Chapter 33 Theo
Theo
Gray wakes first, like I knew he would. His eyes snap open the moment I touch his shoulder, sharp and immediately alert. No confusion, no disorientation. Just focus.
"Time?" he asks, voice barely a whisper.
"Soon," I murmur back. "Get dressed."
He nods and rolls out of bed in one fluid motion, already reaching for clothes. No questions. He trusts the visions, even when I can't explain them.
Wes is bleary when I shake him awake, blinking up at me with confusion that slowly sharpens into something like concern. His dark eyes search my face, looking for answers I don't have words for yet.
"Theo?" His voice is rough with sleep. "What's happening?"
"I need you to come with me," I say quietly. "Trust me?"
He sits up, runs a hand through his curls, but he's already moving. "Always."
The simple certainty in his voice does something strange to my chest. Warm and tight all at once.
Jace mutters something under his breath that sounds like profanity when I wake him, but his tone shifts the moment he sees my expression. The joke dies on his lips, replaced by the kind of sharp attention that means he's reading the room.
"This isn't a drill, is it?" he asks, pulling on a t-shirt.
"No."
He nods once, grabs his knives from the nightstand. "Lead the way."
Rhett is already awake when I reach his door, sitting on the edge of his bed like he's been waiting. His hazel eyes find mine in the darkness, and I see the recognition there. The understanding that something's shifted.
"How long?" he asks.
"Not long enough."
He stands, shoulders already tense with the kind of controlled energy that makes the air around him feel warmer. "Then let's go."
I pause outside Bree's door, pulling a small piece of polished quartz from my pocket. It's nothing special—just a stone I've carried for years, now worn impossibly smooth by recent visions. But tonight it hums with protective intent as I set it carefully on the floor by her threshold.
A small ward. A whisper of safety while we handle what's coming.
The others watch silently as I straighten, understanding without explanation that some things require ritual. Some protections can't wait.
Thane's room glows softly when we approach, and I'm not surprised to find both him and Stellan already awake.
Thane sits in the chair by the window, shirt half-unbuttoned over his healing bandages, silver eyes reflecting the dim light.
Stellan lounges with his usual poised stillness, one leg crossed, watching Thane with lazy amusement.
They look up as we file in, and I see the exact moment Thane reads my expression. His entire posture shifts, sharpens.
"Forty-six minutes," I say without preamble.
Everyone goes still.
"Before they arrive."
"Who the hell is 'they'?" Jace asks, voice tight.
I meet his eyes, then look around the room at each of them in turn. Gray, alert and ready. Wes, confusion giving way to something darker. Rhett, coiled tension barely contained. Stellan, deceptively relaxed but listening to every word.
And Thane, watching me with an intensity that makes my skin warm.
"That's what we have to find out," I say. "Some aren't Feeders. Some are. Some might not come to join her—they might come to use her."
The words taste bitter, but they're true. I've seen fragments of it in dreams, felt the shape of threat approaching like storm clouds on the horizon.
But there's something else I've seen too. Something that cuts through the darkness of those visions like light.
"She's ready," I continue, and the certainty of it rings in my voice.
Thane straightens slightly. "For what?"
A beat of silence stretches between us.
I pause, letting the weight of what I'm about to say settle in my chest first. Because once I voice it, there's no taking it back. No pretending we don't all feel the pull, the magnetic certainty that's been building between us all.
"She's already chosen most of us," I say quietly. "Even if she doesn't realize it yet."
The reactions are immediate and telling.
Wes visibly shudders, like the words hit something raw and exposed. His hands flex at his sides, and I catch the way his breathing changes. Recognition mixed with fear.
Gray shows no surprise, just the quiet confirmation of something he's been seeing for himself. His jaw ticks once, but his eyes stay steady.
Jace grins like Christmas came early, all sharp edges and delighted anticipation. "Fucking finally," he breathes.
But it's Rhett who surprises me. His entire body goes rigid, hands clenching into fists as something dark and possessive flickers across his expression. Like hearing it said out loud ignited something he's been fighting to keep buried.
Thane goes very still, silver eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes the air feel charged. Something shifts in his expression—not surprise, but recognition. Like he's been waiting for someone else to see what he's already known.
Stellan's mouth curves in that knowing way of his. "And what, exactly, does that have to do with me?"
The question hangs in the air, but I can see the answer in the way he's watching us all. He knows. They all know, on some level.
"She'll need us," I continue, voice softer now but no less certain. "All of us. In every way possible." I let that settle for a moment before adding, "Because whatever's coming—whoever's coming—they won't just be after her power."
That part hadn't been in the earlier visions, not clearly—but I felt it as soon as we stepped into the hallway tonight.
Something was moving. A current already loosed from our control.
Some of the people who witnessed the attack yesterday were already texting, calling, posting. And someone, somewhere, was listening.
It's already begun.
I give them a minute to let that sink in as I watch the understanding dawn in different ways across different faces.
"There are others too," I add. "I don't know if they'll help her... or try to take what she is."
The silence that follows is heavy with implications. With the understanding that whatever's coming, it's bigger than just us. Bigger than the sanctuary, than the Council, than anything we've prepared for.
I turn to Thane, meeting his silver gaze directly. "You know this too, don't you?"
Something shifts in his expression. A slow, sharp smile spreads across his lips, and for the first time since I've known him, it reaches his eyes.
"You're coming along nicely," he says, voice warm with what sounds like approval.
Heat crawls up my neck, but I don't look away. There's something in his tone, in the way he's watching me, that makes my pulse spike in ways I'm not ready to examine.
The moment stretches between us, charged with something I can't name.
Then Thane laughs.
It's the first real laugh I've heard from him. Not cold or cruel or mocking. Just... genuine. Rich and dark and entirely unexpected.
"Fuck," he says, shaking his head. "This is going to be a problem."
But he's still smiling when he says it.
And somehow, I get the feeling he wouldn't have it any other way.