POV: Seraphine
Seraphine stirred to the sound of her cursed late-night infomercial channel, a too-cheerful voice promising "abs in six minutes or your shame refunded." Her eyes cracked open a fraction—just enough for her tail to betray her, swishing lazily under the sheets like it had already done morning yoga without her.
She blinked.
There was a throw pillow wedged in her doorway. Not from her bed—from her couch.
Her couch which was currently home to:
Zaire, propped half-upright against the wall like gravity had tried to kill him and he'd decided to meet it halfway.
Kaiden, spread-eagle on the rug like a smug chalk outline.
Theodore, sitting on the armrest, awake and stiff-backed—making her wonder if he'd slept at all.
Right. The "you nearly doubled over in pain last night, so we're posting a round-the-clock watch until further notice" situation.
She ran a hand through her hair, caught her reflection in the microwave door, and muttered, "This is what poor life choices look like."
Still… her tail twitched again—slow. Relaxed. She hated to admit it, but… she felt weirdly safe.
---
She shuffled toward the kitchen, stepping over Kaiden's leg like it was a tripwire.
"I swear to every infernal duke, if you twitch I will kick your spleen," she grumbled.
Theo's gaze followed her. "Morning. You shouldn't be moving around too much yet."
"I'm fine," she muttered, flicking a dismissive hand toward all of them. "It was just a passing pain."
The espresso machine hissed to life. The light blinked red. The caffeine gods were near.
Bzzzt.
The door intercom buzzed.
She frowned. "Who—?"
It was 6:17 AM.
She cracked the door in her pajamas—hair a tangled mess, eyelids still heavy—and found herself face-to-face with a woman who looked like she'd walked off the runway of a haunted tech gala.
White-silver hair, sharp chin-length cut. Combat boots. Hoodie. Lip gloss. Red eyes too bright to be human. And though they weren't visible, Seraphine could feel nine fox tails curling behind her like smug punctuation marks. Oh—and a USB drive hanging from her lips like a toothpick.
"Oh, good," the woman said, bright and casual. "You're awake. You have a cursed tea kettle. Here."
A small pink gift bag was shoved into Seraphine's hands.
"Not a bad curse," the woman added. "Just keeps things unnaturally warm. Also, love the tail. May I come in?"
Seraphine blinked. Coffee was still mid-brew. Her soul hadn't even loaded yet.
"…what."
"Hi. I'm Vixzen. You can call me V."
---
POV: Collective Mayhem
The words "May I come in?" must have hit some predator nerve, because—
Kaiden jolted upright like someone had said "explosives and orgy."
Zaire's eye opened, hand reaching instinctively for where his knife would be.
Theo was already on his feet, stepping behind Seraphine with a subtle hand at her back.
Three apex predators, now staring down the unexpected visitor like she was a glitch in their kill zone.
Vixzen gave them a two-finger wave, unimpressed.
"Oh, good morning, Leather Boy. Tall-Dark-and-Compensating. Stoic McBroadsword."
Kaiden squinted. "How'd you get through security?"
Zaire muttered, "She shouldn't have been able to."
"Relax," Vixzen said, leaning against the doorframe. "I just dropped by to make friends. Or scare you. Whichever's faster."
Seraphine groaned, throwing her hands up. "I just wanted espresso. Now there's a cryptid in my doorway."
"You wound me," Vixzen said, hand to her chest. "I prefer sexily elusive cyber goddess."
---
POV: Seraphine
Back in the kitchen, Seraphine finally pressed her cup against the espresso machine, cradling the holy elixir like a rosary while chaos unfolded behind her.
"So…" she said flatly. "What are you doing here, Miss USB?"
Vixzen twirled the fox-tail drive between her fingers. "Thought you'd figure that out when you opened it."
Seraphine sipped. Tail swish. Then stillness.
"Didn't mean to spook you," Vixzen said, tone softening. "Thought you'd feel better having some data, some answers. You've got three walking contradictions snoring in your living room. You deserved a heads-up."
Kaiden folded his arms. "You spying on us, sweetheart?"
Vixzen winked. "Wouldn't be much of a specialist if I wasn't. And before you get huffy—Elysium knows I'm here. Technically. I'm contracted for 'consulting.' Which means you're not breaking orders, because—" she gestured at herself, "—there's Elysium staff present. Technically."
Theo's jaw tightened. "Still doesn't explain the unvetted data drop to a civilian."
"Civilian?" Vixzen tilted her head. "She's more capable than you three combined. And she owns a tail comb. We bonded."
Zaire's gaze sharpened. "Why?"
"Because it's rare to find comrades with… appetites like mine."
Her eyes met Seraphine's—not threatening, just seeing.
"Thought maybe," she added, "you wouldn't mind company who gets it."
Seraphine stared, reached into the bag, and pulled out a glitter-spouted teapot.
She sipped her espresso. "You can stay. But touch my ducks and you die."
Vixzen grinned. "Deal."
Kaiden still glared. Zaire was tense. Theo's face was unreadable. Vixzen hopped up on the kitchen counter, swinging one leg, flipping the USB between her fingers.
"No offense," Seraphine asked, "but do you all have jobs, or are you professionally nosy?"
"We have work," Zaire said without hesitation. "Her."
"Security work," Theo clarified.
Kaiden smirked. "Flexible hours."
Vixzen waved them off. "Give the girls some privacy, or I'll give you a reason to sprint back to HQ."
"She's not bluffing," Zaire said immediately.
"Wait—why does that sound like a real threat?" Kaiden asked.
"Because it is," Zaire replied, already grabbing his jacket.
"She once deleted a cartel's offshore accounts with a haiku," Theo said, standing.
Kaiden made a dying-bird noise. "Fine. But I'm leaving under protest. Seraphine? If she starts glowing or chanting—call me."
As he passed Vixzen, he leaned close. "If you hurt her, I swear—"
Vixzen ducked dramatically behind Seraphine. "Oh nooo. The big scary man threatened me. Save me, Sera~"
"You're a chaos hacker in combat boots," Seraphine deadpanned.
"Exactly. I bruise emotionally."
They reached the door.
"Take care at work, guys?" she called without thinking.
Silence. They turned—just briefly. She sat on the edge of the island, hair a little messy, coffee in hand, smiling like she meant it.
Like they were normal people. Like they mattered.
---
Zaire POV
Her voice caught me off guard.
"Take care at work, guys."
No one's ever said that to me—not as a partner, not as a friend, not even my commanding officers.
I looked back. The scene was… simple.
Seraphine, sunlight brushing the side of her face. Her smile soft, not sarcastic for once. Just… human-ish.
That image landed somewhere deep in my chest, heavier than I expected.
I'd spent decades moving from mission to mission, never letting a place feel like anything but a staging ground.
This one apartment—her apartment—was starting to feel like something else.
Not love. Not even close.
But I knew I'd fight harder for her than I had for anyone in years.
---
Kaiden POV
I didn't want to leave.
Vixzen was shady. Smart. Probably a bad influence. Definitely not Seraphine.
She was hot, sure—but not like Sera.
Seraphine was curves and chaos and sarcasm and control all wrapped in one unpredictable package.
And Zaire looked like a man possessed, dragging me toward the door.
Then she said it. "Take care at work, guys."
I turned.
There she was, sitting right where I'd seen her last night, sipping coffee, looking like this was just another morning in some weirdly domestic fever dream.
It hit me in a way I didn't want to examine too closely.
Not romance.
More like… a reminder that someone actually gave a damn whether we came back.
Father help me, I wasn't used to that.
---
Theodore POV
I didn't move.
I just kept staring at Vixzen, trying to process her—her voice, her presence, the casual way she dismantled our systems.
She wasn't lying. She really had done this for Seraphine. Somehow.
Still, she was dangerous.
I didn't want to leave Seraphine alone. Not until I understood what this fox wanted. Not until I knew she'd be safe.
Zaire gave the signal. Kaiden tugged my shoulder.
Then—
"Take care at work, guys."
My spine locked.
I looked back.
And for a moment, I wasn't the soldier. The strategist. The weapon.
I was just… a man being reminded that someone wanted him to come back.
No one had ever said that to me without it sounding like a formality.
This time, it felt real.
And that was enough to make me hesitate.
---
POV: Seraphine
The door clicked shut.
Vixzen was already rifling through her own gift bag. "So… do you want to keep the kettle in the kitchen or the summoning circle?"
"Summoning—what?"
"Kidding," she said. "Unless you have one. In which case, dibs on stirring."
Seraphine blinked. "Are you always like this?"
"Depends on blood sugar."
She shook her head and walked back into the kitchen. Her coffee was still warm. The cursed teapot, suspiciously cute, sat like a trophy on the counter.
"Wow," Vixzen said, flopping onto the couch. "You have to teach me your ways, Sera. Can I call you that?"
Seraphine glanced at her. Those crimson-red eyes were not human. "Are those… contacts?"
Vixzen sighed. "They're real. Constant reminder of my suffering. Also, kind of a vibe."
"…Sera's fine."
"Yay!" Vixzen beamed. "We're on nickname stage. That means we're becoming close friends, right?"
Seraphine gave her a look.
Then, softly: "Who are you? And what was with the cryptic message?"
---