Chapter 48 - Chef’s kiss

The Goodwins' family home was unusually quiet for once. The tension in the air was thick as Matt, Wyatt, and Sean huddled over a table covered in maps, charts, and hastily scribbled notes. They'd been strategizing for hours, exhaustion evident in their furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. Matt traced a finger across one of the maps, murmuring something about possible demon strongholds, when the sound of footsteps filled the room.

Before anyone could react, a flash of light—bright, blinding, and warm—suddenly erupted in the center of the room. The light vanished just as quickly as it appeared, leaving four figures standing awkwardly amidst the chaos of the family's living room.

Anastasia. Rose. Zython. Elijah.

Matt's hand froze mid-air, his jaw dropping. His wide eyes darted between the newcomers, and without thinking, he snatched up a walkie-talkie from the table. His thumb pressed the button so hard it might've cracked, his voice coming out in a rushed, breathless whisper. "Billy. Get here. Now."

Wyatt, meanwhile, stared at the group like he'd just seen a ghost—or maybe four. His shock melted into fury as his eyes landed squarely on Anastasia. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his voice rising loud enough to rattle the walls. "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" he bellowed, veins bulging in his neck. "Do you have ANY IDEA what you put us through? We thought we lost you. AGAIN."

Anastasia flinched, guilt flashing across her face, but before she could answer, Zython casually stepped to the side, whistling as if he hadn't just teleported into enemy territory. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and legs stretched out lazily, his crimson eyes scanning the room admiring the newly renovated room.

"You've redone the place," he mused. "Really digging the... rustic bunker vibe. And those curtains? Chef's kiss."

Wyatt's glare shifted from Anastasia to Zython, his expression hardening even more—if that were possible. But before he could open his mouth, Elijah groaned loudly, stumbling forward and clutching his side. "Excuse me," he muttered dryly, "I need to sit down before you all kill each other. Do your thing. Don't mind me." He dropped unceremoniously into one of the chairs, wincing as he adjusted himself.

Wyatt's anger flickered into confusion as he stared at Elijah, his brows furrowed. "Who the hell is—"

Matt, however, didn't hesitate. His gaze locked onto Zython, his hand darting to the gun holstered at his side. The moment it was out, the safety was off, and the barrel was trained squarely on Zython's chest. "You," he growled.

As if on cue, Wyatt finally pieced it together. His eyes narrowed dangerously at Zython, and he pulled out his weapon as well. The two men shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the room. "WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING HERE?!"

Rose stepped in quickly, hands raised in a desperate attempt to defuse the situation. "Wait! Stop! He's not—he's not here to fight! Just listen—"

"Not here to fight?" Wyatt barked, his voice dripping with disbelief. "He's a goddamn demon! Have you lost your mind?"

"Wyatt," Anastasia cut in, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Put the gun down. Both of you. Please."

Matt didn't move. "After everything he's done?"

"I know exactly what he has done," Anastasia snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut through steel. "And if you'd let me explain, you'd understand why he's here."

The tension in the room was suffocating, everyone frozen in a deadly standoff. And then, as if the universe had impeccable comedic timing, Billy burst into the room. He skidded to a stop, his eyes landing on Rose—and all the air seemed to leave his lungs.

"Rose?" His voice cracked, thick with emotion. He rushed forward, practically tripping over himself, and wrapped her in a hug so tight it was a wonder she could breathe. "You're okay. Oh, thank God, you're okay."

Rose hugged him back, her own eyes welling up with tears. "I'm fine, Billy. We're fine."

Billy pulled back just enough to look at her, his face a mixture of relief and anger. "We haven't heard from you in weeks. Do you have any idea what that's done to me? To all of us?"

Rose smiled softly, wiping a tear from his cheek. "I'm sorry. Really. But we're here now."

The tender moment was enough to ease some of the tension in the room. Matt lowered his gun—slightly—but didn't holster it. Wyatt, on the other hand, kept his weapon aimed, his gaze still locked on Zython like he was seconds away from pulling the trigger.

Anastasia took a deep breath and stepped forward, her hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Let me explain," she said, her voice steady but firm. "I know this looks... bad. But Zython and Elijah saved our lives. Gabriel tried to kill me, and they stepped in. If it weren't for them, Rose and I wouldn't be standing here right now."

Wyatt's grip on his gun tightened. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"It's the truth," Anastasia insisted. "I wouldn't lie to you about this."

There was a long, heavy silence. Then, begrudgingly, Wyatt lowered his weapon. He didn't put it away, though. "Fine. I'll listen. But I'm not trusting that demon as far as I can throw him."

Zython, who had been remarkably silent up until now, smirked. "Oh, come on, Wyatt. After all we've been through? That hurts. You were almost my daddy-in-law."

Wyatt glared at him, but before he could retort, Anastasia launched into her story. She told them everything—Every detail, about her child being wanted by both sides, right down to how Zython and Elijah had risked their lives to protect her and Rose. They did leave out how they were kidnapped by Elijah and Zython to keep the peace. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air.

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, what now?"

Anastasia straightened her shoulders, determination flashing in her eyes. "Now? We need a team."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. "A team?"

"Yes," Anastasia said firmly. "We're going to find a way into the Celestial City."