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The formal dining room tables have been pushed together and covered with mismatched tablecloths, creating one long family table.

Candles flicker between dishes, casting warm light over faces I've come to love.

Everyone gathers around, finding seats, children squirming with excitement.

Dylan sits beside me, his hand immediately finding my thigh under the table.

To anyone watching, we look like a perfect couple.

They can't see how his fingers dig in whenever someone asks me a question, a reminder to be careful with my words.

"This looks amazing," someone says, and murmurs of agreement ripple around the table.

"Everly helped with all the pies," Aziza announces warmly. "She's got the touch."

"Just followed your instructions," I deflect, uncomfortable with praise.

"Don't be so modest, babe," Dylan says, his hand tightening on my leg. "You're always selling yourself short."

Just as Runes stands to speak, motorcycles rumble outside.

The men are back from their run.

My heart races—what if they found something?

What if this war ends tonight?

Geirolf enters with Fenrir, Emil, and Oskar, all looking exhausted but alive.

The energy in the room shifts with their presence—warriors returning home.

Runes gives his Thanksgiving speech about family and fighting together.

His weathered face shows every battle, every loss, but his voice is strong: "We've lost people we love. We've faced threats to our children, our homes. But look around this room. We're still here. Still fighting, still a family to be reckoned with."

When it comes time to share gratitude, I mumble something about being thankful for family and recovery, the words hollow in my mouth.

How can I be grateful when I'm trapped in this nightmare?

Dylan speaks up next. "I'm grateful for my beautiful girlfriend and for being welcomed into this family." His hand squeezes my thigh hard enough to bruise. "Even during difficult times. It means a lot to be included."

The meal continues, conversations flowing around me while I pick at my food.

Dylan makes small talk, gathering information with seemingly innocent questions.

How long will the lockdown last?

How are the businesses doing?

Is the club financially stable?

Each question is carefully crafted, probing for weaknesses.

I notice Runes paying close attention to every single question Dylan poses.

"Must be tough with everything closed," Dylan says to Dag, acting all sympathetic. "I know some people who might be able to help with cash flow if needed."

"We take care of our own," Dag responds curtly, and I feel Dylan tense beside me.