Elias slid out of the truck slower, his eyes scanning the fence lines, the road, the gullies—a human radar adjusting after hours on static.

He tipped his head toward the house, listening to the way the wind moved through it, trying to hear if there were any threats inside.

When no alarms tripped behind his eyes, he nodded to himself, which counted for reassurance in this idea of new normal.

Alexei drifted to the hood and dropped a canvas canteen onto the hot metal. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

His breath steadied, his attention narrowing not outward but inward.

Frost bloomed under his palm, like a delicate feather, racing across steel in a white film that wasn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination.

He peeled his hand away and the frost laced the canteen like veins in marble; the canvas went brittle with cold. He unscrewed the cap and tipped the mouth to the air.

Snow whispered inside in a soft tumble.

"Sorry," he grunted, looking at Sera. His voice carried the tone of a man who wasn’t used to apologizing for anything. "Still working on water and not ice."

The cap twisted back on. He set the canteen in the sun to defrost a bit. "This should melt it quickly enough."

Sera’s mouth curved up in a bright smile. Her face looked younger than she actually was, so much so that she looked innocent of the horrors around her.

"It’s perfect," she replied. "I prefer a lot of ice in my water."

Her fingers tapped the lid once like a thank-you translated into touch. Alexei’s gaze flicked to her hand and away, a flash of private relief disguised as indifference.

Zubair walked the perimeter because as much as he had just agreed to a new normal, some habits were just impossible to ignore.

He studied where the fence posts leaned, but they leaned the same direction. The windmill threw a slow, lazy blade. There were no tracks cut the drive newer than dust.

He found the rest of his team in the yard by instinct: Sera was near the light with Luci’s shadow close enough to touch. Elias had his back to a wall, and Alexei stood where he could watch everything without looking like he was watching anything.

Even Lachlan was between Sera and what could possibly be the nearest bad idea.

And Zubair, he put himself where he always did...between all of them and whatever changed first.

Sera climbed onto the porch and paused like she’d arrived at a toy she’d never had. After hearing her words in the truck before, Zubair studied the look on her face as she stroked the wooden boards that were so rough, he was worried abut splinters.

The corseted military top hugged her like it had been made for her body. The skirt—black, heavy, and brushing the boards in wet weight—dragged when she moved.

She grimaced down at it, her mouth twitching for just a moment as she thumbed a brass button, and the fabric surrendered like a curtain cut loose.

The front panel of her skirt hit the porch in a sodden slap.

A long, uncompromising line of black leather ran from her hips to her boots where the skirt used to be.

The back part stayed—long, and dramatic, like a half-skirt or tail.

It moved when she turned; it created a presence when she walked.

Even the air around her seemed to notice, much less the men who orbited her.

Lachlan let out a low appreciative noise that might have been a whistle if he’d been dumber. "Uniform violation." His grin flashed. "I approve. Keep it up."

Sera flicked the stripped panel at his chest. He caught it and clutched it with theatrical gratitude. "Souvenir."

"Wash it," Elias groaned. "Or burn it."

Zubair stepped up behind her and lifted the remaining hem with two fingers, checking how much drag would cost her if the day shifted from peaceful to dangerous.

Her balance leaned into the brief lift without thinking, her trust in him so casual it read as pure acceptance.

He let the fabric fall and smoothed a thumb over the stiff edge of the corset where it met her skin. There was no blisters from the poisonous slime. No bruises from something so constrictive.

No where on or around her was proof that she had spent the night ankle-deep in poison.

He breathed easier.

Alexei flipped his pocketknife open and went to work on a stained length of toweling he’d scavenged off the porch rail.

He sliced it into clean strips around the ruined parts and set the good cloth in Sera’s reach without looking at her. It was as if he thought that if he didn’t say anything, no one could prove that he was the one who did it.

She took one, dampened it with a bit of melted snow, and scrubbed the streak of dried green from her cheek.

Zubair’s hand rose on instinct.

He steadied her jaw with the lightest part of his fingertips and wiped the last stubborn smear from the corner of her mouth, his thumb careful at the curve of her lip.

Her eyes lifted for a beat to look at him, pitch black and amused. She pretended that this was the new normal, and he pretended that his pulse didn’t skip a beat.

Elias cracked a bottle of water and glared at it like it had insulted him. "I don’t know if we need to ration or not, but with Alexei here, I don’t think we are going to run out of water any time soon."

He passed the bottle to Sera with a concerned look on his face. "I haven’t seen you drinking anything lately. You should drink first."

She took it from him, tipped it back and swallowed daintily. She knew where he was coming from, but she didn’t feel thirsty.

It was almost like if it wasn’t hunger, her body was muted to almost all other cues of survival.

Thirst wasn’t a thing, not sleeping or sleeping didn’t matter to her, her muscles didn’t hurt, and she didn’t really feel like she ever had to use the washroom.

Humming her appreciation to his consideration she flicked her fingers.

Chocolate appeared from her space and she broke the bar into multiple pieces. Then, she went to each one of the guys and gave them a piece.

Lachlan’s went straight into his mouth with maybe a moan he would deny.

Alexei’s sat in his palm for a full second like it might be a bomb before vanishing in one clean bite.

Elias seemed to "forget" his, then rediscovered it with practiced look of surprise, already eating it by the time anyone else had noticed.

And Zubair tucked his square in a cheek and let it melt slow, a taste so good, it hurt.