The world outside the Academy was too bright.
Even with the sky overcast,
even with the breeze cold and sharp,
the moment we stepped through the hidden exit,
I had to squint.
It felt unreal.
Too open.
Too unrestrained.
Like stepping out of a cage you didn't realize was a cage
until the door was gone.
Elliot stirred weakly in Horace's arms.
"…Elle…?"
His voice was small, as if afraid the outside world might swallow him.
I walked closer, threading my fingers through his.
"I'm here."
He relaxed immediately, head dropping back onto Horace's shoulder.
Rowan wiped his eyes.
"God… I never thought I'd see the sky again."
Chandler lifted two children off his shoulders and set them down gently.
"Don't get used to it," he muttered.
"This is still enemy territory."
Sev clung to my leg.
Len clung to my sleeve.
Elo held my hand.
The other Phase Zero children hovered behind us,
their eyes darting at every leaf,
every sound,
every shift in the trees.
Lucian tightened his backpack straps and checked the perimeter.
"We need to get off Academy land before the system resets."
Horace nodded.
"There's a safehouse.
Not far from here."
Chandler raised a brow.
"What kind of safehouse?"
Horace hesitated before answering.
"…Royal family property."
Chandler stared.
"Wait—
you have a palace hideout and you didn't tell us sooner—??"
"It's not a palace."
Horace sighed.
"Just a forgotten estate used for strategic retreats."
Rowan blinked.
"You mean… you've known a way out this entire time…?"
Horace shook his head.
"No. I only knew of its existence.
But the only way to access it was from outside the Academy barrier."
Chandler folded his arms.
"So NOW we're allowed to use it."
Horace ignored him.
"We need to move. Quickly."
ACROSS THE FOREST
The forest surrounding the Academy was dense and quiet,
as if holding its breath.
For the first thirty minutes,
nobody spoke.
We just walked.
Elliot slept in Horace's arms, head tucked beneath the prince's chin.
Rowan walked on my left,
constantly checking if I was still beside him.
Chandler walked close on my right,
carrying Sev and Len when they tired.
Lucian followed just behind,
tablet in hand, scanning for threats.
Elo guided the remaining children, whispering soft directions.
The forest path was narrow,
overgrown,
the kind that would've been beautiful
if we weren't running for our lives.
Every branch snap made the children flinch.
Every gust of wind made Elliot tense.
Every birdcall made Rowan jump.
I held Elliot's hand,
and with every small squeeze he gave me,
I squeezed back.
"…Elle…"
"Yes?"
"…you're… warm…"
Chandler snorted.
"You're half-dead, kid. Everything feels warm."
Rowan glared at Chandler.
"Shut up."
Horace shot them both a warning look.
"Keep your voices down."
THE SAFEHOUSE REVEALS ITSELF
Just when I thought my legs would give out,
the trees parted.
A small stone house sat tucked beneath a hill,
hidden by vines and old growth.
It looked abandoned from the outside—
a sagging roof, cracked stone walls,
and moss-covered windows.
Chandler scratched his head.
"This?
THIS is your fancy royal hideout?"
Horace gave him a flat look.
"It's meant to look unimportant."
Rowan tugged my sleeve, quiet.
"It's… kind of pretty.
In a haunted, forest-witch sort of way."
Lucian stepped forward and pressed his hand against the mossy doorframe.
A faint glow responded.
The runes embedded beneath the stone lit up.
"Biometric lock," Lucian explained softly.
Chandler whistled.
"Okay.
I take it back.
Fancy."
Horace nudged the door open.
The warm, dry scent of old wood and untouched air drifted out.
"This is it," he said.
"Inside. Quickly."
INSIDE THE SAFEHOUSE
The interior was…
cozy.
Dusty, yes.
Old, absolutely.
But warm.
A fireplace sat at the center,
a kitchen table off to the side,
and a long couch facing a window overlooking the forest.
Soft rugs covered the floor.
There were two bedrooms.
A loft space with blankets.
Chandler dropped onto the couch like a rock.
Rowan helped the children onto the rug.
Elo guided them to sit in a circle.
Sev climbed into my lap instantly.
Len pressed against my left side.
Elliot, still in Horace's arms, reached for me reflexively.
"…Elle…"
"I'm here."
Horace set Elliot carefully onto the couch beside Chandler—
but Elliot leaned immediately toward me.
Rowan helped guide him onto my lap.
Horace didn't argue.
Chandler didn't either.
Elliot curled weakly against my chest, hands fisting in my clothes.
His voice trembled.
"…Elle…
don't leave me…"
"I won't."
He buried his face against me,
like a child clinging to warmth after a nightmare.
Rowan rubbed Elliot's back gently, tears pricking his eyes.
Chandler looked away—
but the tension in his jaw didn't soften.
Horace knelt beside us, calm and steady.
Lucian stood near the doorway, tablet in hand,
eyes flicking between the group and the forest outside.
He whispered:
"We're safe… for now."
Rowan froze.
"…what do you mean 'for now'?"
Lucian swallowed.
"The Academy knows something collapsed.
Caliban will know we're missing.
And he will put the campus on lockdown."
Chandler muttered:
"Let him try to come through the woods. I'll kill him."
Horace shot him a glare.
"Use your brain.
Caliban won't need to come personally."
Lucian nodded.
"Correct.
He'll send a retrieval unit."
Rowan covered his mouth.
"A… retrieval…?"
"For Elle," Lucian whispered.
"And Elliot.
And the children."
"…and us?"
Lucian hesitated.
"Only if we get in the way."
Chandler stood abruptly.
"Over my dead—"
Horace placed a hand on Chandler's shoulder.
"We are not letting them take her."
Chandler looked down at Horace's hand—
then at me.
"…good."
Rowan clutched my sleeve again.
"I'm not leaving her either."
Lucian looked at me, eyes serious.
"We need to plan."
I nodded.
"Then let's plan."
Elliot shifted in my lap,
lifting his head weakly to look at me.
His fingers brushed my cheek.
"…Elle…"
"Yes?"
"I'll… protect you too…"
My breath caught.
Rowan looked away quickly, wiping tears.
Chandler's jaw tightened.
Horace exhaled quietly.
Lucian bit his lip.
Elliot leaned into me again, half-asleep.
"…don't be scared…
I'm here…"
And the room fell into silence.
A soft, fragile silence.
The kind that comes at the end of a nightmare,
and the beginning of something else.
Something warmer.
Something dangerously close
to tender.
Soft Places Hurt the Most
The door shut with a soft click.
For a moment—
just a moment—
nobody moved.
The safehouse felt too quiet,
like the world was holding its breath around us.
Elliot lay draped across my lap, breathing slowly.
Sev curled against my hip.
Len leaned into my shoulder.
Rowan sat close to my right, hands folded tight in his lap.
Chandler sprawled on the couch's edge, elbows on knees, gaze flickering between Elliot and me.
Horace stood at the window, watching the forest with the still focus of someone born into danger and raised inside its rules.
Lucian paced—
small steps, nervous steps—
as though staying still would make everything crumble.
The Phase Zero children huddled around my legs, forming a tiny nest of warmth.
Elo tugged on my sleeve again.
"…Elle…
rest now?"
I smiled softly.
"Yes.
I think we all should."
Chandler snorted.
"You first."
Horace didn't look away from the window.
"She can't rest. Not yet."
Rowan flinched.
"Why… why not?"
Lucian stopped pacing.
"Because the moment Elleanore sleeps, Elliot's stability drops."
I blinked.
"Lucian—
I can't be awake forever."
"No," Lucian said quietly.
"But we need to ease Elliot out of panic-state anchoring. Slowly."
Chandler frowned.
"You're saying we need to… what?
Wean him?"
Lucian nodded.
"Yes.
Not from Elleanore—
from the instinctive fear that she'll disappear the second he closes his eyes."
Rowan's voice broke a little.
"…so we stay with him.
With her."
Horace finally turned from the window.
"That's what we're here for."
A SOFT WAKING
Elliot stirred again.
His fingers curled into my shirt,
slowly, clumsily,
like a child trying to grasp a dream before it vanished.
"…Elle…?"
I leaned closer.
"I'm here."
His lashes fluttered open.
His eyes—still hazy, unfocused—searched for me.
When he found me,
something inside him eased.
He exhaled shakily.
"…you're real."
"Yes."
"…not gone…"
"Never."
He swallowed.
"Don't…
don't leave me here alone…"
My chest tightened.
"I won't."
Rowan rubbed at his eyes, pretending not to cry.
Chandler looked away, jaw twitching.
Horace stepped closer, kneeling beside the couch.
"You're safe, Elliot."
Elliot blinked slowly at him.
"…you…
you carried me…"
"I did."
"…why…?"
Horace's answer was soft.
"Because your sister needed you alive."
Elliot's throat bobbed.
He leaned further into me, cheek against my collarbone.
"…Elle…
I'm sorry…"
I frowned.
"For what?"
"…making you…
come find me…"
My fingers threaded through his hair.
"You didn't make me do anything.
I chose you."
He trembled.
"…I didn't want…
to disappear…"
"You didn't."
He swallowed again, tears forming.
"…I was so scared…"
"I know."
His breathing steadied only when I slipped my arms fully around him.
Not possessively.
Not carefully.
But fully.
He melted into the embrace, body softening.
And the room…
reacted.
Rowan looked away with flushed cheeks.
Chandler shifted, uncomfortable with the way emotion knotted tight in his throat.
Lucian looked down, guilty for watching.
Horace's gaze softened, barely perceptible.
Something changed.
Silently.
Slowly.
In all of them.
The air warmed.
The edges softened.
Elliot pressed closer.
"…Elle…"
"Yes?"
"…you smell…
like home…"
Rowan sucked a breath.
Chandler stiffened.
Horace's jaw flexed.
Lucian whispered under his breath:
"…that's an early-stage anchor bond…"
My heart skipped.
"What?"
Lucian looked up sharply.
"N-Nothing—!
I mean—
I don't think—
well— it's complicated—"
Chandler narrowed his eyes.
"Lucian. Talk."
Horace simply said:
"Explain."
Lucian winced.
"Elliot isn't bonding with her like a mate.
Not yet.
This is a trauma anchor. A survival imprint.
But if they stay physically close for too long—
that instinct can grow into something else."
Rowan froze.
Chandler straightened, muscles tensing.
Horace exhaled slowly.
"So you're saying…
Elliot will start seeing her as something more."
Lucian nodded quietly.
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"I don't want to force anything on him."
"You're not forcing anything," Lucian said softly.
"He's choosing.
His instincts… are choosing."
Rowan bit his lip.
"…we'll… take care of him.
Right?
Together."
Chandler rolled his eyes.
"Don't get sappy."
But the way he glanced at Elliot…
It was worry.
And jealousy.
And something softer he refused to name.
Horace sat down next to the couch, posture protective.
"We stay with them," he decided.
"No one sleeps alone. Not tonight."
SMALL FRAGILE MOMENTS
The fireplace crackled softly.
Warm light filled the room.
Rowan sat at my side, brushing Elliot's hair from his forehead tenderly.
Sev curled into my lap.
Len rested his cheek against my thigh.
Elo and the children wrapped themselves in blankets, refusing to be more than a meter from me.
Chandler sighed deeply and sat on the rug beside us, legs sprawled carelessly—
but close.
Closer than usual.
Horace leaned against the couch near my legs, eyes drifting to half-closed calm.
Lucian sat near the fire, tablet in his lap, watching in quiet guilt.
I stroked Elliot's hair slowly.
He murmured into my collarbone.
"…Elle…"
"Yes?"
"…I feel warm…"
"That's good."
"…feels… safe…"
Rowan wiped his cheeks again.
"This is the first time you've looked peaceful since—
since we found you…"
Chandler murmured:
"First time I've seen her look peaceful too."
I blinked.
He looked away, ears slightly red.
Elliot nuzzled closer.
"…Elle…"
"Yes?"
"…don't let go…"
"I won't."
His breathing matched mine.
Slow.
Soft.
Intimate in a way that wasn't physical—
but deeply emotional.
Lucian lifted his gaze.
"His heartbeat stabilized."
Rowan smiled.
Horace nodded approvingly.
Chandler muttered:
"Tch. Figures."
I looked at Elliot again.
He looked fragile and human
in a way he hadn't in years.
The boy I loved.
The brother I lost.
The twin who wasn't gone.
He whispered one last time, barely audible:
"…stay with me…
please…"
"I will."
And the room responded
in the quiet way boys do
when they are falling—
slowly,
softly,
painfully aware—
that I was becoming
something to them
too.