Limitless Evolution As a Snake

I let the silence sit for a second before I say the next part, because this part matters more.

"Cherry’s still back there. Hana and the others will keep her safe till we get back, but I want to move. I want both of you somewhere I know is solid ground, not somewhere with cracks I can’t see."

Lyra nods against me, slow, like her body’s still catching up to her brain.

"When we get back," I say, "we act normal, no reason to overexplain, no details. If anyone asks about the glass, about the mess, you just smile and say we were busy together. That’s it, you know, young love, horny idiots, broken furniture. They’ll buy it because they want to buy it."

She lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh, wet and crooked at the edges. "You want me to lie for you."

"I want you to lie with me," I correct, smooth as I can manage, even though my chest still feels like it’s been turned inside out. "There’s a difference."

She doesn’t answer, just presses her face back into my scales, breathing slow, steady, like she’s trying to remind her body what safe feels like.

I hold her there a while longer, coils tight, wings still folded useless against my back, and somewhere under all that comfort my mind’s already running names and faces of people who need to pay for tonight.

Old Mate is staying quiet, doesn’t crack a joke, doesn’t even hum his usual dumb elevator music in the back of my skull. Smart koala, for once. Some moments don’t need commentary.

I just need her to breathe steady, need to feel her heartbeat slow down against my scales, need proof that whatever I’ve turned into hasn’t scared away the only two people dumb enough to still want me.

Revenge can wait one more minute.

Okay, minute’s up.

I unfold my fins and give them a test flap, and something in my head just clicks, like a switch got flipped somewhere between getting my human deleted and coming back from it. I know how to fly now. Don’t ask me how, don’t ask me why, I just do. Old Mate stays quiet on that one too, which is honestly the scariest part.

"Get on," I tell Lyra, lowering my upper body so she’s got an easy climb. "Hold onto the ridge on my back, right behind my head. It’s gonna be smooth, I promise."

She climbs on slow, careful, hands finding the raised plates along my spine like she’s done this a hundred times even though she hasn’t. Her grip is tight but not scared-tight; she just trusts me.

I push off the ground, and my fins catch air like they’ve been doing this my whole life. No wobble, no panic, just clean lift and forward glide, smoke trailing off my scales in thin ribbons behind us.

The city lights blur under us for a few seconds, and then the warehouse roof comes up fast, and I bank smooth through the same busted window we left through, wings tucking in tight at the last second so we don’t clip the frame. We touch down in the office soft, no scrape, no jarring slide, and the first thing I see is Raymond’s face doing a full system crash.

"Wha’ in the actual hell," he says, except it comes out slurred because the man’s already three drinks past coherent, glass still in his hand, eyes going wide and unfocused all at once. "Is that- Matthew? What happened to you two?"

I don’t answer him. I just don’t really feel like it right now.

Lyra slides off my back, steady on her feet, and together we just glide through the office like nothing’s wrong, like we didn’t just come back from something that should’ve killed one of us. I catch Channel’s eyes across the room and give her a small nod, a smile that doesn’t reach anywhere close to warm.

Her mouth opens, closes, then opens again, kind of like a fish.

"B-b-b-utt?" is all that comes out, and it’s honestly kind of funny watching her professional mask crack right down the middle like that.

"Oh hey, Channel," I say, casual as anything, like I didn’t just fly through a window as a giant smoke serpent. "You working on the new project?"

She swallows hard, nods fast, doesn’t trust her own voice enough to try words again.

Hansen and Harden are both staring at her like they’re waiting for the script, like she’s supposed to have the answers and clearly doesn’t. Good, let them sit in that.

Then Cherry bounces up from the couch, horn stumps

twitching, eyes still half-glazed with sleep. "Hey!!! Matt??? What happened? You look wei-"

Lyra cuts in fast with a soft "shh," finger to her lips, and Cherry just blinks and nods, sitting back down without finishing the sentence, though her eyes stay locked on me the whole way, tracking every inch like she’s trying to memorise what’s different.

I glance over at Raymond one more time, but he’s already gone, head back, glass tipping dangerously in his loose fingers, out cold before he can ask anything else.

Hana catches my eye from her spot by the door. Doesn’t say a word. Just nods once, slow, and steps aside to clear the path toward the car that’ll take us to the penthouse.

That’s all the permission I need.

————————

Once we get to the penthouse, it doesn’t feel like home anymore, not after tonight. I coil just inside the doorway for a second, taking in the place.

Can’t stay somewhere that’s already been mapped by someone who wants me dead, nah fuck me, wants my girls dead.

"Pack light," I say, already moving toward the closet. "We’re not coming back to this one."

Cherry’s up off the couch fast, horn stumps twitching double time. "Wait, what, we’re leaving? Like leaving, leaving? But this is—I thought this was our place, I just got the closet organised and everything and I-"

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