Wyatt was the first to close the gap, then came Matt, Sean, and Billy, all of them crowding around a visibly shaken Anastasia. Wyatt pulled her into a bear hug, practically squeezing the breath out of her, relief pouring out in that tight embrace.
"Uh, someone wanna tell me why you all look like you just walked out of a horror movie?" Anastasia's voice wavered as she tried to hold it together, but the blood splattered across their clothes and the sickening metallic smell hit her like a freight train. The guards behind them were drenched in it. "Seriously, what the hell happened? Tell me before I lose it!"
"Chill, Sis. We're fine," Matt said, sliding into a hug as Wyatt let go. Sean held onto her a little longer, guilt radiating off him. After their last blow-up, Matt had explained on the plane that Bailey sent the message to Jenny, not her. "I'm so sorry, Ana," Sean mumbled against her shoulder.
"Yeah, well, sorry isn't an explanation. Someone better start talking!" Anastasia snapped, her eyes darting between them.
Billy, still hugging Bastian, finally turned to her. As he pulled her into a hug, his voice dropped, sending a shiver down her spine. "When we got to the pier, a car tailed us…"
"Wait, seriously? You didn't check for a tail? That's, like, basic survival 101," Anastasia retorted, incredulous.
"They kept a distance, we didn't pick it up," Billy admitted, his tone dark.
Matt and Sean looked at Bastian for what seemed like several moments. Now that they knew who 'Warren' was, they felt very emotional and suddenly they rushed up to Bastian at the same time and embraced him. At first, Bastian was confused but he held them back as he considered them as brothers while he was still human.
Matt had to come up with an excuse for their emotional embrace so as they let go of Bastian, he said, "Warren, thanks for saving our sister, again."
"It was my pleasure guys. So, whose blood is this? Is anyone hurt?" Bastian asked, his voice tight.
"Not us," Wyatt said, his voice grave. "But two of our guards weren't so lucky. They got slaughtered right in front of us. We had to fight off four demons—real nasty ones. We barely made it out alive." He paused, a shadow passing over his face. "We're being hunted. I think there's a bounty on our heads, especially after I killed one of them."
Anastasia's jaw dropped. "You… you killed a demon? What the… Dad… I don't get it…"
Wyatt exchanged a look with Bastian, too exhausted to go into detail. "We'll fill you in once we've had some rest."
Anastasia's gaze swept over them, taking in the blood, the weariness etched into their faces. "You all must be dead on your feet… Get cleaned up. We'll talk later."
Wyatt gave her a weary smile. "Thanks, Ana. We were just focused on getting back here, making sure you were safe. Cleaning up wasn't exactly top priority."
Matt squeezed her hand. "We just needed to be together, to know we were all okay. We'll deal with the rest later."
Billy nodded. "It wasn't about the blood. It was about surviving. About getting back to you."
Sean's voice was barely a whisper. "We're still trying to process it all. Right now, being here with you is what matters."
Anastasia's heart softened. They needed comfort, not questions. "I'm just glad you're all home," she whispered, pulling them into a family hug, holding on a little tighter than usual.
Afterward, they all went to clean up and rest. The guards retreated to their quarters, rotating with the rangers to secure the property. Billy crashed next to Rose, who was still asleep, while Anastasia and Bastian headed to the kitchen to throw together some dinner.
The kitchen, usually calm and orderly, was now a whirlwind of activity. Bastian expertly chopped vegetables with his sleeves rolled up, while Anastasia pondered over which pot to use in the cabinet.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Bastian teased, smirking as he watched her juggle utensils.
"Of course I do!" Anastasia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder with mock indignation. "I just… can't decide if we're doing spaghetti or linguine."
Bastian chuckled, eyes lingering on her. "Big decision. The fate of dinner hangs in the balance."
"Oh, shut up," she retorted, seizing the spaghetti. His stare made her spine tingle with excitement. Oh, just to mention, the tomatoes you destroyed were meant to be chopped not demolished."
Bastian raised an eyebrow, holding up a misshapen piece of tomato. He stepped closer, voice dropping a notch. "Hey, I'm just giving the dish some rustic charm."
"Rustic charm? If that's what you call it, we're in serious trouble!" Anastasia laughed, but there was a catch in her breath as she stirred the sauce. The space became heavy with a tension neither of them acknowledged.
They continued bantering, the kitchen alive with sizzling, chopping, and bursts of laughter. But every now and then, their hands brushed reaching for the same utensil, or Bastian's arm grazed her side as he moved around her. Each accidental touch sent a spark through both of them, the tension simmering beneath the surface.
At one point, Bastian flicked a piece of diced pepper at her, hitting her square on the nose.
"Hey!" Anastasia exclaimed, narrowing her eyes. "You're gonna regret that."
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, throw flour at me?" Bastian taunted, his voice dipping into a playful murmur as he leaned in closer, close enough for her to catch the scent of his cologne.
Anastasia grinned, sensing her heartbeat speeding up. She took a spoonful of tomato sauce and made eye contact with him. "Something like that," she replied, then rubbed a bit on his cheek.
Bastian's eyes became darker, showing a dangerous glint in them while he wiped the sauce off. Growling, he exclaimed, "Oh, it's on now," as he grabbed some flour and playfully sprinkled it over her head while she laughed and dodged.
"Warren!" Anastasia shrieked, her laughter bubbling up despite herself. She grabbed some flour in retaliation, but a patch of spilled sauce made her slip right into Bastian's arms.
For a moment, they froze, the playful atmosphere evaporating. Anastasia found herself pressed against Bastian's chest, his arms holding her steady, and their faces just inches apart. Her breath hitched, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with nearly falling.
Bastian's grip tightened slightly, his eyes locked onto hers. Everything else—the kitchen, the cooking—faded away as they stood there, the tension crackling between them.
"Careful," Bastian murmured, his voice low and rough. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt."
"Right," Anastasia whispered, barely able to find her voice. Her gaze flicked to his lips for a split second before she pulled back, breaking the spell. "Thanks."
"Anytime," Bastian replied, his tone lightening as he let her go, though his eyes still smouldered.
They both returned to cooking, but the playful energy from before now had an undercurrent of something deeper, something charged. While collaborating, the kitchen became filled with the delicious scent of the food they were making. Bastian, responsible for the garlic bread, exaggeratedly mimicked a French accent while spreading butter on each slice.
"Mademoiselle Anastasia, zis bread will be magnifique!" he declared, presenting the tray like a masterpiece.
Anastasia played along, holding up her salad bowl with a flourish, though her smile had a hint of the tension from earlier. "And zis salad, monsieur, will be the pièce de résistance!"
They both burst out laughing, the silliness a welcome break after everything that had happened, though the undercurrent between them still buzzed beneath the surface.
As they finished up, setting the table, Anastasia couldn't help but notice how their earlier antics had left them in high spirits. The kitchen, now a bit of a mess, was filled with the warmth of their laughter and the scent of dinner.
Just before they called everyone to eat, Bastian leaned in, speaking softly and suggestively. "We make a pretty good team, don't you think?"
Anastasia's heart raced with excitement and she grinned up at him. "Yes, we do," she responded, the undeniable electricity between them.