The other is younger. Mid-twenties. Honey-blonde hair tied back. Curvy. She’s holding something wrapped in foil, arms cradling it like a peace offering, or a warning. Hard to tell.
They don’t knock again.
The man waits, still as stone.
The woman smiles at the door like she’s trying to coax it open with good intentions alone.
I hesitate.
No part of me wants to open the door for him.
But her?
She’s got the kind of energy that melts tension. Like warmth in human form.
I crack the door.
“Hey,” she says, smile growing. “You must be Ava.”
I nod slowly.
“I’m Sage.” She jerks her chin toward the man behind her. “That’s Havoc.”
He doesn’t react. Just stands there like he’s already judged the whole forest, the cabin, and maybe me too.
“We brought cake.”
I blink. “What?”
She lifts the plate slightly. “Havoc baked. I supervised.”
I glance at him. Then her. Then back again. “He baked?”
He grunts. One sound. Enough said.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Sage grins. “You don’t have to. Viper knows we came. We’re here to check on you, bring sugar, and maybe talk a little.”
I shouldn’t open the door any wider. I do anyway.
Sage steps inside like we’re already friends. Havoc follows slower, scanning the cabin as he moves. He plants himself near the fireplace, arms crossed, eyes everywhere.
Sage sets the plate on the counter and peels back the foil. The scent hits fast. Brown sugar. Cinnamon. Something rich and warm that makes the cabin feel a little less temporary. A little more like safety.
She cuts me a slice without asking and hands it over on a paper plate.
I take a bite and almost groan. It’s too good.
Sage smirks. “Yeah. My man can bake. I taught him.”
I glance between them.
There’s something in the air when they’re near each other. Unspoken. Solid.
Like the world pulls quieter around them.
Sage brushes his arm when she passes, barely a touch. Light, familiar.
