The fire crackled in the heart of the Sanctum, its blue-green flames dancing in sync with the strange magic that seemed to hum through the very stones of the ancient place. A circle had formed in the hearth room—pillows and plush chairs pulled close, mugs of something hot in everyone's hands. Even Nova, tucked securely into Marcus's lap and wearing a knitted onesie that Kai had dubbed "Fuzzy Doom Armor," seemed curious about the stranger in their midst.
Luna, lounging with the grace of a queen in exile, tossed her hair back dramatically. The tips shimmered electric blue in the firelight. "Alright, spill it," she said, taking a long sip of her drink. "How in the flaming pits of Tartarus did you end up in this cursed man-cave of a Sanctum, raising a toddler and looking like a supernatural romance novel threw up on you all?"
Kai snorted, nearly spilling his cocoa. "She's still got it," he muttered.
Marcus scowled. "We were ambushed by fate."
