Warm.
That was the first thing I felt.
Not heat—
not the painful, frantic kind—
but something gentler.
A warmth that came from bodies close, breathing steady, scents mingling softly in the early morning light.
For a long time, I didn't move.
A slow inhale drifted into my lungs.
It tasted of cedar, citrus, musk—
three scents braided together with mine, softer now, calmer.
I blinked my eyes open slowly.
Sunlight slipped through the narrow blinds, painting pale gold across the cot, across the blanket tangled around my legs, across three boys sleeping around me like a protective ring.
My cheek rested against Horace's chest—
the rise and fall of his breathing steady, deep, peaceful in a way I had never seen from him.
His arm was wrapped firmly around my waist, holding me as if someone might take me away if he loosened even a fraction.
Rowan was curled against my other side.
His head rested on my shoulder;
his hair tickled my neck;
one of his legs had somehow tangled with mine during the night.
His hand—small, warm—rested over my ribs, rising gently with each breath I took.
And behind Rowan—
Chandler.
His long legs stretched across half the cot, one arm draped over both Rowan and me.
His hand rested lightly on my hip, fingers curved in a protective, unconscious grip.
He looked different like this—
softer, unguarded, almost boyish in the early light.
Lucian, curled in a chair near the door, had fallen asleep sitting up, data pad on his lap.
Even he looked younger.
Less brittle.
Less sharp.
For a moment—
the world felt still.
Warm
and quiet
and safe.
My breath trembled.
I hadn't known this feeling in years.
HORACE WAKES FIRST
I shifted slightly.
It wasn't much—
just a tiny adjustment so my arm stopped tingling—
but Horace felt it instantly.
His body tensed beneath me.
And then—
his eyes opened.
Bleary.
Unfocused for a moment.
Then—
clear.
He looked down at me, and something broke through his sleep-dazed expression—
relief so deep it hit me like a warm wave.
"Elleanore…?"
His voice was rough, thick with sleep.
He brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers.
"You're awake."
I nodded, my throat tight.
"How… how long have you been holding me?"
He exhaled softly, thumb brushing my cheekbone.
"Since last night."
His gaze drifted over my face as if memorizing every detail.
"Did you sleep well?"
My chest tightened.
"I did."
Horace closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out a shaky sigh.
"Good. You deserved that."
His hand slid into my hair, fingertips resting at the nape of my neck.
"You okay?" he murmured.
"No pain? No heat spike?"
I shook my head.
"No. I feel… normal."
Horace's jaw loosened.
His shoulders relaxed fully.
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead—
barely there, but enough to make my body warm all over.
"Good," he whispered.
"So good…"
ROWAN WAKES NEXT
A small noise escaped Rowan—
a sleepy, muffled whine as he shifted.
He rubbed his cheek against my shoulder, eyes half-open.
"Elle…?"
His voice was tiny.
When he finally looked up and saw me awake—
relief washed over his face like a sunrise.
"You're okay…"
He exhaled shakily.
"You're really okay…"
I smiled at him softly.
His hand slid from my ribs to cup my wrist gently.
"Can I… hug you?" he whispered.
I nodded.
Rowan wrapped his arms around my middle, face buried against my collarbone, warm breath brushing my skin.
His voice trembled.
"I was afraid you'd disappear if I opened my eyes…"
I stroked his hair gently.
"I'm here."
Rowan made a soft sound—
half-sigh, half-laugh—
and melted against me again.
CHANDLER WAKES LAST
A warm palm flexed on my hip.
Then Chandler's voice, low and sandpaper-soft:
"…you're awake."
He didn't lift his head at first—
as if too tired to do anything more than speak.
Then he blinked his eyes open, gaze settling on me.
Unlike Horace and Rowan, Chandler didn't jolt with emotion.
His reaction was subtle—
relief in the way his shoulders dropped,
affection in the slight tilt of his lips,
something warm flickering behind tired eyes.
"How's your body feel?" he asked quietly.
I inhaled.
"No heat. No dizziness."
Chandler nodded once.
"Good."
His thumb brushed my hip in a slow, absent motion—
not sensual, not intentional,
just grounding.
"You slept long," he murmured.
I blinked.
"How long?"
Horace answered:
"Five hours."
"That's… a lot for a heat cycle," Rowan added softly.
Chandler's voice was low.
"You were exhausted. Your body needed it."
THEIR EYES MEET EACH OTHER BEFORE ME
The three of them exchanged glances.
Silent.
Heavy.
Understanding passing between them without a single word.
Not jealousy.
Not resentment.
Something deeper.
Unexpectedly steady.
Horace shifted slightly, careful not to disturb me.
Rowan lifted his head, wiping his eyes quietly.
Chandler leaned on his elbow, gaze soft.
Then Horace said it first:
"We should… talk about what happened."
The temperature in the room shifted—
not cold, not tense—
just full of meaning.
Rowan looked down at his hands.
Chandler's gaze dropped to the sheets.
I swallowed.
Horace cupped my cheek, guiding my eyes to his.
"You were conscious enough to choose us," he said gently.
"But I want to hear you say it now."
Rowan's fingers curled in the blanket.
Chandler's hand tightened slightly on my hip.
My heart beat faster.
I inhaled slowly—
steady, certain.
"I meant it," I whispered.
"I wanted… all of you."
All three boys drew in breath at the same time.
Rowan's eyes shimmered.
Chandler looked away for a moment, jaw tight with quiet emotion.
Horace leaned his forehead to mine softly.
"You have us," he whispered.
LUCAN WAKES, BREAKING THE MOMENT
"…is everyone alive?"
Lucian's groggy voice cut through the quiet.
All four of us turned.
He blinked at the scene:
me in the middle of a warm, tangled pile of three boys, all pressed close around me.
Lucian rubbed his eyes.
"…Right. I should have expected this."
Chandler snorted softly.
Rowan flushed bright red.
Horace actually smiled.
Lucian stretched slowly, then stood.
"We have three hours until the disciplinary assembly."
His gaze hardened.
"And everything we do now matters."
Horace's hand found mine.
Rowan scooted closer.
Chandler's arm tightened around my waist.
Lucian looked directly at me.
"Elleanore," he said softly,
"you don't have to face them alone."
I looked at each of them.
Then I whispered:
"I know."
The Weight of the Day Ahead
For a long moment, the room existed in a strange, soft quiet—
a fragile bubble holding all of us in the same breath.
Horace's thumb traced small, grounding circles on my waist.
Rowan leaned gently against my side, his cheek warm on my shoulder.
Chandler stayed close behind, his hand steady on my hip, quiet but present.
Lucian broke the silence first.
"We need a plan."
Horace stiffened slightly—
not pulling away from me,
but shifting into something sharper, focused.
Rowan sat up straighter, rubbing his eyes and pushing his hair from his face.
Chandler moved too, sliding one leg off the cot so he could brace himself with an elbow behind me—still keeping contact, but ready.
Lucian walked to the center of the room and tapped his data pad on.
A holographic display flickered to life.
"It's worse than we thought."
THE ASSEMBLY'S TRUE AGENDA
A list of names projected into the air—
members of the Academy Council.
But half the portraits were highlighted in red.
Rowan drew in a small breath.
"That many…?"
Lucian nodded grimly.
"Seven out of twelve members voted to open the disciplinary hearing urgently.
And they're framing it as a 'public safety review.' "
Chandler's brow furrowed.
"That's not normal procedure."
"It's not," Lucian agreed.
"Which means someone's pushing this aggressively."
Horace's jaw tightened.
"Who?"
Lucian swiped through the list until one name glowed brighter than the others.
Councilor Varyn Hale.
Rowan's breath hitched.
"He… he hates Omegas."
"Hates is an understatement," Lucian replied.
"He sees them as 'instability factors.' He's been trying to reduce Omega enrollment for years."
My stomach tightened.
"So he wants to make me… an example."
Lucian met my eyes.
"Yes."
Horace swore under his breath.
Chandler's hand pressed more firmly at my hip, steady and grounding.
Rowan leaned closer, voice soft.
"We won't let them."
I swallowed, voice small.
"But what exactly are they accusing me of?"
Lucian tapped the display again.
A list appeared:
Unauthorized access to restricted floors
Instability during heat cycle
Endangering the safety of high-ranking Alphas
Disruption of Academy property
Potential falsification of Omega identity metrics
My hands trembled involuntarily.
"Falsification…?" I whispered.
"But—why?"
Lucian hesitated.
Rowan's fingers found mine.
Chandler exhaled sharply.
Horace answered.
"…because your brother never should have had the same scent signature as you."
The room held its breath.
My pulse quickened in my chest.
"What does that mean?"
Horace brushed a hand down my arm.
"It means someone on the Council wants to claim you're not a 'real Omega.'
That you're dangerous.
That something is wrong with you."
Heat rose in my throat—
anger
fear
shame
a mix I couldn't separate.
"I didn't do anything wrong."
"You didn't," Chandler said immediately.
Rowan squeezed my hand tighter.
Horace leaned his forehead to mine again—
a grounding gesture he seemed to do without thinking now.
"None of this is your fault," he whispered.
"They're afraid of you. And fear makes people cruel."
Lucian nodded.
"But cruelty can't win if the truth is louder."
HORACE'S DECISION
Horace pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.
"Elleanore… you don't have to attend the assembly."
My breath caught.
"W-what?"
Horace's voice was firm.
"I'll speak for you. They won't lay a finger on you."
Chandler crossed his arms.
"I'll go with him. They can't intimidate both of us."
Rowan stepped forward, determination in his normally timid voice.
"I'm going too."
Lucian blinked.
"You understand this isn't a casual meeting, right?
They'll question you.
Pressure you.
Try to twist your words."
Rowan inhaled shakily but didn't back down.
"I'm not letting them attack her character.
Or pretend she's alone."
Chandler nodded once.
Horace's expression softened—something proud and fierce at the same time.
He turned to me again.
"Elleanore, you're not going to that assembly. You're staying safe."
I shook my head weakly.
"I can't just hide while you all fight for me."
"You're not hiding," Chandler said gently.
"You're healing."
Rowan moved in front of me, eyes shimmering.
"I saw you nearly die. I'm not letting you walk into a room of people who want to hurt you."
My throat tightened.
"You're all… doing too much."
"No."
Horace's voice cut through me—quiet but unshakable.
"We're doing exactly what you deserve."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
"I don't want any of you punished because of me…"
Horace cupped my jaw.
"They'll have to go through me."
Chandler placed a hand on my back.
"And me."
Rowan rested his forehead against my shoulder.
"And me."
Lucian sighed, arms crossed.
"…this is going to be a nightmare to manage.
But fine. Add me too."
A tiny, incredulous laugh escaped me—
shaky and warm.
They all went quiet.
Watching me.
Waiting.
I wiped my eyes.
"You're all ridiculous," I whispered.
Rowan smiled through his own tears.
"We know."
A DIFFERENT KIND OF WARMTH
The tension in the room loosened.
We weren't all right.
We weren't safe yet.
But we were together.
Chandler stood from the cot, stretching with a soft groan.
Rowan reluctantly lifted his head from my shoulder but kept one hand resting on my arm.
Horace brushed my hair back.
Lucian checked the hallway for watchers.
Everything felt…
warmer.
Closer.
Different.
Rowan leaned toward me.
"You should eat something," he whispered.
"You used so much energy last night…"
My cheeks warmed.
He flushed instantly.
"I—I mean… physically! Y-your body—"
Chandler snorted under his breath.
Horace smirked faintly.
Rowan buried his face in his hands.
Lucian sighed.
"You're all impossible."
But the corners of his lips twitched upward.
HORACE'S PROMISE
As Rowan composed himself and Chandler rummaged for food packs, Horace knelt beside the cot—bringing us eye level.
"Elleanore."
I looked at him.
His expression softened.
"We're going to get through this."
I swallowed.
"What if they don't believe you?"
"They will," he said simply.
"Because I'm not here as the Crown Prince."
His hand lifted, fingertips brushing the edge of my jaw.
"I'm here as the person who loves you."
My breath caught.
Rowan stilled.
Chandler froze mid-motion.
Lucian looked away discreetly.
Horace held my gaze.
"And I'm not letting them take you from me."
My heartbeat thrummed against my ribs—
warm
steady
certain.
I whispered—
"I believe you."
He exhaled as if those words anchored him.
THE DAY BEGINS
Lucian cleared his throat.
"We have three hours.
Eat.
Rest.
Then we go."
Chandler handed Rowan a ration pack.
Rowan passed one to me.
Horace sat beside me, close enough that our legs touched.
For the first time since waking—
I felt hunger.
Real hunger.
Human hunger.
Not heat.
Not desperation.
Just… morning.
I ate small bites.
Rowan watched me carefully, making sure I didn't get dizzy.
Chandler leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, gaze softening whenever it drifted my way.
Horace drank water and handed me the bottle every few minutes like he didn't trust me not to evaporate without hydration.
Lucian paced with a data pad, muttering under his breath.
It felt—
almost like a family.
A strange, fragile, chaotic one.
But mine.
When I finished eating, Horace helped me stand slowly.
My legs trembled—
not from weakness
but from the way he steadied me
hands firm at my waist.
"You're okay," he murmured.
Chandler approached, offering a hand.
Rowan hovered beside me like a guardian angel who might cry again at any moment.
Lucian stood guard by the door.
The assembly awaited.
And for the first time—
I wasn't terrified.
Not with them beside me.