Chapter Sixty-Four
The table was alive with the clink of spoons against bread bowls and the low hum of conversation. Steam curled up from the chili, rich and fragrant, mingling with the scent of Elena’s fresh-baked rolls.
Riven was the first to break the comfortable rhythm. He leaned back slightly, spoon in hand, and asked, “Where did we get this chili?”
Lucien, ever the analyst, took another slow bite before adding, “It doesn’t taste like anything from a can. Or store-bought. It’s… different.”
Kael and Molly didn’t comment — they were too busy eating, heads bent over their bowls like they were in a race.
Auron, however, set his spoon down long enough to declare, “This is the best chili I’ve ever had.”
Across the table, Elena, Mark, and Remy exchanged knowing smiles. Mark and Elena had long known Avery’s love for cooking, and Remy had overheard the easy chatter between her and Elena in the kitchen earlier.
Avery, cheeks faintly pink, shrugged. “I made it. From scratch.”
For a heartbeat, the table went utterly silent.
Then — chaos.
Lucien and Kael spoke over each other:
“Where has she been all our lives?”
“You’ve been holding out on us!”
Molly giggled into her spoon. “I’ve already had her cooking. You’re all just catching up.”
Riven pointed his spoon at her, eyes bright. “You’re teaching me. No arguments.”
Auron just beamed, pride radiating from him like sunlight.
Elena and Mark shared a glance before Elena said, “From the time she was little, she was always in the kitchen with me. At first, she just watched. Then she started following my recipes.”
Mark’s smile deepened. “And eventually, she stopped following them and started creating her own masterpieces.”
Avery ducked her head, smiling. “I just… enjoy it. Cooking helps me think. Helps me focus my mind when everything else feels too big.”
The conversation flowed easily after that — teasing, praise, and the occasional exaggerated groan from Kael or Lucien as they realized how much they’d been missing. The chili bowls emptied quickly, but the warmth in the room had nothing to do with the food.
It was the kind of dinner that felt like it could last forever.
Dinner had faded into the soft clatter of dishes and the hum of contentment. The cabin was warm, the fire crackling low in the hearth, and the scent of cinnamon and spice still lingered in the air.
Avery curled into the corner of the couch with a blanket draped over her legs, her bowl of sweet rolls untouched beside her. Riven sat across from her, legs stretched out, while Auron leaned against the armrest, a tablet in hand displaying her training schedule.
“We want to keep building on what we started two months ago,” Auron said, scrolling through the calendar. “Your stamina’s improved, and your reflexes are sharper. But we need to push further now — speed, precision, and control.”
Riven nodded. “Especially control. You’ve got raw power, but it’s like a storm. Beautiful, but unpredictable.”
Avery tilted her head. “Should I be working with Remy and her team more? To try and activate my powers faster?”
Before either of them could answer, Remy stepped into the room, her presence calm and grounding. She’d clearly been listening from the hallway.
“You don’t need to rush activation,” she said gently. “It’s already happening.”
Avery blinked. “It is?”
Remy smiled. “All five of you will be having an extra class starting next week. The bond between you is deepening — and with that, your powers will begin to shift. You’ll each start showing new abilities, different from what you’ve trained for. The more you connect, the more you’ll evolve.”
Lucien, Kael, and Molly had drifted in from the kitchen, catching the tail end of the conversation. Molly raised an eyebrow. “So we’re going to start mutating?”
Remy chuckled. “Not mutating. Harmonizing. You’re becoming a unit. That means learning what you can do individually — and what you can do together.”
Avery sat back, absorbing the weight of it. Her fingers brushed the edge of the blanket, grounding herself. “So we train. Not just to fight, but to understand each other.”
Remy nodded. “Exactly. Power without connection is chaos. But power with trust? That’s legacy.”
Avery woke to the soft hush of the forest outside the cabin — birdsong threading through the trees, the distant rustle of wind in the leaves, and the faint creak of wood settling beneath the weight of time. It was the kind of morning that wrapped around her like a blanket.
Unfortunately, two things disrupted the peace.
First: she really needed to pee.
Second: she was thoroughly pinned.
Riven’s arms were locked around her chest, one hand curled possessively against her ribs. Kael’s legs were tangled with hers, his foot hooked behind her ankle like he’d claimed her in his sleep. Lucien and Molly were still tucked on the far side of the bed, breathing slow and deep, lost in dreams.
They’d all been up late — tangled in laughter, warmth, and each other — and Avery didn’t want to disturb that peace.
She began the slow, painstaking process of escape.
First, she shifted her hips just enough to slide one leg free from Kael’s. He murmured something unintelligible but didn’t stir. Next, she gently peeled Riven’s arm away from her chest, inch by inch, until she could roll toward the edge of the bed.
Just as she was about to stand, Riven made a low, sleepy noise — half sigh, half growl — and shifted. Avery froze, breath held, watching his brow furrow and then smooth again as he settled back into sleep.
She exhaled silently and tiptoed to the bathroom.
The relief was immediate. She leaned against the counter afterward, letting the cool tile ground her, then changed into her running clothes — soft leggings, a fitted tank, and her favorite trail shoes. Her hair went up in a quick braid, and she splashed water on her face, the chill waking her fully.
Running was her ritual. Her reset. No matter how tangled life became, the morning run was hers alone — a rhythm that cleared her mind and reminded her of who she was beneath everything else.
She stepped out into the early light, the forest greeting her like an old friend.