Adam’s eyelids fluttered open. He lay on the cold concrete. Shapes slid into focus until the only solid thing was Elias, squatting beside him, hair a tangle, eyes rimmed red.

“You’re… already here?” Adam rasped as he sat up. “For a second I thought something bad had happened to you.”

“I do look rough,” Elias admitted, “but I’m in one piece.”

Adam blinked away dizziness and swept the empty room. “Where’s Astra?”

“Gone before I woke.” Elias rose and extended a hand, fingers trembling as though the gesture cost him something.

Adam eyed the hand. “So touching’s fine now?”

“Turns out that bug got fixed,” Elias said lightly.

“By Astra?” Adam accepted the grip.

A peculiar light lit in Elias’s green eyes. “Not everything in this story fits its cover, you see.”

“Cut the cryptic stuff.”

“I’m trying,” Elias said, “I’m really trying. It’s like waking up inside my own skin again. Like something finally let go. And I don’t just mean the fever or whatever kept us down.”

Adam studied him.

“For years I drifted, half-conscious, alive but not really, terrified someone would drag me away like they did my sister. They called Eliana’s gift once-in-a-generation.” Elias’s voice sank. “All I remember now is how scared she looked when they took her.”

Adam’s tone softened. “She volunteered to protect you.”

“She did. But it should’ve been me.” Moisture glimmered at the corner of Elias’s eye, but he smiled through it. “Tonight I finally borrowed some of her bravery, and it felt… clean, like cold water.”

“I hope whatever haunted you is… gone,” Adam said sincerely.

“Almost. Except…” Elias tipped his head toward the exit. “C’mon.”

Outside, Ethan Tsai lay curled on the gravel, snoring.

“They took my car and left the cleanup to us, apparently.” Elias’s voice held amusement.

“They?”

“Astra and Eydis. They’ve got their own tension to sort out. Maybe that’s what Eydis meant when she said I had work to do,” Elias said, chuckling.

Adam blinked slowly.

“Anyway, let’s get moving. Can you call a ride?” Elias asked.

Adam was already thumbing his phone. “Tension as in… fighting?”

“You’re not cleared for the details, kid.”

Adam squinted at him. “Who’re you calling kid?”

Elias laughed freely. Dawn cracked the sky open above them, washing the world in pink. He tipped his face up, eyelids half-closed. He drew a slow breath, let it out, and another breath followed.

“It’s rare to see you like this.” Adam slipped the phone into his pocket. “Almost happy.”

“I thought tonight was… was the shutdown,” Elias replied quietly. “Turns out, it was just a restart. Feels wrong not to find out where it goes.”

Adam’s mouth parted like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or worry. “Okay, now you really sound like Eydis. That’s kinda terrifying. She is kinda terrifying.”

A soft laugh escaped Elias; he wiped a tear with the back of his hand. 

“Terrifying? You wouldn’t belie—” He stopped himself, eyes flicking to the sky again. “I think I’m finally noticing the things I used to miss. Like how clean the air feels when you get another chance to breathe it.”

“You’re talking like you’re dying,” Adam muttered. “Pretty sure the fever’s passed.”

“It has.” Elias stared at his hands. “It really has.”

----------------------------------------

Sunlight spilled through the half-open blinds and gilded Astra’s ethereal face in honeyed gold.

Great.

Eydis cursed herself for forgetting to close them. She lifted a palm to shield the glow from Astra’s eyelids, then tried to roll away. A slender arm cinched around her waist, holding her fast to the mattress.

She had meant to retreat to the guest room, yet Astra had tugged her straight into bed and lasted only three breaths before surrendering to sleep. 

Eydis rarely saw her like this: exhausted, unguarded. Questions pressed against her tongue, but they could wait.

She brushed a silken strand from Astra’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Her fingertips lingered on the gentle line of jaw, the elegant rise of her nose, the tempting curve of parted lips. 

Astra sighed and nuzzled into the hollow at Eydis’s collarbone. Eydis’s arms slipped around her on instinct.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” she murmured into silver hair.

“It feels strange, seeing you conscious first,” Astra’s voice was husky with sleep. “I’m savouring it while it lasts.”

“Keep savouring. Dawn hasn’t even brewed her coffee.” 

Astra lifted her head. “You’re not sneaking off, are you?”

“Abandon a warm bed with you in it? Scandalous.” Eydis kissed her eyelid. “Relax. I’m just raiding your kitchen.”

“Every time you ‘cook,’ my smoke alarm has a panic attack.”

“Wild exaggeration.” Eydis eased sideways, but Astra’s fingers locked around her wrist while the other hand hugged a pillow.

Adorable, Eydis thought, one brow arched. “Testing my restraint, are we?”

“We don’t actually need breakfast. We could…” Astra trailed off, crimson blossoming along her collarbones. She cleared her throat, then again.

Heat climbed Eydis’s face. “We do need fuel if we plan to survive… whatever comes later.”

“What comes later?”

“Oh, nothing major. Just something that requires… stamina.” Eydis purred the words and grinned when colour crept all the way to Astra’s ears. “Now sleep. I need to Goggle ‘How to cook food that won’t murder girlfriend’.”

“Girlfriend?” Astra burrowed deeper into the pillow, neck blazing. Hiding again. Even more adorable.

Eydis swallowed a shy smile. “Too quaint? I could always call you my—”

“Your what, Your Majesty?” Mischief danced in crimson irises.

“Partner-in-courtship with undeniable benefits.”

“You’re impossible this early.” Astra’s smile was devastating in the morning light. She reached out again. “Stay.”

Clingy Astra was a rare and precious sight. Eydis’s chest tightened with wanting: hold her all morning or prove she could be more than just the warm body after battle? Longing collided with resolve.

She pressed a kiss to Astra’s forehead. “Rest, or fake it convincingly.”

“As if,” came the drowsy reply, though a sleepy smile betrayed Astra.

Door closed, Eydis released a breath she hadn’t realised she held. Astra might claim she was fine, but Eydis had bound Lust, tasted its memories, felt anger coil inside her. 

She had even considered destroying the damn thing herself. Instead, she handed it to Envy and Cerberus, then severed its link to her mind. Astra needed time to heal; one misstep could shatter the fragile trust they were rebuilding.

Images from Lust’s dreams flared behind her eyes. Her hand clenched the bathroom door handle.

“Well,” she muttered, “isn’t that a little complicated?” A deep breath in, slow release.

Control. Focus. Now is not the time.

Fresh from the shower, she padded downstairs to the kitchen and scrolled through recipes on her phone.

She opened the fridge and stared at a carton of eggs, some potatoes, and butter. Soufflé pancakes? Too ambitious. Standard pancakes? Too pedestrian. Astra preferred protein anyway.

A rummage through the freezer produced a frozen steak. Frost glittered across the surface as Eydis held it up.

“This will do,” she declared, sweeping her hair into a ponytail.

----------------------------------------

“Is this good enough?” Eydis asked, the heat curling around her face.

“No. A little more. Right there. You need to feel it yourself.”

Eydis pressed into the heated flesh. Juice welled up and ran slowly down the edge. “You’re right. But how do I know when I’ve gone too far?”

“Feel it with your palm,” came the reply. “First, curl your middle finger to your thumb.”

Before she could ask what on earth that was supposed to tell her, a sleepy voice drifted from the stairs.

“Remind me never to leave you two unsupervised with raw meat.”

Astra stepped into the kitchen barefoot, silver hair tumbling over one shoulder, eyes holding a fond amusement. A pair of denim shorts rode low on her hips. An oversized white shirt hung loose, three buttons undone. 

The gap revealed a glimpse of dark-red lace, a cross-strap bra peeking out.

What a tease. 

Eydis swallowed. She was certain Astra hadn’t gone to bed wearing that.

She forced herself to turn back to the skillet and followed Cerberus’s instruction. One hand curled into the telltale shape, gauging the firmness. She pressed the steak, satisfied with the give, and slid it onto a waiting platter to rest.

The moment she set the tongs down, Astra’s arms circled her waist. Cool fingers skimmed under the hem of Eydis’s borrowed black T-shirt, exploring warm skin. 

Astra laid her cheek between Eydis’s shoulder blades and inhaled. “It actually smells amazing in here.”

“Is that surprise I hear?” Eydis reached for the mashed potatoes and plated them.

Astra dropped to a crouch, ruffling Cerberus’s ears. The Doberman thumped his tail, smug. “Are you letting our resident hell-hound teach you how to cook?”

Our?

The word warmed Eydis more than she wanted to admit.

She dismissed the puppy with a flick of her wrist. “He’s a connoisseur. Anyway… steak’s resting, mash is mashed, coffee’s strong. Breakfast’s ready.”

“Breakfast? Steak?” 

“Pretend you prefer croissants all you like,” Eydis said, “but I’ve seen the way you devour protein.”

Astra’s cheeks pinked. “You’re not turned off by… my appetite?”

Eydis knew that wasn’t just about food. Her gaze slipped to the loose gape of Astra’s shirt, to the tantalising curve brushing lace and strap. “Is that an innuendo?” 

“What?”

“I mean, you could just be talking about breakfast. But if you’re not…” She dragged her eyes back up to Astra’s. “Then no. I’m definitely not turned off.”

Astra caught her lower lip between her teeth. They moved without a word to the dining table, where she began silently demolishing her dinn—breakfast. Eydis watched with growing amusement as Astra cleaned the plate with alarming speed.

Once finished, Astra dabbed her mouth with a napkin and took a long sip of coffee. A quiet sound, almost a laugh, escaped her.

“That bad?” Eydis asked with a smirk.

Astra’s crimson eyes shimmered. “Apparently, I had to pass out for you to stop pretending you can’t cook. Turns out you’re infuriatingly competent. At everything.”

Eydis leaned forward, grinning. “Guilty.”

“Of arrogance?”

“Of accuracy.”

Astra muttered, “You know… Lust did this, too. It made the perfect cup of coffee.”

Eydis’s smile faded. “I know.”

“You’ve seen the dreams?” Astra’s fingers tightened around the mug.

“I have.”

Tension gathered in Astra’s shoulders. “I hoped you hadn’t—that you didn’t watch me kill you over and over—”

“Hey.” Eydis wrapped her hand around Astra’s. “Those weren’t me. When the real me stood in front of you, you couldn’t do it.”

Astra released a shaky breath. “Now, even when you make the perfect cup of coffee exactly like Lust did, my heart knows the difference. It knows you’re real.”

The words soothed the last raw edge in Eydis. Her fingers finally relaxed just as a wooden chair scraped the timber floor.

She looked up.

Astra was already standing before her, gaze unreadable. Then she sank to her knees, lifting the hem of Eydis’s T-shirt just enough to bare a strip of skin. Her lips landed there, soft and reverent.

Eydis’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry,” Astra whispered. “For doubting you. For… scaring you.”

Eydis sifted silver hair between her fingers and tipped Astra’s chin up. “There’s no scar.”

Without a word, Astra laid her palm flat against Eydis’s stomach, as if testing the truth of it.

“No scar.” Astra’s thumb drew a slow circle round the navel, tracing the lean curve of muscle, barely visible until felt. “Though… this is unexpected.”

Eydis bit back a groan when Astra’s pinkie slipped just beneath the waistband of her shorts, tracing the soft edge before retreating only to glide sideways, brushing the line of her pelvis. 

“That’s why… there’s nothing to forgive,” Eydis said, a little breathless. “The cost of trusting the wrong version of me… it could have destroyed me. What you did made perfect sense.”

Astra lifted her gaze; afternoon light threaded through her silver strands until it struck the iridescence of her eyes. Their crimson depths glimmered with a fire like facetted rubies.

Dark, hot, wanting.

Eydis’s heart skipped a beat, then raced.

Astra closed in, mouth brushing hers, tongue teasing the seam of her mouth, coaxing it open.

“You say things like that,” Astra breathed, “and it only makes me want you more.”

Her mouth followed a path to Eydis’s collarbones, feather-light, descending. Eydis’s head spun; heat pooled low.

“Astra…” The name broke on a gasp when Astra’s mouth brushed just beneath her ribs. A shiver ran the length of her spine. “You’re not making it easy to behave.”

“Then don’t,” Astra said. “What’s stopping you?”

“We only just stepped off a battlefield,” Eydis protested, even as her fingers found the edge of Astra’s shirt.

Astra slid her hands to Eydis’s thighs. “A battle I was desperate to end. And now… it’s finished.”

Eydis tugged her closer, settling Astra astride her lap. She nuzzled the slender line of Astra’s jaw, felt the flutter of a pulse beneath porcelain skin. “I haven’t even had breakfast.”

Lashes lowered, Astra met her gaze, lips parted. “I thought I was breakfast.”

A lazy grin tugged at Eydis’s mouth. “Ice Princess, your reputation is melting.” She nipped Astra’s lower lip, drawing a delicious gasp. “I wonder how far the thaw goes.”

“I do too.” Astra pulled off Eydis’s hairband.

A smoky aroma intruded as her dark waves spilled free. Showering before cooking: a bold, foolish choice.

Eydis scrunched her nose. “I smell like steak.”

If Astra meant what she suspected, this scent was definitely not what Eydis wanted clinging to her. A clear oversight, though she hadn’t exactly planned for this.

“So do I,” Astra’s laugh brushed Eydis’s ear.

“I need a shower,” Eydis insisted.

“Convenient...” Dark promise turned Astra’s eyes molten.

“…I do too.”

That single sentence sliced through the last thread of Eydis’s restraint. She rose and claimed Astra’s mouth with her own.