POV: Seraphine
Seraphine stirred to the sound of her own cursed television infomercial promising "abs in six minutes or your shame refunded." Her eyes barely cracked open before her tail gave itself away—swishing lazily beneath the sheets, like it had already done its morning yoga.
She blinked slowly.
There was a throw pillow wedged in her doorway. Not from her bed. No, that was from her couch.
Her couch which was currently home to:
Zaire, half-upright against the wall like he'd lost the battle with gravity and refused to surrender entirely.
Kaiden, spread on the rug like a particularly cocky crime scene outline.
Theodore, statuesque in the armchair, arms crossed, chin down—either deeply meditating or charging in sleep mode like some elite combat Roomba.
"...What the actual hell did I adopt?" she muttered, tiptoeing around the makeshift man-pile.
The smell of old pizza and faint sandalwood clung to the air. A sock was somehow hanging from the ceiling fan.
Her place looked like a sentient bachelorette pad had tried and failed to host a boy band reunion.
She ran a hand through her hair, glanced at 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 into the kitchen, stepping over Kaiden's outstretched leg.
"I swear to every infernal duke, if you twitch I will accidentally kick your spleen," she grumbled.
The espresso machine hissed to life. The light blinked red. The caffeine gods were near.
Buzz.
The door intercom buzzed.
Seraphine blinked. "Who—?"
It was 6:17 AM.
She cracked the door open in her pajamas—hair a mess, sleep still thick on her face—and came face-to-face with a woman who looked like she had just stepped off the runway of a haunted tech gala.
White-silver hair, chopped at a rebellious angle. Red eyes too bright to be human. Combat boots. Hoodie. Lip gloss. And nine invisible tails she could practically feel curling behind her like smug question marks. Oh—and a USB in her mouth like a toothpick.
"Oh good," the woman said brightly. "You're awake. You have a cursed tea kettle. Here."
She shoved a small pink gift bag into Seraphine's hands.
"Not a bad curse. Just keeps things unnaturally warm. Also, love the tail. May I come in?"
Seraphine blinked. Her 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 carried on some psychic wi-fi signal, because—
Kaiden jolted up like someone had said "orgy and explosives."
Zaire opened one eye and reached for where his knife should be.
Theodore was instantly alert, standing behind Seraphine with one hand slightly extended toward her back in subtle guard mode.
Three apex predators now stared down the unexpected visitor like a blood-scented glitch in the matrix.
Vixzen waved with two fingers, 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, waving a hand. "I just dropped by to make friends. Or scare you. Whichever happens first."
Seraphine groaned, throwing her hands up.
"I just wanted espresso. Now there's a cryptid in my doorway."
"You wound me," Vixzen said. "I prefer the term sexily elusive cyber goddess."
---
POV: Seraphine
Back in the kitchen, Seraphine finally managed to press her cup against the machine and receive the holy elixir of hot caffeine. She cradled it like a rosary while chaos unfolded behind her.
"So…" she said, very flatly. "What are you doing here, Miss USB?"
Vixzen gave a toothy grin, flipping the little fox-tail drive between her fingers. "Thought you'd figure that out. You open it?"
Seraphine sipped. Her tail swished once. Then stilled.
Vixzen's smirk softened by a degree. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Thought… you'd feel better having the upper hand. 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 very good at my job if I wasn't, Leather Boy."
Theo stepped forward, jaw tight. "You're unregistered. You breached security. You left unvetted data with 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?"
Vixzen paused. Then quietly said, "Because it's rare to find comrades with… appetites like mine."
Her eyes met Seraphine's — not threatening, not invasive. Just… seen.
"Thought maybe," she added awkwardly, "you wouldn't mind some company who gets it."
Seraphine stared at her.
Then slowly reached into the pink gift bag and pulled out a teapot.
It had glitter on the spout.
The room held its breath.
Seraphine sipped her espresso. "You may stay. But you touch my ducks, you die."
Vixzen beamed. "Deal."
Just as Seraphine took another glorious sip of coffee, her ears perked at a low growl from the corner.
Kaiden was still glaring at Vixzen like she was made of spyware and bad intentions. Zaire was tense beside him. Theo sat back down on the armrest, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Vixzen, meanwhile, casually sat on her kitchen counter, swinging one leg and flipping the USB between her fingers.
"No offense," Seraphine began slowly, "but… do you all have jobs? Or are you professionally nosy?"
"We have work," Zaire muttered.
"We have security work," Theo corrected, voice flatter.
Kaiden crossed his arms. "I work flexible hours."
"Get out," Vixzen grinned. "Give the girls some privacy, or I'll give you a reason to sprint to HQ."
Zaire stiffened immediately. "She's not bluffing."
Kaiden frowned. "Wait—why does that sound like a real threat?"
"Because it is," Zaire replied, already grabbing his jacket.
"I've only ever gotten half a virus from her," Kaiden grumbled.
"She once deleted a drug cartel's offshore accounts with a haiku," Theo said, standing.
Kaiden made a sound like a dying bird. "Fine! Fine. But I'm going under protest. Seraphine? If she starts turning green or chanting—call me."
As he passed Vixzen, he leaned close. "If you hurt her, I swear—"
Vixzen widened her eyes and ducked dramatically behind Seraphine. "Oh nooo. The big scary man threatened me. Save me, Sera~"
Seraphine raised a brow at her. "You're a chaos hacker in combat boots."
"Exactly. I bruise emotionally."
As the guys reached the door, Seraphine awkwardly waved. "Um… take care at work, guys?"
Three pairs of feet stopped moving.
Silence. Like she'd accidentally cast a spell.
They turned. Just briefly.
She was sitting on the edge of the kitchen 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 settled somewhere deep in me.
I'd experienced more feeling in this one apartment than I had in decades.
Is this… is this what people call love?
Hell.
I think I'm in it.
---
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 in one stunning 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 remembered her from last night, sipping coffee, like this was just another morning in a very domestic fever dream.
Father, I thought with full sincerity. I think I've found my mate.
---
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 all 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 watching the woman who might be his future… smiling at him.
No one's ever said that to me. Not like that.
And suddenly…
I didn't want to leave either.
I think I just fell in love.
---
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?"
---