Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

The house is quiet now. Plates have been cleared. Boots kicked off. Most of the resistance is tucked into corners, couches, borrowed rooms. The fire in the living room is down to a glow, casting amber shadows across the walls. I should sleep, but I don’t. I linger in the hall outside my room, her room now, if only for a little while. My fingers hover near the doorframe, knuckles brushing the wood like it might burn me if I press too hard. She’s in there. In my space. In my shirt…and gods, I am not strong enough for this. The door creaks softly as I nudge it open. She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, her damp hair combed out now and hanging over one shoulder, the silver-starred blanket draped over her legs. The room smells like cedar and cinnamon and the faintest whiff of her magic, moonlight and wildflowers and ozone. She looks up as I enter and she doesn’t tell me to leave. That’s… probably all the permission I’m going to get. I close the door behind me and move to the edge of the

The training field is sun-warmed and buzzing with energy. It’s nothing fancy, just a packed-dirt clearing near the hellhound housing quarters, surrounded by jagged black stone and the occasional patch of dry grass, but to us, it might as well be a palace courtyard. After months of hiding in forests, fighting in ruins, and sleeping under magically camouflaged trees, this is luxury. Our group is loose and laughing, a handful of us stretching, others already circling up for sparring. Nick’s barefoot, conjuring little flames between his fingers like a magician showing off at a party. Jordan is talking shit to a hellhound almost twice his size, pointing at the practice blades like he’s already won. I’m sitting on the edge of a boulder, pulling my hair up into a messy knot, when I catch the first look. A hellhound, young, maybe my age, watching us from the edge of the field. Not with distrust but with curiosity. It’s happening more and more. Every time we laugh. Every time we spar with each

I shouldn’t be here. That thought hums under my skin, even as the fire crackles in front of me and warmth radiates from both sides of my body. Dylan’s laughter still lingers in the air like something sweet, and Kai hasn’t stopped watching me, not in a possessive way, but in a way that says you matter. I should be running. Pushing them back. Guarding what’s left of the soft parts inside me. Instead, I’m here. Sitting between them on a blanket under the stars, firelight kissing my knees, and for once, I’m not preparing to fight. I’m just… existing and fuck, it’s terrifying.But when Dylan leans against my side, his shoulder brushing mine, I don’t pull away. When Kai shifts slightly closer, resting one hand behind me like a quiet tether, I don’t flinch. Their presence is grounding, like I’m a tethered balloon that’s finally stopped tugging against the string.I swallow thickly and whisper, “I don’t know how to do this.”Dylan’s head tilts toward me. “Do what?”“This.” I gesture vaguely t

The fire’s burning low now, casting soft golden light over the tangle of limbs and blankets. Dylan breathes slow and steady against my shoulder; his hand still wrapped around mine over my chest. Kai lies behind me, propped slightly on one elbow, his fingers tracing lazy shapes down my spine. None of us speak at first. The silence is full but not heavy. Sacred. I close my eyes and let myself be. No running, no masks, no resistance plans, just the quiet rhythm of their bodies around mine, the steady thud of their hearts syncing with mine like a lullaby. Kai breaks the silence first.“Something’s different,” he says quietly. His fingers still on my back. “I felt it when you… when you came with Dylan.”My breath hitches, but I don’t move. “Different how?”He shifts closer, brushing a kiss to my shoulder blade. “Like the bond clicked into place. Fully. Like I could feel both of you at once. Emotions, breath, everything. But that’s not supposed to happen unless…”He trails off, as if the th

LayahThe air is light and happy, exactly how it should be right now. Nanna’s still sparkling with flour, Dylan’s fingers trail glitter, and the tiny illusionary unicorn prances on the kitchen counter like it owns the place. For one fleeting moment, it’s perfect. That is, until Matt walks in. He freezes just inside the door, staring at the unicorn with the haunted look of a man who's seen some shit.“Fuck. Not this again!” he groans, slapping a hand over his eyes like it might shield him from magical trauma. “I still have nightmares about the unicorn from the last time.”We all burst out laughing.“It’s not like the last time,” I say, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t worry, this one’s just an illusion.”“An illusion that likes to play flour tricks,” Nanna mutters, still dusting powder from her silver curls. “I swear to the gods, if it shits rainbows on my good table...”“What’s that?” Kai interrupts, pointing to the paper in Matt’s hand.Matt hesitates. “Uh... yeah. This came for you