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Boaz handed him a hydration pack with a taciturn chin jerk.

Xander nodded his thanks, nabbed it, and sipped the icy liquid with a sigh.

He then fell back onto the sand with the others as they caught their breath.

He shielded his eyes with his arm, allowing the faux sunlight to penetrate his bones, lost in thought.

They weren’t just Signet’s elite, they were the soul of it.

Like him, each had been shaped by fire, betrayal, confinement, and blood, and their code of conduct thus far remained simple:Brotherhood and survival first, women and family later.

The Apocalypse had demanded it.

Yet as Signet grew and the pack shifted from sheer existence to guaranteed safety, Xander noted more moments of yearning among his men.

From the long stares of wistful longing at the few children onboard the Sombra, to the brooding,fokk,the brooding.

It was clear they now desired more than victory and security drills.

They craved partners, soul mates, and lovers, and he couldn’t blame them for yearning.

They had no soft woman to go home to.

Xander sensed their growing restlessness, each craving a woman’s connection, family, and maybe even kids.

The loneliness was getting to them.

He sensed it too, buried deep beneath the armored shell he built out of duty and vengeance.

Now Xander took an inhale. Wondering how thefokkhe was going to make that fantasy, given their forbidden status, a reality.

How was he going to create a life for himself and his brothers that might one day mean happiness for his family, partners, and the next generation of Signet heirs?

Santi sat up on the mat. ‘Fokk, that water looks good.’

‘Let’s do this,’ Xander growled, leading the charge to strip his shorts off.

With whistles and chuckles, his kin followed suit.

Sweat still dripped off their skin as they tugged off boxers and training pants until they hit the beach naked, unceremoniously and unbothered.

One by one, they waded in, muscles slick with sweat.

The water reflected the azure of the firmament above, silken cold against their raw, burning limbs.

Birds chirped above the trees.

The artificial sky bled into twilight, violet streaks rippling through plasma-filtered clouds.

Xander swam hard to the centre of the lake, then back again to the shallows, where he let himself sink neck-deep, closed his eyes, and breathed.

For a moment, he pretended he was on a beach in the old Country, in Melilla, the charming seaside town of his birth, now only a distant memory.

Hishermanosfelt the same, given the groans of pleasure that carried over the waves.

Later, they returned to shore, shaking droplets from their hair and toweling off.

They pulled back on their sweatpants and shorts, leaving their shirts off, for the evening was warm.