The bedroom door creaked open as I pushed it with my shoulder, every inch of my body protesting the movement. Exhaustion hung over me like a heavy fog—muscles burned from the relentless rhythm we'd kept up, skin slick with dried sweat, heart still thudding unevenly in my chest. Miko leaned heavily against my side, her arm looped around my waist for support, cat tail drooping limply behind her like it had run out of energy too. Her black cat ears were flattened against her damp hair, and her golden eyes were half-lidded, hazy with the afterglow of what we'd just done. We'd started slow that morning, her straddling my lap on the bed, rolling her hips in lazy circles while I gripped her thighs. But it escalated fast—her claws raking down my back as I flipped her onto all fours, pounding into her from behind with deep, forceful thrusts that made the headboard thump against the wall. She'd come twice like that, arching her back and muffling her cries into the pillow. Then she'd pushed me down, climbed on top reverse-cowgirl, her tail curling possessively around my wrist as she bounced hard and fast, grinding until I spilled inside her with a guttural groan. We'd switched again for a slower round, face-to-face, her legs wrapped tight around my waist, nails digging into my shoulders as we rocked together until collapse finally claimed us both. Now, in our rumpled sweats and twisted tank tops, we shuffled down the hallway like survivors of a storm, bare feet padding softly on the cool hardwood floor.
The living room came into view, midday sunlight pouring through the half-open blinds in bright, dusty beams that danced across the scattered remnants of yesterday's wedding gifts—crumpled envelopes, a few stray ribbons, and the faint scent of fresh euros still lingering in the air. I blinked hard, trying to shake off the haze, and then we both froze mid-step.
Akira was perched on the edge of the couch, her black cat ears perked high with a mix of fatigue and quiet triumph, her travel-worn duffel bag slumped at her feet like a defeated enemy. She held Caz and Ava in her lap, the twins curled against her chest—Ava babbling softly to herself, tiny fingers twisting Akira's shirt, while Caz stared wide-eyed at the room. But it was the woman beside Akira that hit like a punch to the gut: mid-forties, maybe, with the same sleek black cat ears and tail as Miko and Akira, though hers were streaked with subtle grays that spoke of years on the run. Her golden eyes were sharp, guarded, framed by faint crow's feet and a weariness that went bone-deep. She wore simple jeans and a faded hoodie, tail tucked close to her body in a defensive curl. Lilly. No doubt about it—the family resemblance was etched in every line of her face, from the high cheekbones to the subtle flick of her ears.
Miko's grip on my waist tightened, her claws pricking through my shirt just enough to sting. Her voice sliced through the air, cold and unyielding, like ice cracking underfoot. "What is she doing here?"
Akira's ears flicked once, a subtle tell of nerves, but her smile didn't waver. "I found her. In a dingy safehouse on the outskirts of Vienna. She was laying low, but I tracked her down through some old contacts. Brought her back. Like I said I would in the note."
Miko's tail lashed sharply behind her, whipping the air with a soft whoosh, her golden eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "Why? We agreed—me, you, him—we all agreed to leave it alone. She left us. She chose to run."
Lilly shifted on the couch, her tail uncurling slightly as she rubbed her temples with weathered hands, the faint scars on her knuckles catching the light. "I… I asked her to bring me. It's time. Time to stop running, to face what I left behind."
Miko's ears pinned flat against her skull, a low growl rumbling in her throat. "Time for what? Forgiveness? A happy reunion? Why are people looking for you? Hunters? Collectors? The kind that chain hybrids like us and sell us off?"
Lilly exhaled slowly, her shoulders sagging under the weight of whatever secrets she carried. She glanced at the twins, then back at Miko, voice quiet but steady. "I've done a few things I shouldn't have over the years. Back when I was younger, angrier… I got involved in an activist group. We were fighting for hybrid rights—organizing protests, smuggling families across borders when the laws turned ugly, lobbying for equal treatment in places where we were still seen as property."
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the doorframe for support, my legs still shaky from the bedroom exertions. "Okay, that's not exactly a hanging offense. Activism's protected in most of Europe now—free speech, assembly rights. Hell, half the hybrids in this town have marched for something. So what's the real reason? Why the chase? Why the shadows following us?"
Lilly met my gaze for a long moment, her golden eyes flickering with regret, then looked away toward the window, where the sunlight glinted off parked cars outside. "Even though I'm old now, worn down by the miles… the group wasn't just about peaceful activism. It evolved—or devolved—into something more extreme. Authorities labeled us a terrorist cell. I was deeply involved in an incident in Switzerland—a fire we set on New Year's Eve, years ago. Targeted a government outpost that was cracking down on hybrid registrations. Thought it'd spark change, make a bold statement."
Miko stared at her mother like she'd just confessed to being an alien, her mouth slightly agape, ears still pinned in utter disbelief. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the words had sucked out all the oxygen. "You're crazy," Miko whispered, voice laced with shock and a hint of betrayal. "A fire? On New Year's? People could have died. Hybrids, humans—innocents caught in the crossfire."
Lilly nodded slowly, her tail curling tighter around her legs, a self-protective gesture that made her look smaller, more vulnerable. "No one did, thank whatever gods watch over fools like me. But it was reckless. Dangerous. And yeah, mostly my idea—a stupid, hot-headed plan born from too much rage and not enough sense. Now there are people looking: Interpol agents, old rivals from the group who turned informant, maybe even some government holdouts with long memories. I've been running ever since, staying one step ahead."
The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, broken only by Ava's soft babbling and Caz's quiet shifting in Akira's lap. Akira held the twins closer, her own tail wrapping protectively around their small bodies, her expression a mix of defiance and worry. Caz stared at Lilly with those wide, unblinking golden eyes, like he was piecing together a puzzle; Ava buried her face deeper into Akira's shirt, tiny ears twitching at the tension in the air.
Before anyone could break the standoff—before Miko could unleash the storm brewing in her eyes—a heavy knock echoed through the front door, three solid thumps that vibrated the walls.
I pushed off the doorframe, legs steadier now. "I'll get it. Stay here."
On the stoop stood Boris, his massive frame filling the doorway, beard split in a wide, oblivious grin. He held a six-pack of beer in one meaty hand, the bottles clinking softly. "Здравей, братле! Дойдох да видя как сте след сватбата. Има ли още от онова ракия? А, и Елена ми каза да донеса това—за 'похмел'!" (Hello, brother! Came to see how you are after the wedding. Got any of that rakia left? Oh, and Elena told me to bring this—for the 'hangover'!)
He didn't wait for a reply—just barreled inside with his usual booming energy, switching to rapid-fire Bulgarian as he kicked off his boots. I caught fragments—something about honeymoon plans, a joke about wedding night stamina—but my brain was too fried to translate fully. He headed straight for the living room, plopping down onto the couch with a heavy thud that made the cushions sink.
"Седни, седни! Разкажи ми за медения месец планове. Аз имам идеи—Банско, сняг, ракия!" (Sit, sit! Tell me about honeymoon plans. I have ideas—Bansko, snow, rakia!)
Lilly went rigid the instant Boris sat down, her black cat ears flattening against her skull, tail stiffening like a board. Her golden eyes darted to the door, then to the windows, body shifting subtly away from him—an inch here, a lean there—as if proximity alone set her nerves on fire. Uncomfortable didn't begin to describe it; she looked downright nervous, fingers twitching in her lap, breath shallow.
I exchanged a quick, loaded glance with Miko, her expression mirroring my confusion. What the hell was going on now? The room, already thick with secrets, felt like it was about to ignite.