We ran.
Not in a straight line.
Not toward anywhere safe.
We ran because Aiden Valehart was walking toward us—
calm, steady, unhurried—
like he already knew how the night would end.
Horace kept my hand locked in his, half-pulling me forward with surprising strength as we tore down the elite residential hallway.
Chandler ran behind us, knife gripped tight, looking over his shoulder every few steps.
Rowan typed furiously on his tablet while sprinting—trying to crack locks, override alarms, ANYTHING to slow our pursuers.
Cassian stayed closest to the back, eyes locked on his brother with a mix of fear and shame.
But Aiden didn't chase.
He didn't need to.
His slow footsteps echoed through the hall like a warning.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Rowan hissed under his breath, "Why isn't he running?!"
Cassian answered with a cracked voice.
"Because he wants to see where we go."
Chandler whipped around. "The hell does that mean?! Does he think we're stupid? We're not leading him anywhere—"
Horace cut in, sharp: "He's reading our movements. Every turn. Every escape route. He's memorizing them."
Cassian swallowed hard. "That's what they trained him for."
My breath hitched.
"Trained him?"
Cassian didn't meet my eyes.
"He wasn't unstable," Cassian whispered. "He was changed."
Out the Residential Wing
We burst out the side door into a colder night breeze. The courtyard's lamps were flickering weakly, half the campus lit, half swallowed in shadows.
Horace made the first call.
"To the gardens," he said.
Chandler balked. "The gardens?! That's an OPEN space!"
"Exactly," Horace snapped. "No corners. No blind spots. No ambush."
Rowan nodded while typing. "The walkway's motion sensors lag at night—they won't track us as fast."
Cassian ran beside us, voice low. "But the gardens mean Aiden will have a straight line to see us."
Horace squeezed my hand tighter.
"He already sees us."
A chill ran down my spine.
Julieta's voice echoed faintly from behind the doorway:
"Aiden. Bring her."
That was all she said.
Calm.
Cold.
Aiden stepped into the courtyard behind us.
Not running.
Still walking.
And yet—
Every step closed the distance like time was bending around him.
The Garden Path
We sprinted over stone steps and onto the long path leading to the gardens.
The lamps cast long shadows across trimmed hedges.
The scent of night blossoms filled the air—usually calming, now suffocating.
My lungs burned.
My legs ached.
But fear dragged me forward.
Chandler grabbed my shoulder as we turned a corner too sharply.
"Elleanore—watch it!"
"I'm fine," I gasped.
"No, you're NOT," he muttered, pushing me a bit closer to Horace. "Stay between us."
Cassian slowed down slightly, glancing behind us—
Then cursed.
"He's faster."
We looked.
Aiden was no longer walking.
He wasn't running either.
He was simply…
moving.
Silently.
Smoothly.
Unnaturally.
His shadow stretched under the lamps, long and wrong.
Rowan nearly tripped. "Hormonal rupture my ass—that's not normal!"
Cassian hissed, "He was experimented on."
Everyone froze mid-stride.
Horace whipped around. "WHAT?"
Cassian clenched his fists, voice breaking.
"My father didn't hide Aiden because he was unstable. He hid him because the Academy's research division got involved."
Chandler grabbed him by the collar mid-run.
"You KNEW ABOUT THIS AND YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING?!"
Cassian shoved him off.
"I didn't know they used him for tracking Omegas. I didn't know he was part of a scent reactivity trial."
My breath caught painfully.
"Trial?"
Cassian nodded, face twisted in guilt.
"They trained him to follow scent anomalies. Stick onto them. Tighten in on them like a predator. They weaponized his instincts."
Chandler shouted, "SO ELLIOT—"
Cassian's voice cracked into a whisper.
"Elliot wasn't supposed to be a target. He only became one because his scent reacted like yours."
My heart split open.
"That's why he confronted you," I whispered. "He thought YOU triggered that reaction."
Cassian nodded painfully.
"Yes. And when he realized the truth, it was too late."
Rowan slammed a hand on a metal gate, unlocking it with a bypass code.
"It's that room," Rowan said breathlessly. "The one with the scratches. Aiden dragged someone there before."
I felt sick.
Horace wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
"Elleanore," he said softly, voice cracking just slightly, "Elliot didn't run. He fought."
Across the Garden
The garden opened into a massive courtyard—a maze of hedges, fountains, and marble statues.
Chandler stopped dead.
"NOPE. Absolutely not. This is a trap."
Rowan pointed at the far archway. "That's the fastest path to Horace's tower."
Cassian shook his head. "And the easiest path for Aiden to cut across."
Horace didn't hesitate.
"Elleanore goes with me. Chandler, flank right. Cassian, left. Rowan—shut down as many sensors as you can."
We followed.
Running through the garden felt like running through a dream—too bright, too dark, everything moving too fast.
My breath came out in weak, painful gasps.
Horace noticed.
He slowed just enough to keep me from collapsing.
"You're doing great," he murmured. "Just a bit more."
Cassian suddenly froze.
"EVERYONE DOWN!"
We dropped behind a stone bench—
Just as Aiden appeared between the hedges.
Silent.
Still.
His eyes lifted toward the air—
sniffing.
Rowan whispered, "He's scent-tracking her."
Chandler cursed under his breath. "Now what?!"
Horace pulled me close, cupping his hand around the back of my neck—covering the spot where an Omega scent would release strongest.
Aiden paused.
Turned.
Tilted his head.
Looking straight at where we hid.
Chandler whispered, voice trembling with fury, "He can smell her even with suppressants—?"
Cassian answered, horrified, "They enhanced his sensing ability. He's not tracking the suppressor. He's tracking the flaw."
"What flaw?" I whispered.
Cassian's voice was a ghost.
"Your scent isn't completely masked."
My body froze.
Horace's grip tightened instinctively.
Then Aiden's voice drifted across the garden—quiet enough that it felt like a whisper inside my ear.
"Found you."
Horace didn't wait.
"RUN!"
We bolted out from behind the bench.
Aiden moved too—
this time running—
fast.
Terrifyingly fast.
Cassian swore and shoved us forward.
Chandler grabbed my arm and practically dragged me across the courtyard.
Rowan jumped over a stone bench and started smashing override commands into every garden security node he could find.
Horace pulled me along, breath short. "Almost—there—!"
We sprinted toward the archway leading to his tower—
When suddenly—
Julieta stepped out from behind a pillar.
Blocking the exit.
Smiling.
"Elleanore," she said softly. "Elliot warned you about the wrong person."
Chandler shouted, "MOVE!"
Julieta reached into her uniform pocket.
Pulled out a small metal capsule.
Cassian's eyes widened.
"NO—DON'T—"
Julieta crushed the capsule between her fingers.
A sharp, metallic scent exploded into the air—
disorienting, sharp, chemically sweet—
Omega-response trigger.
Aiden froze mid-run.
Then inhaled deeply.
Too deeply.
And his eyes—
his eyes changed.
Darkened.
Dilated.
Lost their human focus.
"Oh no," Rowan breathed. "They just activated him."
Horace pulled me back instinctively.
Aiden's voice came out warped—
lower, rougher, cracked.
"Mine."
Cassian stepped in front of us like a wall.
"DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!"
Julieta smirked.
"Aiden doesn't need to touch her. He just needs to bring her back."
Chandler lunged with his knife.
Rowan yelled, "DON'T—"
Too late.
Aiden dodged effortlessly—
grabbed Chandler's arm—
and slammed him into a hedge so hard leaves exploded around him.
"CHANDLER!" I screamed.
Horace tried to run to him, but Cassian blocked him.
"No," Cassian gasped. "He'll take you."
Aiden turned back toward me—
No longer a prefect.
No longer Cassian's brother.
A hunter.
Julieta smiled.
"Elleanore Fonze," she said softly, "you should've stayed in your place."
Horace grabbed me by the waist, lifting me to my feet.
His voice broke.
"We're not dying here. Go!"
We bolted.
But as we ran, everything in me knew one thing with bone-deep certainty:
This was the same terror Elliot felt.
This was the same chase Elliot survived once.
This was the moment everything changed for him.
And now—
It was happening to me.
The Price Elliot Paid
Horace didn't let go of me once—not even when the garden path narrowed, not even when Chandler hit the hedge hard and groaned in pain, not even when Aiden's footsteps thundered behind us like an approaching storm.
"Horace—Chandler—" I gasped, trying to look back.
"I've got him!" Rowan shouted, already sprinting toward Chandler, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him upright.
Chandler hissed through clenched teeth, "I'm fine—keep moving—"
He wasn't fine.
His arm hung at a strange angle.
But he ran anyway.
Cassian fell back to cover our rear. "Don't stop—go!"
Aiden was faster than all of us.
Even faster now that Julieta had triggered whatever experimental scent-response state he'd been modified into. His eyes glowed faintly under the lamp lights—dark irises edged with a glassy, unnatural shine.
He wasn't breathing heavily.
He wasn't strained.
He wasn't human.
And he was gaining on us.
Horace lifted me partly off the ground again—one arm under my waist, almost carrying me as my feet stumbled. His breath was harsh and uneven, but his grip stayed steady.
"Elleanore—don't look back," he said.
I didn't need to.
I felt Aiden closing in.
Like the air behind me tightened with every step we took.
We cut across the final stretch of garden, sprinting toward the tall archway that led to Horace's tower—the only place on campus where royal-level locks could stall a prefect or a specialist.
Almost there.
Almost.
Rowan shouted, "LEFT—NOW!"
We veered sharply—
—and Aiden's hand closed around the air where my shoulder had been a second before.
Horace tightened his grip and yanked me forward.
Cassian slammed into Aiden from behind with a roar. "STAY AWAY FROM HER!"
Their bodies collided with brutal force, skidding across the stone tiles. Cassian grabbed Aiden by the collar, pounding him into the ground.
"STOP CHASING HER!" Cassian shouted, voice breaking. "STOP—AIDEN, STOP!"
Aiden didn't even flinch.
He grabbed Cassian's wrist—
tighter—
tighter—
Cassian's breath hitched in pain.
Chandler charged, swinging with his good arm. "LET HIM GO!"
Aiden twisted Cassian's arm, using him as a shield, forcing Chandler to stop mid-strike or risk slicing Cassian instead.
Rowan skidded to a halt beside us, breathless. "Their training—Aiden's reacting to threat prioritization—he doesn't SEE his brother—he sees a barrier!"
Horace cursed under his breath.
"Cassian!" I cried.
Cassian locked eyes with me—pain and fear and shame swirling in his expression—before Aiden shoved him aside like he weighed nothing.
Cassian tumbled across the ground, scraping his palms, but he forced himself back up.
"Elleanore," Rowan said urgently, eyes on me, "there's something you need to know."
"NOW?!" Chandler shouted.
"Yes, NOW," Rowan snapped. "Because the reason Elliot was targeted—it wasn't random."
Rowan pulled his tablet from his pocket, flicking through encrypted files.
Cassian staggered to his feet. "Elliot wasn't supposed to be in the trial. The trial wasn't supposed to involve students—"
"And yet it DID," Rowan said, his voice trembling despite himself. "Look."
He held up the screen.
There—
blurred, half-redacted—
was a name.
Elliot Jan Fonze
Project: Sentinelle (Subject B)
My heart cracked.
"No…" I whispered. "No, no, no—"
Rowan kept reading, voice low and strained:
"Subject B mimics scent signatures close to Target Omega. Reaction predicted. Tracking viability tested. If unstable results occur, subject is—"
He stopped.
Because the last line twisted every word into a knife:
"—to be neutralized."
Horace froze.
Chandler's face drained of color.
Cassian inhaled shakily, shaking his head over and over.
"No… that can't be right. That can't be—"
Rowan's voice turned hollow.
"It's right."
My knees buckled.
Elliot wasn't just investigating something.
He wasn't in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He wasn't just unlucky.
He was chosen.
Used.
He was bait.
Because he smelled like me.
Because he shared my scent.
Because they could test their weapon—Aiden—on him first.
"Elliot…" I whispered, tears burning my eyes. "He knew. He figured it out."
"He tried to hide you," Horace said softly, voice breaking. "He tried to protect you."
A sob tore out of my chest.
Rowan grabbed my shoulder. "Elleanore—listen to me—Elliot wrote that letter because he knew they would come for YOU next."
Cassian staggered, horror in his eyes. "And Aiden—Aiden was conditioned to respond to your scent because—"
"Because that was the whole point," Rowan finished. "Omega-targeting. One trial subject for the Omega stand-in. One trial subject for the hunter. Aiden was assigned to him."
And that's when I understood.
The reason Elliot scratched at walls.
The reason Elliot wrote half a sentence and ran.
The reason Elliot begged me never to come here.
He wasn't trying to save himself.
He was trying to save me.
And he paid for it.
Horace stepped closer, voice rough and fragile. "Elleanore… it wasn't your fault."
But the words couldn't reach me.
Not through the guilt.
Not through the grief.
Not through the horror.
Behind us—
Aiden lifted his head.
His eyes locked on me like he'd just recognized something essential.
The scent trigger Julieta set off earlier pulsed faintly in the air, clinging like a chemical fog.
Aiden inhaled again.
Slowly.
Deeply.
And the last shred of humanity in his face flickered—
Then vanished.
"Found you," he whispered.
Julieta appeared again at the archway, watching with cold satisfaction.
"Bring her, Aiden."
Horace grabbed me, pulling me toward the tower entrance.
"RUN!"
We ran.
Cassian stumbled to his feet, throwing himself between Aiden and us.
Chandler limped closer, knife raised.
Rowan sprinted ahead to override the tower doors.
The night spun.
The world narrowed.
Aiden took one step—
just one—
And every instinct screamed:
This is how Elliot felt at the end.
This is how Elliot died.
For me.