And the award for 'Most Awkward Family Reunion' goes to...
"Alright, alright." I slide between them like I'm breaking up a bar fight. "Brax, really? Can't you pick a face or something? You're scaring the residents."
Brax gives me the demonic equivalent of a 'bitch, please' look before his form shimmers and ripples. The massive black demon melts away, replaced by—
Of fucking course.
Captain America stands in my living room, complete with the Boy Scout smile and perfect hair. My internal Marvel fanboy weeps tears of betrayal.
I roll my eyes so hard I practically see my own brain. A violent shudder runs through me at the memory of hearing—
Nope. Not going there. That's a trauma for another therapy session.
This asshole has officially ruined Cap for me. I'll never watch Avengers again without thinking of demonic Pop-Tart farts.
"What. The. Hell?" Dani enunciates each word like she's trying to make sense of our circus.
Welcome home, firecracker. I hope you brought popcorn because this show's just getting started.
"Well, if it isn't the Avengers finally assembling," I drawl, remembering Emily's magical SOS text that feels like it was sent sometime during the Jurassic period. "Don't worry, we handled our own 'save the world' mission while you were gone. No infinity stones required."
Though our version involved significantly more demon cosplay and accidental vampirism. Details, details.
"Meet Brax," I gesture toward Not-Steve-Rogers now lounging on my Italian leather couch like he owns the place. The sulfur stench is finally clearing. "He's our resident demon shapeshifter with an unfortunate Marvel fetish. We've got a lot to catch up on."
"No fucking shit." Rhyland's growl could make a grizzly bear piss itself. His massive frame practically vibrates with protective Alpha energy as he eyes Brax. "A damn demon?"
Down, boy. Your Viking is showing.
Before I can explain our resident demon's hard-on for Chris Evans, Seraphina launches herself at Dani like a heat-seeking missile of celestial joy. Their reunion hug looks like something straight out of a Hallmark movie—if Hallmark did supernatural rom-coms.
"Dani! You're back! You're safe!" Her voice is pure sunshine and rainbow sprinkles as she practically lifts Dani off the ground.
"Seraphina, are you okay?" Dani's voice carries equal parts worry and 'I-will-murder-whoever-hurt-you' energy. "Emily's note—"
"She's fine," I interject, puffing up like a peacock. Because yeah, I totally saved my angel's perfectly sculpted ass. "Though the story involves a demon, some accidental vamp—
"Shower, food, and drinks first before I even consider having this conversation," Dani interrupts, returning Seraphina's hug before extracting herself—her eyebrow arches. "And make that drink a double. Something tells me I'm going to need it."
Oh, honey. If you think this is weird, wait until you hear about the baby vampire with bubblegum hair upstairs.
"Fair enough," I concede.
My eyes zero in on Erik and his new appendage—a blonde who looks like she just walked straight off the set of the Vikings TV show where everyone's covered in mud and leather and shouting about Valhalla. She's got the whole "shield-maiden who could gut you with a rusty spoon while reciting Norse poetry" vibe down pat.
Well, well, well. What do we have here?
The girl's rocking some unique peepers—heterochromia that would make a cat jealous—and Erik's got that 'touch-her-and-die' posture going on. Mr. Stoic practically broadcasts 'MINE' in neon letters above his head.
Someone's been busy. And here I thought Erik's only relationship was with his sword collection.
"So," I drawl, eyeing the way Erik's practically melded himself to Viking Barbie's side. "Did I miss the memo about us collecting historically accurate arm candy, or...?"
Because watching Erik play the protective mate is like seeing Nick Fury crack a smile—rare and slightly terrifying.
"Like I said, shower, food, and drinks first." Dani's tone carries the weight of someone surviving on medieval protein bars and whatever passes for road snacks in Viking-land.
"Cool. I'll get Rosa on it," I offer, already planning something Mexican. "Do you have any particular cravings, Princess?"
