The faint rumble of Viktor’s car engine hummed beneath him as he turned onto the street leading to the address you had texted. The steering wheel creaked under the pressure of his grip, his knuckles pale against the dim glow of the dashboard lights. He didn’t even know why he’d agreed to come. Scratch that, he did know. You had been annoyingly persistent, leaving voicemail after voicemail, insisting that this time would be different.

“Family.” The word left a bitter taste in his mouth as he muttered it under his breath. What kind of family always managed to leave things worse than they found them?

The truth was, Viktor hadn’t planned on answering the phone when you called.

“Great,” Viktor muttered, killing the engine. He sat there for a moment, staring at the house through the windshield.

His jaw clenched as memories bubbled to the surface—arguments that escalated into shouting matches, accidental uses of powers that left walls cracked and relationships even more fractured. The last time all seven of them were in the same room, the world had almost ended. Again.

But as he neared the house, something made him pause. That prickling sensation, like he was being watched. His eyes darted around the parking lot, scanning the shadows cast by dim streetlights. And then he saw you.

You were standing a few feet away, partially obscured by the shadow of a tall oak tree. Viktor stopped in his tracks, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Seriously?” His voice cut through the quiet like a blade. He took a few deliberate steps toward you, his irritation palpable. “You couldn’t even wait inside like a normal person?”

Your expression gave nothing away, and that only made his frustration grow. Viktor gestured toward the house with a sharp motion of his hand. “What, you decided to call me out here and then creep around in the dark? What is this, some kind of joke?”