Friday evening came too quickly.
Ithilien had barely noticed the week passing. Days blurred into lectures, notes, short patrols and even shorter conversations, everything reduced to a rhythm that required just enough attention to function and nothing more. It worked. It kept her moving forward without forcing her to stop and think.
She was sitting at the table in the kitchen, notes spread in front of her, pen moving steadily across the page, when the knock came.
Sharp.
Confident.
Too familiar to ignore.
She didn't get up immediately.
For a moment, she just stared at the door, as if considering whether pretending not to be home would actually solve anything.
The second knock came louder.
More insistent.
Ithilien exhaled quietly, pushed her chair back and walked over, already knowing exactly who she would find on the other side.
Colton didn't even wait for her to speak.
"Byra sent us," he said the moment the door opened, flashing her a grin that was entirely too pleased with itself. "She says we're supposed to bring you over for dinner. And you're staying the night."
Ithilien leaned her shoulder lightly against the frame, unimpressed.
"That doesn't sound optional."
"It's not," Carter added from behind him, his tone calmer but no less firm. "We were given orders."
She let out a quiet breath, glancing past them as if hoping for a third option to appear out of nowhere.
"I have things to do."
"Yeah," Colton said easily, stepping half a pace closer. "And tonight, those things include not isolating yourself in your house like some tragic main character."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'm not—"
"Don't," Carter cut in gently, raising a hand before she could finish. "Just… don't make this harder than it needs to be."
There was no pressure in his voice.
No force.
Just something steady.
Honest.
"Hayati won't let us live if we come back without you," he added after a moment, softer now.
That—
that did it.
Ithilien held their gaze for a second longer, then shook her head faintly, a trace of reluctant acceptance slipping through her otherwise controlled expression.
"Fine," she said. "Give me five minutes."
Colton grinned wider.
"See? That wasn't so hard."
She shut the door in his face.
The drive to Levi and Byra's house felt longer than it should have.
Not because of distance.
Because of anticipation.
Ithilien hadn't been there since everything happened, hadn't sat in a room full of them without the weight of patrols or plans pressing in from all sides. This was different. Too normal. Too close to something she wasn't sure she still knew how to handle.
When they pulled up, the lights were already on.
Voices carried faintly from inside.
Laughter.
She hesitated for half a second before opening the door.
The warmth hit her immediately. So did the noise.
The house was full.
Levi stood near the kitchen, talking to Zane, while Byra moved between them with the kind of ease that made the space feel alive. Crystal leaned against the counter, glass in hand, Thiago and Zeke sprawled across the couch like they had claimed it hours ago and had no intention of giving it up.
And Kidd—
He was there too.
Leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze lifting the moment she stepped inside.
It lingered.
Just a second longer than necessary.
Then moved on.
"Finally," Byra said, crossing the room before Ithilien could even fully take in the scene. "I was starting to think they'd lost you on the way."
"They almost did," Ithilien replied dryly.
"That would have been tragic," Levi muttered.
Before she could answer, the door behind her opened again.
Christian stepped in, shaking rain from his jacket.
And he wasn't alone.
"This is Flynn," he said, gesturing toward the guy beside him. "He's new."
Flynn looked… normal.
Tall, lean, dark hair slightly damp from the rain, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and hesitation as his gaze moved across the room.
Then it landed on Ithilien. And stayed there.
"Well," he said after a second, a faint smile forming, "now I see why no one told me what I was walking into."
Carter groaned.
"Don't."
"What?" Flynn asked innocently, though his eyes didn't leave Ithilien. "I'm just making an observation."
"You're making a mistake," Carter corrected.
The room laughed. Ithilien raised a brow slightly.
"Bold," she said, taking a step further inside.
Flynn's smile widened just a fraction.
"I try."
"Try somewhere else," Carter muttered, already stepping between them.
"Relax," Flynn said. "I'm not a threat."
"That's exactly what someone who is a threat would say," Zeke called from the couch.
Even Ithilien felt something loosen, just slightly, at the edges.
Dinner was loud.
Chaotic in the way it always was when the entire pack gathered in one place, voices overlapping, jokes thrown across the table, food passed around without anyone really paying attention to who asked for what.
Flynn asked questions—too many at first, then fewer as he realized he was walking into something bigger than he had expected. The conversation shifted naturally, from small things to training, to territory, to the things that mattered more. Eventually to Fenrir.
Zane leaned back slightly, his tone shifting as he spoke.
"It's been quiet," he said. "Too quiet."
Kidd nodded once.
"That's the problem."
Flynn's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
"You mean… it's still out there?"
No one answered immediately.
Thiago leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.
"It doesn't just disappear," he said. "Stuff like that? It waits."
Zeke added, more lightly, "Or it gets worse."
Flynn didn't laugh.
He swallowed instead, his fingers tightening slightly around his glass.
"That's… reassuring."
"It's not supposed to be," Levi said.
The conversation moved on.
But the tension stayed.
Byra didn't let Ithilien sit with it for long.
"Come on," she said, already pulling her toward the kitchen. "You look like you need wine."
"I don't—"
"You do."
Crystal was already there, pouring.
Ithilien didn't argue.
The first glass went down too easily.
The second even more so.
By the third, the edge of everything had softened just enough to make breathing easier, just enough to let the noise of the house settle into something less overwhelming.
"You've been holding it in," Crystal said quietly, watching her over the rim of her glass.
"I've been functioning," Ithilien corrected.
"That's not the same thing."
Ithilien didn't answer.
She just drank.
By the time the night settled, the house had quieted.
Not completely.
But enough.
People drifted into their usual places, conversations fading into something softer, slower. Ithilien didn't remember deciding to stay in the living room, but she ended up on the couch anyway, her body sinking into the cushions as exhaustion finally caught up with her.
The wine didn't help.
Or maybe it did.
Because for the first time in days—
her mind stopped.
She fell asleep without realizing it.
The storm woke her.
Not gently.
Lightning tore across the sky, followed by thunder that rolled through the house like something alive, low and heavy, settling deep under her skin. Ithilien stirred with a quiet intake of breath, disoriented for a moment before the room came back into focus.
Then the next thunderclap hit.
Closer.
She pushed herself up slowly, brushing a hand over her face as she sat on the edge of the couch, her pulse still uneven from the abrupt wake.
A movement across from her.
Kidd.
He was already watching her.
Not fully asleep.
Not even close.
"You're awake," he said quietly, his voice rougher than before.
She nodded once, glancing toward the window as another flash of lightning illuminated the room for a brief second.
"The storm."
"Yeah."
Silence settled between them, but it wasn't empty. It stretched, filled with something heavier, something that had been building all evening, now sharpened by the dark and the quiet and the way neither of them looked away.
Ithilien stood.
She didn't think about it.
Didn't plan it.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up, closing the distance between them until she stood directly in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.
Kidd didn't move.
Didn't ask.
But something in his posture changed, a tension coiling beneath the surface as his gaze lifted to meet hers.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The storm filled the space instead, thunder rumbling low, the air charged and heavy.
Then his hand found her waist.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Not pulling.
Just there.
Ithilien inhaled softly, her breath catching as the contact settled into something far more dangerous than it should have been. Her fingers hovered for a fraction of a second before resting against his shoulder, the muscle beneath her palm tightening instantly at her touch.
"Stay," he said, quieter now.