Chapter 54 Wren
Atlas’s place is quiet in a way that makes me feel louder.
I barely remember the car ride. Kael in the front seat, jaw clenching every time I breathed too unevenly. Finn beside me, holding my hand like letting go would make me disappear. Atlas driving like the world was something he had to outrun.
Now I’m inside Atlas’s apartment—warm, clean, spacious but not lived-in enough—and my brain keeps trying to restart, like an engine that won’t catch.
The door closes behind us.
Something inside me closes too.
Atlas turns every lock.
Kael checks every window.
Finn stays in front of me, eyes never leaving my face.
“Sit,” Kael says gently.
I do.
I sit on Atlas’s couch, my damp hair clinging to my shirt, my hands twisting in my lap. I feel small. Wrong. Like my skin is inside out. Like any second I’m going to shatter into too many pieces for anyone to pick up.
Atlas stands in front of me, breathing too fast. “Did he touch you?”
I shake my head.
Kael steps closer. “Did he threaten you?”
“He...” My voice cracks. I swallow. “Just talked.”
Finn curses under his breath. “Talking is enough.”
Atlas turns away, pacing once, twice, fingers dragging through his hair like he needs pain to concentrate.
I feel all of them at once.
Their rage.
Their fear.
Their guilt.
I feel like the center of a storm I didn’t mean to create.
My throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”
Finn freezes. “Wren. No.”
Atlas whips around. “Don’t ever apologize for him.”
I flinch. Not at the tone—at the truth.
Kael kneels in front of me, steady and calm in a way that scares me more than the panic. “Look at me.”
I try.
I fail.
My eyes sting. My breath stutters. My body shakes so hard I wrap my arms around myself like I can hold the pieces in.
Kael’s voice softens. “Wren. You’re safe.”
I suck in air too fast. “I thought—I thought I could handle it. I thought I was strong enough.”
Finn drops beside Kael, both of them on their knees in front of me, like I’m something holy and breakable.
“You are strong enough,” Finn says. “But no one should have to handle that alone.”
Atlas stands a few feet away, chest rising in sharp, controlled breaths. He looks like he wants to punch the walls until his bones break. Instead, he walks toward me—slow, like I’m something he’s afraid to spook.
He stops in front of me.
“Wren,” he says quietly.
Just my name.
It breaks me.
I fold forward like my ribs gave out. A sob rips through me—loud, messy, ugly—and I cover my face like I’m ashamed to let them see.
They don’t let me hide.
Kael gently pulls my hands away. Finn wraps an arm around my shoulders, warm and trembling. Atlas sits beside me on the couch and presses his thigh against mine, solid and unmoving.
“I can’t—” I gasp. “I can’t stop shaking.”
“You don’t have to,” Kael murmurs.
“He was in my room,” I choke. “He saw me. He—he watched me walk out of the shower—”
Finn makes a broken sound. “Jesus, Wren...”
I press my hands to my forehead. “I was so stupid—”
“You weren’t.” Kael’s tone cuts clean and sharp. “You were living your life.”
“He could’ve—” My voice breaks. “He could’ve hurt me.”
Atlas’s hand finds my back—not tentative, not hesitant, just steady and warm. “He didn’t,” he says quietly. “Because we got there.”
“But if you hadn’t—”
“We did,” Finn interrupts. “We did get there.”
Kael nods. “And we always will.”
I look at all three of them.
Kael’s eyes calm and fierce.
Finn’s soft and devastated.
Atlas’s dark and shaking with fury he’s trying to contain.
Something inside me gives.
Something deeper than fear.
Something older than adrenaline.
“I thought I was alone,” I whisper.
Atlas shakes his head. “You’re not.”
Finn lifts my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “You’ll never be alone again,” he says.
Kael’s hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t feel fall. “Not unless you ask us to be.”
The room blurs.
Their faces blur.
Everything blurs.
And then—
I break.
Fully.
Completely.
Without holding anything back.
I cry in a way I haven’t cried since Denver—loud, shaking, messy, terrified, grieving the girl I was, terrified of the one I’m becoming.
They hold me through all of it.
Finn’s arms around my shoulders.
Kael’s hand steady on my cheek, grounding me.
Atlas’s presence warm and immovable at my back, like if I fall he’ll catch me before the floor knows I’m gone.
I don’t know how long it lasts.
A minute.
An hour.
Forever.
Eventually I slump forward, exhausted, breath hiccuping against Finn’s shirt.
Kael strokes my hair once. “There she is.”
“Still breathing,” Finn whispers.
Atlas leans in close enough that his breath touches my shoulder. “Good.”
I sit up slowly, wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop,” all three say at once.
I laugh—a tiny, broken sound—but a real one.
“I’m scared,” I admit, whisper-small.
“We are too,” Finn says.
Kael nods. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll handle it.”
Atlas’s voice is barely audible. “We’re not losing you.”
I look at them—really look.
Their fear.
Their devotion.
Their anger.
Their heartbreak.
Their tenderness.
Whatever this is between us, it isn’t simple.
And it isn’t going back to what it was.
Not after tonight.
Not after they held me through the worst moment of my life and made me feel like I wasn’t broken for surviving it.
My breath steadies.
“Stay with me,” I whisper.
Finn squeezes my hand. “Nothing could make us leave.”
Kael nods once. “We’re here.”
Atlas doesn’t speak.
He just reaches out, curls his fingers under my chin, and lifts my face until I meet his eyes.
There’s fire there.
And fear.
And something that feels dangerously close to devotion.
“You’re ours to protect,” he murmurs. “All night. All the nights after.”
My heart trips.
I don’t correct him.
I don’t want to.
I rest my head on Finn’s shoulder. Kael sits on the floor leaning against my knees. Atlas stays pressed at my side, solid and unmovable.
And for the first time since the shower, since the towel, since the worst moment of my life—
I don’t feel alone.
I feel carried.
Held.
Claimed.
And safe.
Finally, finally safe.