Red lights washed over the hallway like blood.
Sirens blared.
The walls vibrated.
Metal shutters slammed down one by one through the Academy, each one cutting off another escape route.
Lucian hadn't called for prefects.
He hadn't called for security.
He'd triggered a Crown-level lockdown.
Horace didn't wait for the shutters to finish sealing.
He lifted me into his arms as if I weighed nothing and ran.
My vision blurred as my head fell against his shoulder.
Every breath felt heavy, too warm, too thick—
my scent still surging and collapsing in waves I couldn't control.
Rowan ran ahead, tablet held out like a compass.
Chandler sprinted beside him, swearing with every step.
Cassian stayed behind us, half-carrying Aiden, who stumbled and groaned with each movement.
Horace's heartbeat pounded against my ear.
Steady.
Fast.
Alive.
"Elleanore, talk to me," he said, voice rough.
I tried.
"Horace… I'm—I'm dizzy—"
"I know. Just keep breathing. You're okay. I've got you."
Another shutter slammed behind us with a teeth-rattling crash.
Cassian flinched.
"Rowan! PLEASE tell me you've got an exit!"
Rowan swiped furiously.
"The East Wing gates are sealed. The student quad is sealed. The staff wing is—oh you've got to be kidding me—SEALED. He locked the entire building!"
Chandler skidded around a corner.
"So we're rats in a maze! Fantastic!"
Horace snarled, "Rowan—ANYTHING!"
Rowan's thumbs stopped moving.
"There's one exit left."
Cassian panted, "WHERE?!"
Rowan swallowed.
"The sublevel maintenance tunnels."
Chandler froze mid-step.
"NO. Nope. Absolutely not. Those tunnels are death traps—"
"They're the only unsealed route," Rowan snapped.
Horace didn't hesitate.
"Then we take them."
Cassian paled.
"Aiden can't handle underground scent compression—"
"We don't have a choice!" Rowan shouted.
Another shutter slammed down behind us.
We didn't even look back anymore.
The Maze Sprint
Horace carried me down a flight of stairs two at a time.
The scent of cold metal chased us—
a trace of Lucian's presence still lingering in the air, like smoke after fire.
My fingers curled weakly into the fabric of Horace's shirt.
"Horace… Lucian… h-he's calling soldiers—"
"I know," Horace said, voice sharp with worry.
"But before they get here, we're getting you out."
Chandler yelled from up ahead,
"Staircase! Tight left, tight left!—NO, NOT THAT DOOR IT'S—"
A shutter dropped in front of him and he nearly ran face-first into it.
"…locked." Chandler finished.
Rowan darted past him, grabbed Horace's sleeve, and pointed.
"THIS WAY!"
Horace pivoted smoothly, his breath growing heavier but his strength unyielding.
Cassian stumbled behind us, dragging Aiden's arm over his shoulders.
Aiden's voice rasped, cracked and raw,
"Elle—Elle—"
Cassian whispered fiercely,
"She's safe—focus on breathing—PLEASE, Aiden—don't collapse—"
But Aiden's body twitched with every waft of my unstable scent.
Rowan didn't dare turn off the tablet's scanner.
It flickered with red warning symbols as we moved.
"Two more shutters before maintenance access—GO!"
Horace sprinted.
Chandler slammed into one shutter just before it closed, wedging his shoulder inside and holding it up with a strained grunt.
"GO GO GO GO GO—!"
Horace ducked under with me.
Rowan slid through.
Cassian shoved Aiden under the metal with both arms.
Chandler groaned. "HURRY—!"
The shutter slammed onto his calves as he rolled beneath it.
He hissed in pain but laughed breathlessly.
"HA—take THAT, overpriced royal LOCKDOWN."
Horace didn't stop running.
The Scent Crash
Halfway down the next hall, I felt it.
A drop.
A crash.
A dizzying wave of heat and ice that made my whole body seize.
My fingers slipped from Horace's shirt.
"Horace—"
My voice came out thin.
His eyes snapped to me, wild with alarm.
"Elleanore?!"
My breath stuttered.
"I—I can't—my scent—won't stop—"
Rowan spun.
"Horace—she's hitting secondary threshold! Put her down gently—SLOWLY—"
Horace slid to his knees, holding me upright as my scent pulsed again.
Strong.
Stronger.
Too strong.
Cassian cried out as Aiden convulsed beside him.
Rowan paled.
"This is BAD—her system is trying to stabilize—but she hasn't been trained—she's overheating—her lungs can't regulate—!"
Chandler cursed loudly.
"HELLO? NOT THE TIME FOR A BREAKDOWN!"
Horace cupped my face with both hands.
"Elleanore—look at me."
I tried.
His eyes were sharp, frantic, steady—
a mix of fear and something deeper.
"Do you hear me?"
"Yes," I gasped.
"You're okay. You're with me. Stay right here. Breathe."
I inhaled—
Lucian's metallic scent slammed into me like a fist.
I flinched violently.
Horace growled,
"DAMN IT—his scent is still in the air—"
Rowan's voice cracked,
"Horace, you need to drown it out—your scent—let her smell only you—!"
Chandler blinked.
"Isn't that—like—dangerous?"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER!" Rowan shouted.
"She needs a stable scent to anchor to or she'll collapse!"
Cassian sobbed,
"Aiden—Aiden—FOCUS—DON'T—DON'T PASS OUT—!"
Horace's jaw clenched.
"Elleanore."
His voice dipped low.
Warm.
Steady.
Protective in a way that made my chest ache.
"I'm here."
He leaned closer—
And his scent wrapped around me.
Not forcefully.
Not claiming.
Protecting.
Warm cedar.
Something faintly smoky.
Something steady and grounding.
My breathing steadied.
Cassian gasped when Aiden's body stopped convulsing.
Rowan exhaled in shaky relief.
"Good—GOOD—she's anchoring—just a little longer—Horace don't stop—"
Horace didn't.
He didn't move until my shaking eased.
Only then—
did he speak again.
"You with me?"
I nodded weakly.
"Yes…"
Horace exhaled, forehead nearly touching mine.
"Good.
Because we're almost there."
The Sublevel Gate
Rowan pointed to a heavy service door at the end of the hall.
"That's our entrance!"
Chandler groaned, limping.
"About TIME."
Cassian dragged Aiden forward, voice hoarse.
"Hang on—hang on—just a little more—"
Horace lifted me again, slower this time, afraid of jarring my scent.
When we reached the service door, Rowan slapped a code on the panel.
It flashed red.
"What?" Rowan whispered.
"No—no no no—he couldn't have sealed THIS too—he—"
Behind us, a deep metallic thud echoed.
Then another.
Then—
Boots.
Royal boots.
Hundreds.
Marching.
Cassian froze.
Chandler swore.
Aiden growled weakly.
Horace's face hardened in an instant.
"Rowan. Override. NOW."
"I—I'm trying—!"
Another thud.
Closer.
The boots were coming fast.
Lucian's men.
Not prefects.
Not escorts.
Soldiers.
Rowan's breath hitched. "Horace—they're sending a full tactical unit—!"
Horace didn't hesitate.
He set me down gently against the wall, hand lingering longer than necessary.
"Elleanore," he whispered.
"Stay low."
Then he stepped in front of everyone and faced the door.
Chandler blinked.
"What are you—"
Horace spoke, calm and lethal:
"Stand back."
Cassian dragged Aiden behind him.
Rowan scrambled away.
Horace rolled back his shoulders—
and released his scent.
Not gently.
Not carefully.
He released it like a detonation.
The air cracked.
The lights flickered.
Even the walls seemed to bend.
Cassian gasped.
Rowan's hands flew to his ears.
Chandler stumbled.
Aiden went completely still.
The lock panel sparked—
glitched—
and blew.
The maintenance door burst open.
"GO!" Horace roared.
Chandler grabbed Rowan and sprinted inside.
Cassian dragged Aiden.
Horace swept me into his arms again and ran.
Just as the first shadows turned the corner behind us—
Rows of armored soldiers appearing.
Lucian's voice echoed down the hall.
Cold.
Measured.
Final.
"Horace.
You should have surrendered."
Horace didn't look back.
He slammed the maintenance door behind us—
just as Lucian's men reached it.
We plunged into the darkness of the tunnels.
The Tunnels of the Fallen
The maintenance door slammed shut behind us—loud enough to rattle the rusted pipes lining the tunnel walls.
Then—
darkness.
Cold, stale, suffocating darkness.
For a moment, no one breathed.
Not because we forgot—
but because the air felt wrong.
Thick.
Heavy.
Damp like something decaying.
Then Rowan fumbled desperately with his tablet.
"Lights—lights—come on—come ON—!"
A weak bluish glow flickered to life.
Enough to reveal:
Cracked concrete.
Dripping pipes.
A narrow corridor stretching into a maze of shadow.
Chandler muttered,
"Okay. EW. This place smells like old gym socks and depression."
But Cassian didn't joke.
He was on his knees beside Aiden, who was half-conscious, panting hard and shaking.
"Rowan," Cassian whispered, voice breaking,
"help him. Please."
Rowan dropped to his side instantly, scanning Aiden with trembling hands.
"He's burning out. His system is overloaded. He's reacting to everything at once."
Cassian grabbed Aiden's wrist tightly.
"Come on—look at me—look at me, you idiot, don't shut down—"
Aiden blinked sluggishly, eyes unfocused.
"…Elle…" he rasped.
Cassian flinched, tears slipping down his cheeks.
"Don't—don't say her name right now—just breathe—okay?—just breathe—"
But Aiden's eyes flicked toward me, even in the dim light.
Instinct.
Always instinct.
Horace stepped between us in a second—calm, steady, protective.
"Elleanore," he said softly,
"stay with me."
He pulled me slightly behind him, making sure my scent didn't wash over Aiden again.
My chest tightened with guilt.
"This is my fault."
"No," Horace said instantly.
"Not one part of this is your fault."
Rowan looked up grimly.
"Horace is right. Aiden was collapsing long before tonight. Lucian's interference triggered him, not Elleanore."
Cassian trembled harder.
"He's getting worse. We need to move."
He wasn't wrong.
Lucian's soldiers wouldn't take long to break through the busted maintenance lock.
Rowan stood and pointed down the tunnel.
"This way."
The corridor yawed open into darkness.
The Maze of Sublevels
The deeper we went,
the colder it got.
The stale air hung thick in my lungs.
The sound of dripping water echoed endlessly.
Every few meters, the walls were marked with faded paint:
B-2 STORAGE
B-3 CLOSED ACCESS
OLD WING — DO NOT ENTER
Cassian supported Aiden's weight, half-dragging him.
Chandler walked ahead with Rowan, cracking a glow stick and shaking it desperately.
"…This thing is older than my great-grandmother. Why is it so dark—hello?—maintenance guys?—WANT TO DO YOUR JOB?"
It helped lighten the tension—barely.
Horace carried me again when my legs buckled.
He didn't ask permission.
He didn't hesitate.
He just moved.
I curled weakly against his chest, exhausted, scent still unstable.
He kept one hand pressed to my back, steady and warm.
"Elleanore," he murmured,
"tell me if anything feels wrong."
"Everything feels wrong."
He exhaled—a tiny, pained laugh.
"Fair point."
Rowan slowed suddenly.
"Stop."
Horace stopped mid-stride.
Chandler halted.
Cassian stumbled to a shaky stillness with Aiden.
Rowan lifted the tablet higher, scanning the walls.
The screen flickered—
then glowed with a pulsing red warning.
Chandler leaned over his shoulder.
"That does NOT look friendly."
Rowan whispered, voice tightening,
"This tunnel connects to something sealed. Something old."
Cassian frowned. "Old like… what? Abandoned?"
Rowan hesitated.
"…Omega wing."
Silence fell like a dropped stone.
Horace stiffened.
"Elleanore's not going through there."
Rowan shook his head quickly.
"It's not an active wing. It's collapsed. Years ago. Long before any of us were enrolled."
Chandler blinked.
"So why's it dangerous?"
Rowan pointed to the pulsing warning.
"Residual scent contamination."
Cassian paled. "Meaning?"
Rowan swallowed.
"Scent ghosts."
Chandler shuddered.
"Okay—EW again—but what does that actually mean?"
Rowan looked between the group carefully.
"It means the walls remember."
A cold chill swept through me.
Horace's grip tightened on me instinctively.
Rowan continued.
"Collapsed Omega wings sometimes trap scent signatures. Strong ones. When enough Omega scent gets pressed into enclosed spaces over time… it clings."
He swallowed.
"And sometimes… reacts."
Cassian looked horrified.
"So it'll—what—mess with Aiden?"
"Not just Aiden," Rowan whispered.
"Any Alpha. Any Omega. Anyone with instincts."
Chandler took a step back.
"Oh yeah, let's DEFINITELY NOT GO IN THERE."
But Rowan lifted the tablet higher.
"It's the only path Lucian's soldiers can't breach. These tunnels weren't built with modern architecture. The walls are too thick. They won't know where we went."
Horace exhaled slowly.
"Will she be safe in there?"
Rowan looked at me.
At my unstable scent.
My trembling hands.
My half-broken suppressants.
Then at Horace.
"…She'll be safer in there than anywhere Lucian can reach."
Horace didn't hide the fear in his eyes.
"Elleanore—are you okay with this?"
I swallowed hard.
"Do we have another choice?"
"No," Rowan answered softly.
Horace lowered his forehead to mine—
briefly.
Barely.
Softly.
"I'm with you," he whispered.
"Always."
My breath hitched.
Rowan pressed his hand to the rusted door.
"Then brace yourselves."
The Omega Wing Remnants
When the door groaned open,
the stale air hit us like a physical force.
Warm and cold at once.
Sweet and sharp.
Faint.
Lingering.
A scent not from a person—
but from years ago.
Chandler gagged.
"UGH—it's like… flowery decay—what IS that—?"
Rowan whispered solemnly,
"Leftover Omega scent. From an old dorm wing."
Cassian adjusted Aiden's weight as Aiden shook weakly.
Aiden whispered, voice strangled,
"…don't like… don't like this… too many scents… too many…"
Cassian stroked his hair shakily.
"I know—I know—just a little more, okay? I'm right here."
Horace stepped inside first.
His scent rose instantly, protective, steady—
trying to drown out the memory-smell around us.
He pressed a hand over my ear.
"Elleanore—stay close."
My voice wavered.
"Horace… what if my scent reacts?"
"It won't," he said, too quickly.
Rowan corrected gently,
"It might."
Horace shot him a glare.
"I was trying to reassure her."
Rowan sighed.
"She needs honesty, Horace, not false calm."
Cassian nodded.
"He's right… we need to know what we're facing."
Horace exhaled slowly, shifting me so my head rested against his chest.
"Fine. But honesty doesn't mean fear."
Rowan stepped deeper, scanning every inch.
"The scent ghosts here are weak. Old. Fading. But if Elleanore's threshold spikes again… they might respond."
Chandler squinted.
"Respond how—exactly?"
Rowan bit his lip.
"By amplifying her."
Horace froze mid-step.
Chandler's eyes widened.
"So she'll get STRONGER?"
"Yes."
Rowan hesitated.
"Too strong."
A shiver crawled down my spine.
Cassian whispered,
"We have to keep moving. If we stop, Aiden—"
Aiden groaned again, muscles tensing.
Rowan nodded.
"Yes. We move. Quickly."
—
The Collapse Corridor
We followed a narrow walkway where half the wall had caved in. Concrete chunks littered the floor. Rusted metal pipes stuck out like broken ribs.
Horace carried me with one arm and used the other to shield us from debris.
Chandler nearly tripped twice but kept going.
Cassian murmured soothingly to Aiden.
Rowan led the way, tablet flickering.
The air grew thicker.
Sweeter.
Warmer.
Horace stiffened.
"Elleanore—"
I clutched his shirt.
"Horace… something's… pulling."
Rowan spun around.
"Her scent is responding—GO FASTER—!"
Cassian's voice cracked.
"Aiden's getting worse—HURRY—PLEASE—!"
A low rumbling echoed behind us.
Chandler pushed Rowan.
"MOVE BEFORE SOMETHING COLLAPSES ON OUR HEADS!"
Horace sped up—
until suddenly—
Rowan held up his arm.
"STOP!"
Horace skidded to a halt.
"What—?!"
Rowan pointed ahead.
To the floor.
A crack.
Thin.
Spanning the next ten meters.
Beneath it, warm air pulsed.
Alive.
Almost breathing.
Chandler whispered,
"Oh hell no—what IS THAT—"
Rowan's voice went cold.
"That is the old scent bay."
Horace tensed, understanding instantly.
"Rowan—tell me there's another way."
"There isn't," Rowan whispered.
Cassian's voice cracked.
"Aiden can't cross—he'll collapse—he'll—"
Aiden whispered something faint.
"…Elle… scent… too strong…"
Horace swallowed hard.
"Elleanore, listen to me."
I forced my eyes open.
"Yes…"
He brushed a thumb across my cheek, voice low and pained.
"When we cross that section… your scent will spike."
I nodded shakily.
"And Aiden—"
Cassian stiffened.
"…won't handle it," Horace finished quietly.
Cassian's breath shattered.
"No—
NO—
Horace—I can't—he's all I—he's my family—you CAN'T—"
Horace's voice softened.
"Cassian… I'm not leaving him."
Cassian blinked rapidly, tears streaming.
"Then WHAT—?! WHAT DO WE DO—?!"
Rowan whispered,
"We separate."
Cassian froze.
Chandler froze.
Even Aiden froze.
Rowan continued.
"Horace takes Elleanore forward.
Cassian takes Aiden through the maintenance chute bypass on the lower level.
Chandler comes with me so I can break the sensors."
Cassian whispered,
"You… you want me to take Aiden alone?"
Rowan nodded.
"You're the only one who can keep him calm."
Cassian broke.
He wrapped both arms around Aiden's shaking body, sobbing.
"Aiden, I—I don't want to leave them—I don't want to leave YOU—"
Aiden's fingers twitched weakly against Cassian's shirt.
"…don't… leave…"
Cassian cried harder.
Horace placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We'll meet at the other side.
I promise."
Cassian shook.
"You swear—?"
Horace met his eyes.
"I swear on the Frinton crest.
I will get her out."
Cassian closed his eyes.
"For Elliot," he whispered.
"For Elliot," Horace echoed.
Rowan broke the tension.
"We don't have time—MOVE!"
Cassian pulled Aiden toward the lower tunnel.
Chandler took Rowan's arm.
Horace lifted me again, heart beating hard.
"Elleanore," he whispered,
"You stay with me.
No matter what you smell.
No matter what the walls do.
No matter what your body tells you."
I nodded.
"Okay."
Horace inhaled deeply.
Then he stepped toward the cracked floor.
Toward the scent bay.
And the walls whispered with memory-scent—
As if the ghosts of Omegas past were waking.