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My stomach keeps cramping, making me on edge as soon as I wake.

Xar is standing by the window, his arms folded, his gaze fixed on the storm outside. There’s a sort of restlessness in him, the tension of someone used to always being in motion. I wonder if the storm makes him feel trapped too, the way it makes the house feel small.

I grumble under my breath as another cramp fires through me, shooting Blaise a filthy look for the mess he’s made of the lounge.

“We’re not trying to intrude, you know,” Xar says, his voice drifting over to me. “But that storm doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon. Roads will be flooded this morning.”

“You’re intruding regardless,” I snap, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth. “Sorry. Slept badly. I really didn’t mean that.”

Xar’s jaw tightens, and Blaise, who’s sprawled across the sofa like he owns the place, raises an eyebrow.

“Charming as ever,” Blaise says with a grin, but his tone is softer than usual. There’s a gentleness beneath the teasing that I don’t know how to process. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling the warmth of shame flood my cheeks. I’m embarrassed by my outburst after all they did for me yesterday and the nice evening we had.

I mean, I feel like they shouldn’t even be here, but what am I supposed to do? Kick them out in this weather?

The heat building beneath my skin doesn’t help. It started in the early hours of the morning – just a faint hum, easy enough to dismiss. But now, it’s spreading, igniting. Making me even more on edge than I previously was.

“Eviana,” Xar says, his voice softer now, his sharp blue eyes watching me with an intensity that seems to see through me. “We can stay out of your way today if you want. I promise.”

There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes my chest tighten, and for a moment, I forget how much I hate the way they make me feel – too exposed, too seen.

“Fine,” I mutter, climbing out of the nest I fell asleep in and turning on my heel. “But you stay in here. Don’t wander around, please.”

It’s no surprise that Blaise doesn’t listen.

Half an hour later, I find him in the kitchen, poking through the jars and tins Grams left behind. I mean, obviously, things have been replaced since she died, but I still use all her old storage containers and things. Besides, the woman had so many supplies she could have been a Doomsday prepper. When I didmy first initial clear out, I found tins that wereeightyears out of date.

“You don’t waste time, do you?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe, crossing my arms.

He looks up, holding up a tin of biscuits like it’s a trophy. “What can I say? Storms make me hungry. Want one?”

“No,” I say sharply, but his grin doesn’t falter.

“You’re awfully tense for someone tucked away in the middle of nowhere. Thought this was meant to be the good life or some shit,” Blaise observes, popping a biscuit into his mouth. “What’s a little distraction going to hurt?”

I hate how easily he gets under my skin, how his voice makes me want to snap and laugh all at once.

“Distraction is the last thing I need,” I mutter, snatching the tin from his hand and closing it with a snap. There’s no way I can paint with them here, or make music, and that has my stomach twisting in knots.

He raises an eyebrow at me, a playful glint in his eyes. “Come on, honeybee, lighten up. We’re stuck here for the foreseeable, might as well enjoy it.”

I shake my head, though there’s no real heat behind it. I can’t be bothered to argue with him. Today I just don’t have the energy. And anyway, Blaise’s teasing is so persistent, it almost feels like it’s meant to comfort me. And damn it, it’s working.

Later, as the wind howls louder, I retreat to the sitting room, unable to avoid them entirely. Xar is standing by the window once again, watching the storm, while Dane sits quietly in the corner, flipping through one of Grams’s old books. Blaise’s presence hums like a constant, insistent melody, stretchingacross the room and pulling my attention even when I try to ignore him.

“Do you think it’s safe to go outside?” I ask.

Dane looks up, brows raised. “Why?”

“I thought I’d better check on the chickens.”

“Oh, they’re fine. I checked on them and gave them some more food this morning while you were still sleeping.”

That’s…really kind actually. My cheeks heat as I struggle with wanting to protest and the manners Grams drilled into my rising to the surface.

“…Thank you.”