn’t look at me. Instead, her gaze stayed fixed on the floor, her shoulders drawn in and her frame tight, like she was holding herself together with sheer willpower.

“Let’s get you settled,” I said softly, my tone steady.

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t resist either as I guided her to lie down. The way she moved was hesitant, her motions jerky, as though she was afraid to do the wrong thing. When she finally rested against the pillows, she kept her hands clenched in the blankets, pulling them up to cover as much of herself as possible.

I adjusted the blankets around her, tucking them in gently, though she stiffened at my touch. Her tail lay limp beside her, unmoving—a stark contrast to the usual way it so often sought me out instinctively. Her body was physically close, but everything about her posture screamed distance.

I could barely see her expression, but the way her pointed ears flattened against her hair was telling. She was closing herself off, retreating into some internal place I couldn’t reach. Leaning back against the headboard, my eyes flicking over her, trying to make sense of her withdrawal. Normally, Jin was the one who sought closeness, wrapping herself around me as though she couldn’t bear to be apart. Tonight, though, she stayed curled in on herself, a fragile barrier between us.

“Jin,” I said quietly, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to stay over there. I’m right here.”

She didn’t move, but her tail gave a faint, hesitant twitch. Her hands gripped the blanket more tightly, and I could see the way her shoulders tensed further at my words. I exhaled softly, trying again. “You’re not going to hurt me.” Her tail flicked again, this time sharper, but she still didn’t respond. Her breathing was quiet, but the hitch in each inhale betrayed her turmoil.

The memory of the morning was fresh in my mind—her panic, the way she’d lashed out unintentionally. She was still caught in it, replaying it in her head over and over, unable to let it go.

“You’re afraid,” I said, keeping my voice gentle. “Afraid you might hurt me again.”

Her hands stilled against the blankets, the motion so subtle I might have missed it if I weren’t watching her so closely. She tilted her head ever so slightly, enough for me to catch the faint glint of her eyes in the dim light. They were glassy, wide with an unspoken apology.

“You didn’t mean to,” I continued, shifting a little closer but keeping enough distance to respect the fragile space she’d created. “You slipped and panicked, these things happen. And Vivi fixed the worst up immediately. But that doesn’t mean I’m afraid of you.”

Her shoulders twitched at that, her body curling even tighter into itself. The hoodie swallowed her up, the fabric hiding most of her except for her tail and the tips of her ears. I sighed softly, leaning back against the headboard again. “Jin, it’s okay. I’m not upset. I just... I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep this wall up.”

The silence once again stretched between us, heavy and charged. I didn’t press her further, didn’t try to close the distance. She needed time, and I wasn’t about to rush her. But every second that passed without her moving closer felt like a tiny weight added to my chest. Her tail flicked once more, slower this time, as if she were testing the waters. Her grip on the blankets loosened just slightly, her knuckles no longer as white. “I’m here,” I reminded her softly, my tone almost a whisper. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Her breathing hitched again, but this time it steadied more quickly. She didn’t move toward me, but the tension in her posture eased just enough to make it clear she’d heard me.

It was a start, at least.