Chapter 18 – The Knife, The Spell, and The Couch War

Aeron awoke the next morning to an unfamiliar sound.

Silence.

No sword clashes. No spell detonations. No peacock judgment.

He sat up warily, pulling his hoodie over his head and sniffing the air. No burning. No perfume. Just… peace.

Suspicious peace.

He tiptoed to the door and cracked it open—only to flinch as a pillow whomped against the wall inches from his head.

"NO, I get the left side of the couch!" Lyra screamed from the hallway.

Selene stood at the other end, holding a kitchen knife—not threateningly, but as if she'd been slicing apples and then got emotionally provoked. "Your side is the annoying flailing side. I'm not getting kicked in the ribs again."

Aeron blinked. "You're… fighting over the couch?"

Two heads whipped around like feral cats caught in the pantry.

Selene coughed, lowering the knife. "Training break. Couch logistics are essential for team cohesion."

Lyra nodded, smiling. "Totally normal. Good morning, cuddle-bug."

"Please never call me that again," Aeron said, rubbing his face. "Why don't you just share it?"

Selene stared like he'd suggested arson at a royal ball. "Share?"

"With her?" Lyra added, aghast. "She hogs blankets like they're sacred relics."

"Because you nest like a hurricane with legs!"

Aeron backed slowly into his room. "Y'know what? I'll just… sit on the floor like a humble unclaimed snack."

Selene's eyes flashed. Lyra's grin widened.

Both answered at once: "You're not unclaimed."

Aeron's soul briefly left his body.

---

Later – Training Grounds (Yes, Again)

Today's training involved magical traps, enchanted knives, and a talking training dummy named Garf, who kept calling Aeron "squishy buns."

"Focus," Selene ordered, arms crossed as she adjusted his stance.

"But Garf keeps calling me food names!"

Lyra laughed. "You do kinda give off pastry vibes."

"I'm not a danish," Aeron snapped, swinging the blade.

Garf ducked. "Try again, twinkle toes."

Selene rolled her eyes. "You're letting your scent fluctuate. Keep it neutral or it'll trigger the defense runes again."

"Easy for you to say," Aeron muttered. "Your scent doesn't scream 'come bite me' at strangers."

Lyra snorted. "Well… hers kind of does. Just in a stabby way."

Garf interrupted, "Less flirting, more slashing!"

Selene promptly decapitated the dummy.

"Rude," Garf's head muttered from the ground.

Aeron exhaled. "That thing haunts my dreams."

Selene looked at him thoughtfully. "You're improving. Coordination's sharper."

Lyra nodded. "You only tripped over your own feet once today."

"That was a dodge roll!"

"It was a trip with commitment," she replied, grinning.

---

Afternoon – Valtoris Library

Aeron curled up in the oversized reading chair with a book titled "Omegas and the Seven Legal Ways to Survive Courtship". Chapter Four was titled "Run."

Selene sat across from him, pretending not to stare every time his hair caught the light. Lyra lay on the rug with a bag of enchanted popcorn that popped itself.

"Is it weird that I kinda like this now?" Aeron asked aloud.

Selene looked up. "What, being the center of constant chaos?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's terrifying. And confusing. And I regularly consider fake dating the peacock just for safety—"

Squawk.

"—but also… I have weirdly nice hair now, and people care if I sleep well."

Lyra tossed a popcorn kernel at him. "That's because you're hot now."

"I was always hot," Aeron argued.

"No, you were a bookworm in cargo pants with zero clue. Now you're a magical Omega with sparkly blood and drama-face. Upgrade achieved."

Selene tilted her head. "I liked him better when he didn't know he was cute."

"I'm sitting right here."

"We know," they said in unison.

---

Evening – The Great Couch Peace Treaty

After another twenty minutes of diplomatic negotiations involving three cushions, one hand-drawn treaty map, and a ceremonial bag of pretzels, Aeron watched as Selene and Lyra settled onto the couch on opposite ends.

He sat cross-legged on the floor.

Selene frowned. "Why aren't you sitting up here?"

"Because I enjoy having intact organs?"

Lyra threw a blanket over him anyway.

"You're the Omega. You get couch rights," she said.

"Is that a law?"

"It is now," Selene murmured, sliding a pillow under his head. "Sleep, velvet boy. We'll keep watch."

"Over what?"

Selene's expression darkened. "The next Alpha who tries to sniff you without permission."

"And if they do?" Aeron asked.

"Explosives," Lyra answered without hesitation.

"Also fire," Selene added.

Aeron smiled faintly. "You're both terrifying. But… thanks."

"You're welcome, fluffy prince," Lyra replied, already drifting off.

Selene simply said nothing, but her hand rested lightly over his for a moment longer than necessary.

---

Final Scene – The Windowsill

The peacock sat, silhouetted by moonlight, watching the trio on the couch.

It blinked once, then twice.

Then nodded solemnly.

This Omega had survived another day.

But the war of the couch was just beginning.