The hallway outside the recovery room felt colder than I remembered.
Maybe it wasn't the air.
Maybe it was everything waiting for us at the end of it.
I stood in the doorway for a moment, breath steady, hands clenched slightly at my sides.
Horace noticed immediately.
He stepped close—
not crowding,
not overwhelming—
just near enough that the warmth of his body brushed mine.
"You don't have to go farther than you want," he murmured.
Rowan slipped to my other side, fingers brushing mine.
"If something feels wrong, tell us," he whispered softly.
Chandler took a slow step behind me—
close enough to shield,
far enough not to pressure.
"We're with you," he said simply.
Lucian, at the front, checked the hallway with a scanner.
"All clear. Let's move."
I took a breath.
Then another.
And stepped forward.
HORACE SUPPORTS HER, GENTLY
The moment I wobbled—
not much, just a slight weakness in my knees—
Horace's arm curved immediately around my waist.
"Steady," he whispered.
His voice was low enough that it coaxed my breath into matching his.
Rowan moved in closer on my left, slipping his hand beneath my elbow.
His cheeks were pink, eyes wide with concentration.
"I can help too," he murmured.
"You are helping," Horace said without looking away from me.
Rowan tried to hide a smile.
Chandler walked close behind, like a silent sentinel.
I could feel his gaze—sharp, protective—sweeping the hall ahead and behind us.
Lucian led the group, tapping his data pad occasionally as if expecting danger at any moment.
I shouldn't have felt safe.
But I did.
More than I ever had.
THE FIRST HINT OF JEALOUSY
As we reached the hallway's midpoint, Rowan shifted closer, letting his shoulder brush mine.
His voice was shy.
"If you're tired, you can lean on me a little more…"
Before I could answer, Horace spoke—
not harsh,
but sharper than his usual tone.
"I've got her."
Rowan blinked in surprise.
His hand loosened.
"I-I know, but… I'm here too—"
"You don't need to strain yourself," Horace said quietly.
"You're still recovering from last night."
Rowan's face flushed pink—
part embarrassment,
part flustered surprise,
part something else entirely.
He looked down.
"I wasn't… I just wanted to help."
My heart pinched.
"Rowan," I whispered,
"I want your help."
His head snapped up.
Eyes wide.
Hopeful.
Bright.
"O-okay," he breathed.
He slid his hand back under my elbow, more confidently this time.
Horace exhaled slowly—
not angry,
but wrestling with something he didn't want to admit.
Chandler muttered behind us:
"Try not to glare holes into each other this early."
Horace shot him a look.
Rowan shrank a little.
Chandler looked unbothered.
Lucian didn't bother looking back.
"You three can sort out whatever adolescent mate-competition instincts these are after we survive the assembly."
Rowan squeaked in mortification.
Horace's ears reddened.
Chandler smirked.
THEIR DYNAMICS SHIFT SUBTLY
As we approached the main stairway, the rhythm changed.
Horace stayed at my right—
the unwavering anchor.
His presence steady, calm, controlled.
Rowan stayed at my left—
soft, attentive, sensitive to my smallest breath.
Chandler remained behind—
the protective wall that made the hallway feel less threatening.
Lucian kept scanning.
The way they moved around me wasn't chaotic.
It flowed.
Each of them adjusting to my pace.
To each other.
To the space we shared.
Not perfect.
Not without tension.
But something was beginning to settle.
Something almost… natural.
Like this wasn't the first time we'd walked together.
Like it wouldn't be the last.
AT THE MAIN LANDING
The Academy's central staircase loomed ahead.
Wide.
Cold.
Marble steps polished enough to reflect the soft overhead lights.
My legs tensed.
Horace noticed instantly.
"You okay?"
Rowan's hand squeezed mine.
"If it's too much, we can wait…"
Chandler stepped beside me now—no longer behind.
"You don't have to walk that alone."
Lucian pointed to the left corridor.
"There's a side elevator if she needs—"
"I can walk," I whispered.
They all paused.
I straightened slowly, letting go of Rowan's elbow and Horace's waist touch—
only long enough to take a breath.
"I want to walk this part myself," I said softly.
Rowan bit his lip.
Horace looked conflicted.
Chandler folded his arms, assessing.
Lucian watched quietly.
Then Horace stepped forward and offered his hand.
Not to hold me up.
To let me take it if I chose to.
Rowan offered his too.
Chandler's remained open at his side.
I hesitated.
Then—
I slid my hand into Horace's.
Took two steps.
Stopped.
Then reached for Rowan's hand too.
Rowan's face exploded in pink.
His fingers trembled around mine.
Chandler exhaled a low, warm breath through his nose—
and walked at my other side without taking my hand,
but staying close enough that his presence steadied me as well.
Lucian muttered under his breath:
"…okay, yes, this is officially a harem."
Rowan choked.
Horace shot him a warning glare.
Chandler snorted.
I flushed deeply.
But no one let go of me.
Not even for a moment.
THE SILENCE BEFORE THE STORM
When we reached the top of the staircase, the air changed slightly.
Rowan felt it first—
his shoulders tensing.
Horace shifted closer, thumb brushing my knuckles.
Chandler's posture straightened, muscles tight under his uniform.
Lucian stopped walking.
"The Council chamber is around that corner," he said quietly.
My heart hammered.
Rowan squeezed my hand gently.
"We're here," he murmured.
"We're right here."
Chandler's voice lowered.
"No matter what they say… don't believe a single thing that puts blame on you."
Horace stepped close enough that I felt the heat of him along my arm.
"They're not ready for what I'll do if they try."
I swallowed.
"…thank you."
Lucian exhaled.
"It's time."
He opened the door to the Council corridor.
The air shifted again—
heavier, quieter, soaked in tension and politics.
I stepped forward—
hands held in theirs,
heart pounding,
but steadier than before.
And together—
we walked into whatever waited for us.
Whispers in the Hall of Judgment
The corridor leading to the Council chamber was nothing like the rest of the Academy.
It was wider, darker, quieter—
the kind of silence that didn't feel empty.
It felt watchful.
My grip tightened around Rowan's and Horace's hands without meaning to.
Rowan squeezed back instantly, thumb brushing my knuckles in small, calming circles.
Horace stayed close, his hand warm and steady in mine.
But his eyes had gone cold—sharp, alert, calculating.
Chandler walked slightly ahead of us now, shoulders tense, ready to step between me and anything that moved too suddenly.
Lucian had his data pad out, scanning every reflective surface, every shadow.
We hadn't even reached the chamber yet, but—
We were being watched.
I could feel it.
And apparently, so could everyone else.
WHISPERS
The moment we turned the corner, the whispers began.
Muted.
Soft.
But unmistakable.
"Is that her…?"
"—the Omega from the restricted wing—"
"Did you see the report?"
"Why is the Crown Prince with her?"
"No—why are they all with her?"
"She must be dangerous—"
My breath hitched.
Rowan stepped closer immediately.
"They're just scared," he whispered.
Horace's jaw flexed.
"They should be scared of me instead."
Chandler's low voice followed:
"One wrong comment and I swear—"
"Do not escalate," Lucian hissed, not slowing his pace.
"This hallway is under surveillance."
That shut the boys up—
barely.
But the whispers didn't stop.
If anything, they grew louder with every step.
"—Omega contamination risk?"
"I heard her heat nearly killed someone—"
"No, no, it was three Alphas—"
"That's impossible. She'd be dead—"
My stomach twisted.
Rowan tugged gently on my hand, voice shaking with anger.
"They don't know anything. They're just repeating rumors."
Horace's eyes swept over the small groups of students and aides quietly gathering around the corridor walls.
When one student whispered a little too loudly—
"Why is she even allowed in the Academy—?"
Horace snapped.
His voice was quiet.
Lethal.
"Say that again."
The student froze.
Everyone froze.
Rowan's grip on my hand tightened.
Chandler stepped forward, expression darkening.
Lucian put a hand out sharply.
"Horace."
Horace didn't look at him.
His gaze pinned the student.
"Say it again."
The corridor plunged into absolute silence.
The student swallowed.
"I—I didn't mean—"
"Yes," Horace said,
"you did."
Rowan exhaled shakily.
Chandler's eyes narrowed.
The student backed away until his shoulders hit the wall.
Horace didn't move closer.
Didn't raise his voice.
He only said—
"You don't speak about her again.
Not here.
Not anywhere."
The tension radiating from him was enough that the entire hallway heard it as a warning.
Lucian stepped between Horace and the student, pushing the prince lightly back.
"We do not have time for this."
Horace exhaled slowly—tight, controlled.
He looked at me.
I looked back.
His shoulders loosened a fraction.
Rowan rubbed my arm gently.
Chandler shifted protectively beside me.
The whispers died instantly.
But the stares didn't.
THE CHAMBER DOORS
At the end of the long corridor stood two enormous wooden doors, carved with the Academy's crest.
Four guards flanked it.
Two more stood in front.
It looked more like the entrance to a trial than a disciplinary hearing.
Lucian muttered under his breath:
"Overkill."
Horace's hand tightened around mine.
Rowan trembled slightly but didn't let go.
Chandler stepped in front of me instinctively as one of the guards shifted.
The guard raised a hand.
"Only designated individuals may enter the Council chamber."
Lucian stepped forward.
"They're designated."
The guard's eyes drifted to me.
"This Omega is under review. She cannot enter."
Horace spoke before Lucian could.
"She's not going inside."
The guard blinked.
"…Then why is she here?"
"To make sure all of you see exactly who you're dealing with," Horace said coldly.
My heart jumped.
Rowan stared at him in awe.
Chandler smirked.
Lucian pinched the bridge of his nose.
The guards exchanged glances.
"This is highly irregular—"
Horace moved so fast that even Chandler blinked.
One moment he was beside me.
The next he was nose-to-nose with the guard.
"You want to talk about irregular?"
His voice was soft and deadly.
"My mate nearly died because of your negligence."
The hallway went silent.
Even breathing felt dangerous.
Mate.
He said—
mate.
My pulse stuttered.
Rowan gasped quietly.
Chandler's brows rose slightly, but his expression didn't falter.
Lucian groaned under his breath.
"Horace—"
But the prince continued, his gaze freezing the guard in place.
"Let me be very clear," he whispered.
"If the Council intends to punish anyone today…
they'll have to address me first."
The guard swallowed visibly.
Rowan tugged lightly on Horace's sleeve.
"Horace… don't get arrested before we even go in."
Horace blinked.
Looked at Rowan.
Then at me.
His expression softened—
just barely.
He stepped back.
But the warning lingered in the air like lightning.
AND THEN—THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
Just as Lucian approached the guards with the authorization codes—
footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the hall.
Slow.
Measured.
Unhurried.
But heavy.
Everyone turned.
A figure walked toward us, flanked by two attendants.
A tall man
with hair like steel shadow
and eyes like cold amber.
Rowan froze.
Chandler stiffened.
Lucian cursed very softly.
Horace stepped in front of me, blocking me with his body.
Because approaching us—
smiling without warmth—
was the last person any of them wanted to see.
Councilor Varyn Hale.
The man who pushed for the hearing.
The man who wanted Omegas restricted.
The man who wanted me made into an example.
His eyes drifted over the boys.
Then settled on me.
Slow.
Assessing.
Intrusive.
"So," he said softly,
"this is the girl."
Horace's body locked.
Rowan pressed closer to me.
Chandler's nostrils flared.
Lucian stepped forward sharply.
"Councilor Hale. You are early."
Hale smiled lightly.
"I couldn't help myself.
I wanted to see the Omega causing all this trouble."
His gaze sharpened into something predatory.
"And the three Alphas she nearly… broke."
My pulse roared in my ears.
Horace growled—actually growled—
a low, dangerous sound.
Rowan flinched.
Chandler stepped between Hale and me instantly.
Lucian raised a hand.
"Councilor—"
Hale ignored him completely.
His eyes stayed on me.
"Tell me, girl," he murmured.
"Do you have any idea the burden you've placed on the Academy?"
My throat tightened.
He took one step toward me.
And all three boys moved at once.
Horace grabbed my waist.
Rowan grabbed my hand.
Chandler stepped fully into Hale's path.
Hale stopped.
Smiling.
"Ah," he said.
"So she is not without defenders.
How charming."
His eyes gleamed with something cruel.
"This will be… entertaining."
Lucian's voice cut through the tension sharply.
"Councilor. Inside. Now."
Hale gave a small bow—mocking.
Insulting.
"As you wish."
He turned.
Walked calmly through the guarded doors.
The guards followed.
The doors shut behind them with a heavy thud.
Silence fell.
My heart raced.
Rowan's hand trembled around mine.
Chandler's jaw clenched.
Horace pulled me close—
so close I could feel the tension rolling off him.
Lucian exhaled slowly.
"Well," he murmured.
"That went about as horribly as it could."
Horace looked at me, eyes burning.
"Stay with Rowan and Chandler," he said quietly.
"Do not move.
Do not follow."
Rowan pressed against my side.
Chandler put a steady hand on my shoulder.
Lucian stepped forward.
"Horace. It's time."
Horace brushed his forehead against mine—
brief, soft, grounding.
"I will come back for you," he whispered.
My breath trembled.
"I know."
Then he turned—
and walked toward the chamber doors.
Rowan squeezed my hand.
Chandler stepped closer.
Lucian followed Horace.
The guards opened the doors.
Horace disappeared inside.
Lucian behind him.
The doors shut again—
loud
final
heavy.
And now…
the real storm would begin.