Morning light spilled through the kitchen windows, warm on the worn counters. Yve stepped in quietly, cradling a basket of silver-scaled fish. Tiny beads of water clung to her hair.
Elena turned from the stove, smiling. "We'll be dining like kings today," she said, wiping her hands on a towel.
Yve set the basket down. Her voice was soft, curious. "Caught a few large ones… the rest are small."
Elena shook her head. "That's fine. Feeding us is more than enough."
The door creaked. Mia strode in, expression sour. "Urgh. Fish again?"
Yve's eyes met hers, calm but sharp.
Mia grabbed a cup and drank, sneering. "Feel like I'm gonna grow slimy scales at this point."
Yve's voice was smooth, edged. "Or you could just starve to death."
Mia rolled her eyes and drank again, dismissive.
Elena frowned. "Uh… Mia, the water's rationed. You're drinking too much."
Mia lowered the cup slowly, still smirking. "We'd have more if it weren't for that huge fish over there."
Yve froze for a beat, then dropped the basket and left.
Elena sighed, turning back to the fish. "Just… don't drink it all."
Mia scoffed. "Don't tell me what to do. I'm still thirsty."
The kitchen door swung open. Taylor stepped in, wiping sweat from her brow. "Fire's ready."
Elena nodded, grabbed the basket, and followed her outside.
Yve was already by the grill, leaning over as Dylan stacked dry wood and brittle leaves inside the pit. Smoke curled lazily upward, catching the sunlight. A coal slipped from the pile and rolled near Yve. She reached for it without thinking, curious, but hissed when the heat bit her skin.
She pulled her hand back fast, cheeks puffing in frustration, and wiped her face with the back of her wrist. The charcoal smeared across her skin, leaving a dark streak on her cheek.
Dylan glanced up, one brow lifting, and smirked a little, trying not to laugh.
Yve narrowed her eyes. "What?"
He shook his head, lips twitching. "Nothin'. You got dirt on your forehead."
Yve swiped at it with her palm, smearing the charcoal across her forehead. "How 'bout now?"
Dylan breathed out heavy, still fighting the grin, and shook his head again.
"Why are you making that face?" she asked, tilting her head.
He shrugged, voice low and rough. "Just happy. Slept good last night."
Before Yve could answer, Elena and Taylor walked up with the basket. Both froze for a beat when they saw Yve's face—black smudges streaked across it like war paint. Elena's lips twitched, and Taylor pressed her mouth shut, pretending to focus on the fish.
Elena held out the basket, voice steady but eyes glimmering with suppressed laughter. "Here… I haven't gutted it yet."
Yve nodded, oblivious. "Oh, alright. I'll help you…"
Elena cleared her throat, forcing her tone back to normal. "We shouldn't cook this all right now. Save a few for later."
Yve nodded again, soft and agreeable. "Okay."
The heavy clang of the gate echoed across the yard. Lucas strode in first, flanked by David and Maurice, boots caked in mud. Behind them, Esteban swung the gate shut with a grunt.
Between Lucas and David, a thrashing shape dragged against the ropes—an adult shrieker, limbs bound tight, teeth ripped clean from its jaws. The thing twisted and snarled, high-pitched sounds scraping the air.
Taylor froze mid-step, jaw dropping. Then she bolted toward Lucas, voice sharp and trembling. "What the hell, Lucas? What's this?"
Lucas raised a hand, calm but firm. "Calm down… I know what I'm doin'."
Taylor's eyes burned. "Why would you bring a live shrieker in here? You do remember these monsters almost killed your son, right?"
Lucas didn't flinch. "I know. But… Dr. Jenkins says he needs one for an experiment."
Taylor stared at him, disbelief cracking her voice. "Can't he experiment on it dead?"
The shrieker thrashed harder, ropes creaking under the strain, blood slick along its ruined gums.
Taylor jabbed a finger at it. "Your son is here. You're being reckless."
Lucas squared his shoulders, voice heavy with certainty. "I'm not. This thing ain't gettin' loose."
Taylor stepped closer, voice low and lethal. "You're not thinking straight. You let that thing anywhere near Tyler and I swear I'll kill you myself."
She spun on her heel and stormed back toward the mansion, fury trailing behind her.
David watched her go, then looked at Lucas, shaking his head slow. "Told you this was a bad idea."
Lucas shot him a glare. "Shut up."
Taylor shoved the door shut behind her, the slam cracking through the quiet hall. Jenkins flinched, his pen jerking across the clipboard as he looked up.
Taylor's finger shot out like a blade. "Why the hell would you ask for a live shrieker? The kids are here."
Jenkins blinked and adjusted his glasses, voice calm but clipped. "It'll be locked and bound tight. Don't worry."
Taylor let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I don't care. I'm not risking it."
Jenkins straightened, tone measured, almost clinical. "I understand you're worried, but calm down—"
Taylor cut him off, her voice cracking with fury. "Calm down? You want me to calm down? My son almost died because of those monsters. And you brought a live one into the same place the kids sleep."
Jenkins held her stare, jaw tight, voice steady. "Taylor, I need it alive for the experiment. I can't continue theorizing from degraded tissue and microscopic blood samples alone."
Taylor's eyes burned. "Whatever. I don't care. You let those monsters anywhere near my son and I swear I'll turn you into one myself."
She spun on her heel and stormed up the stairs, footsteps pounding like gunfire. Jenkins exhaled slowly, adjusted his glasses, and headed outside.
The yard smelled of smoke and blood. Jenkins walked toward the shrieker, its body jerking against the ropes. He leaned in, eyes narrowing behind his lenses. "You took out its teeth."
Lucas stood firm. "Can't risk it."
Jenkins nodded once, voice calm, clinical. "Good. As long as the heart's pumping, dentition is irrelevant."
Yve spoke from behind him, curious and soft. "What are you gonna do to it anyway?"
Jenkins turned, tone precise, almost detached. "I have a hypothesis I intend to test. I'm going to need your blood."
Yve tilted her head, brows knitting. "Well… I don't really get what you're tryin' to do, but okay."
Dylan's voice cut in, low and rough. "Can y'all take it somewhere else? We're grillin'. Thing's stinkin' up the place."
Maurice groaned and dropped onto the grass like dead weight. "Boohoo. What you cryin' about? I'm the one who tackled it so they could tie it up."
He sprawled out, arms wide, shirt soaked in blood and torn flesh. "I smell like a decomposing corpse."
Maurice stared up at the sky. "I'm gonna need three showers and a priest."
Elena crossed her arms, tone firm but quiet. "I'm with Taylor on this one… you're all being reckless."
She shook her head and walked back into the manor without another word.
Lucas exhaled hard and turned to the others. "Come on. Let's strap this beast tight."
Jenkins adjusted his glasses, voice calm and precise. "Yve… standby. I'll need you in the lab in about an hour."
Yve nodded, tone light, almost playful. "K. I won't go anywhere."
The men grunted as they hauled the shrieker toward the side of the manor, ropes creaking under its weight. The old workshop—now Jenkins' lab—loomed ahead.
Meanwhile, Yve sat cross-legged on the grass, sunlight glinting off her damp hair. One by one, she gutted the fish with quick, clean motions—no knives, just the sharp curve of her claws slicing through scales like silk. Each gutted fish she handed to Dylan, who stood by the grill, brushing oil over the flesh before laying it across the sizzling grate.
Smoke curled upward, carrying the scent of salt and char. Dylan broke the quiet, voice low and rough. "You really okay with givin' your blood?"
Yve glanced up, tone light, curious. "Yeah."
Dylan shifted the fish, eyes narrowing. "And that ain't gonna mess you up?"
She paused, thinking, then shrugged. "Honestly? I've never given blood before. I mean, I've had wounds, but never lost too much. Usually it's low energy that always almost kills me."
Dylan's jaw tightened, voice edged with grit. "Don't like it. Now that you don't know what happens if you lose too much, I'm more worried."
Yve smiled faintly, brushing her fingers against the grass. "Relax, Dylan. Pretty sure I'll be fine."
~~~
The dining table was set, though it looked pitiful compared to the room. One kilo of rice barely stretched, and the grilled fish glistened in a tray, golden and steaming, its smell taunting everyone.
Everyone gathered, except Jenkins and Yve, still in the lab. Harrison stood at the head, voice steady but heavy. "Let's ration. Pray this tiny bit keeps us going."
Harlene tried to ease the tension. "Well, at least no canned food. We're finally getting proper nutrients."
Hands moved quietly, each person taking modest portions. The tray grew lighter—until it reached Mia.
She didn't hesitate. One hand snatched the largest fish left, slapping it onto her plate. The tray now held half a fish, barely enough for a single person.
Ava's eyes widened. "Mia… you didn't leave enough for Yve and Jenkins."
Mia looked up, tilting her head, voice dripping with faux innocence. "Oh? There's plenty for Yve in the kitchen."
Elena's brows knitted, voice tight. "You mean the uncooked ones?"
Mia shrugged casually, a smirk playing on her lips. "She'll live."
A tense silence settled over the table, the smallest acts speaking louder than words. Every eye flicked to the tray, to Mia, to what she had just done.
The silence thickened, crawling across the table like smoke. Eyes flicked to her—some glaring, some stunned. Ava's lips pressed into a thin line, her plate untouched.
Mia didn't care. She chewed louder, smirk curling at the corner of her mouth, clearly enjoying the discomfort.
The door creaked as Yve and Jenkins stepped in. Conversations faltered. Dylan pushed back his chair and stood, grabbing a plate. Without a word, he slid the untouched half of his fish onto it and handed it to Yve.
Jenkins sat quietly, plate holding the lonely half-fish Mia had left behind and about four spoonfuls of rice.
Yve blinked at Dylan, noticing. "Uhmm… why are you giving me yours?"
Dylan shrugged, voice low. "It's okay. I'm full."
But his stomach growled loudly. Yve's brows lifted. "No, you're not."
She tilted her head, firm but gentle. "Eat it. I'll just grab one from the tray."
Her eyes flicked to the tray—and froze. Empty. Not a single piece of fish left. The tension thickened like smoke.
"Uhmm…" Her voice was soft, confused. She'd counted the fish earlier. There should've been enough for everyone to get half. Her gaze swept the table, searching faces. No one spoke.
Dylan's jaw tightened. "Just take mine." His tone was sharp, annoyance bleeding through.
Yve shook her head, brows raised in quiet defiance. "Nope. You need food, so eat it. I'll just eat the uncooked one. Always done it that way anyway."
Before Dylan could argue, her look shut him down. He sighed, dropped back into his chair, and pulled the empty seat beside him for her.
His eyes flicked across the table, landing on Mia—happily tearing into her whole fish like nothing was wrong. Dylan's stare hardened, tension radiating off him like heat.
Yve returned from the kitchen carrying three small uncooked fish on a plate. Normally, she'd eat them whole in one go, but the first weeks with Dylan at the dock had taught her table manners. She grabbed a knife and fork, cut the head off the first fish, and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly.
Mia gagged loud enough for everyone to hear. "Eww. Can you be more decent? We're eating here."
Yve's eyes narrowed, teasing annoyance flickering across her calm expression. "I'm being decent… just not boring." She sliced the head off another fish and took a deliberate bite.
Ava's voice snapped across the table. "Will you stop it, Mia? We're fine with it. You're the only one complaining."
Mia leaned back, smirk widening. "Oh please. She's acting like a savage. Can't blame me for pointing it out."
Harrison's tone cut through, low and steady. "Enough, Mia. Eat quietly or don't eat at all."
Mia scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "Somehow I'm the only one left still in control of my own mind."
The knife scraped hard against the plate as Yve stabbed the next fish, the sharp pitch slicing through the room and sending goosebumps up everyone's arms. She lifted the knife, the fish dangling from it, and locked her gaze on Mia as she chewed the whole thing and swallowed without breaking eye contact.
Mia gagged again, pushing her plate away. "You're really a freak. I just lost my appetite."
She stood abruptly, chair legs screeching against the floor, and turned toward the door.
Taylor's voice cut through before she could leave. "Mia… you didn't even finish your food. We're not supposed to waste food."
Mia didn't look back. "I'm getting sick. Eat it if you want."
Taylor started to protest. "But I—"
The door slammed, cutting her off. The sound echoed through the tense silence like a gunshot.
Yve sighed softly and shook her head, letting the tension roll off her shoulders. Harrison cleared his throat, his voice calm but weighted. "I apologize on behalf of Mia, Yve… she's a good kid. I don't know why she's acting like this."
Ava leaned back in her chair, unimpressed. "I do."
Emily turned toward her, brows lifting. "You do?"
Ava nodded once, eyes steady. "She's jealous of Yve."
Emily frowned, skepticism clear. "That sounds petty."
Ava shrugged, unfazed. "That's because it is. She's always been like that. You all just didn't notice."
Harrison shook his head, unwilling. "I don't think so. She's a good kid."
Ava let out a short, humorless laugh. "Dad, please. I lived with her for over five years before you moved us to the city. You visited. You didn't stay."
Elena muttered under her breath, arms crossed. "Jealousy? At a time like this? That's immature."
Harrison sighed, rubbing his temple. "Her mother was kind."
Ava's expression hardened. "Her mother was. Not her. She's always been like this whenever a new girl shows up."
Yve stayed quiet through it all, calmly finishing the last bite of raw fish. She wiped her fingers on a cloth, expression unreadable, then spoke gently. "I'm not the only woman in this group…why is she only hostile to me?"
Ava didn't hesitate. "Clearly 'cause you're getting all the attention from Dylan."
Dylan shifted in his chair, voice low and edged. "She keeps pushing like that, someone's gonna snap. And it won't be Yve."
Yve blinked, her voice soft, genuinely puzzled. "I don't get it."
Ava leaned forward, elbows on the table, tone sharp and unapologetic. "Ain't it obvious? She likes Dylan."
The words hit hard. A cough broke the silence. Whispers rippled down the table, heads turning. Yve went still, fingers tightening around the knife.
Ava swept her gaze across them, unimpressed. "What? Don't tell me I'm the only one who noticed."
From the far end, Lara spoke, calm but edged. "I had my suspicions…"
Yve blinked again, slower this time. Her voice stayed soft, distant. "I knew that."
Ava's mouth curved, just a little. "See?"
Yve tilted her head, genuinely trying to understand. "What I don't get is why she's hostile toward me. Dylan and I aren't together." A pause. "If she wants Dylan… she can just tell him."
Ava's eyes fixed on Yve, her voice cutting clean through the quiet. "Yve. Let me ask you something." A beat. "Is that what your heart actually wants?"
The room stilled.
Even Dylan paused, his hand hovering over his glass. No one spoke. It felt like the walls leaned in.
Yve hesitated. Then she met Ava's gaze. "If she can make Dylan happy…" She searched for the right shape of the thought. "Why wouldn't I want that?"
Something tightened in Dylan's chest—sharp, unwelcome. He didn't move.
Yve went back to eating, slow and careful, as if nothing had shifted. Fork down. Fork up. The silence thickened around her.
Ava exhaled through her nose, shaking her head, muttering something about honesty.
In the lab, Mia moved like she belonged there.
Her fingers skimmed metal trays, nudged instruments just enough to test their balance. Her eyes tracked everything Jenkins had left behind, cataloging, judging.
On the center table lay the shrieker they'd caught earlier—bound tight, ropes biting into its limbs. A gag stuffed its mouth, choking off the worst of the sound, though low, wet noises still leaked through as it twitched.
An IV pole stood beside it, steady and clinical. A bag of blood fed slowly into the creature's veins. Sedated, but not still—its muscles jumped in small, involuntary spasms.
Mia leaned in, close enough to watch the reaction.
Her mouth curved into a small smile. Not fear. Not disgust.
Interest.
Back at the table, Ethan leaned forward, curiosity bright in his eyes. "Uh… Doc… what exactly you need those tools for?"
Jenkins set down his glass, voice calm, deliberate. "I have a hypothesis. If Yve's blood neutralizes the virus, it may also regenerate necrotic tissue. Should that occur, I will require instruments to suture wounds and facilitate tissue repair."
Ethan's brows shot up. A grin flickered. "So… you're saying there's a chance to turn a shrieker back into… human?"
Jenkins inclined his head slightly, steady. "Currently theoretical. I have commenced a transfusion with Yve's blood. The subject is sedated; a full bag is circulating."
Dylan's head snapped up, voice low, clipped. "A whole bag? That's… a lot."
Jenkins remained unflinching. "Yve authorized it."
Dylan's jaw tightened. "Authorization ain't a free pass for abuse."
Yve's hand brushed Dylan's arm, voice soft, quiet. "Dylan… it's okay."
The simple gesture shut him up. Dylan's jaw flexed, but he leaned back in his chair, silent.
Lucas cleared his throat, measured, deliberate. "What's next, Doc? If you're successful?"
Jenkins' eyes gleamed with quiet conviction. "What's next is saving the world. Turning as many shriekers back into humans as possible."
David let out a low whistle, grinning wide. "Damn. This calls for a toast."
He stood, lifting his glass of water high. "To saving the world."
Glasses clinked, voices rising in unison. "To saving the world."
David's grin widened. "And to Yve and Jenkins, making this happen."
Another round of clinks followed, voices warm around the table. "To Yve and Jenkins."
Ethan chuckled, mischievous, raising his glass. "And… to the shrieker tied down that started it all."
Laughter erupted. The tension eased, just a bit. David reached over, ruffling Ethan's hair. "Good one, kid."