Chapter 12
Elira
The message came after my evening shower on day three.
I’d barely made it back to my room, every muscle screaming in protest, the weight of the day pressing into my bones.
Dinner in the mess hall had been a blur—I couldn’t even remember what I’d eaten.
Now, I lay sprawled across the bed, still damp, still aching, drifting somewhere between sleep and misery.
That’s when I heard it—paper sliding against wood.
Something slipped under my door.
I groaned, turning my head to glare at it. Maybe if I stared hard enough, it would get the hint and deliver itself. It didn’t.
With a wince, I rolled off the bed and crawled toward it on tired limbs. My fingers closed around the note, crumpled slightly from its journey across the floor.
I unfolded it slowly.
Heard the pipes are acting up again by the fan on three. Might get messy for a little midnight mouse.
My breath caught. My heart was suddenly too loud in my chest, thudding with adrenaline—or something else entirely. Only one person called me that.
Finn.
I trembled, unable to stop the violent shudder rippling through me.
Since training began, my door hadn’t been locked at night—not unless I chose it to be. A gesture of false freedom. We all knew the truth. Escape was impossible.
The building sealed itself from the outside world as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. We could wander the corridors, pace the sterile hallways, even press our hands to the cold glass at the ends of each wing—but that was it. There was no way out.
I didn’t even know where the infirmary was. During the rare occasions we were marched outside to train, I tried to spot it, scanning the uniform grey buildings for a hint of something different. But they were all the same—imposing, indistinct, a maze designed to confuse.
Still, if I was right… if I was right, he knew exactly where I was.
Which meant he could find me.
And maybe, he already had.
The building was warded against magic—an invisible net strung through every hallway and wall, humming just beneath the surface. It wasn’t to keep us safe. It was to make sure that if we fought, we’d do it the old-fashioned way. Fists. Blood. Bone.
I knew there were at least a few others like me on this floor—trainees, recruits, whatever name they wanted to dress it up with. I’d passed them in the hallways, caught glimpses of bruised faces and wary eyes. We didn’t speak. Not unless we had to.
Sometimes, I was sure they placed us closer together on purpose. Close quarters made tempers short, and according to Leo, this wasn’t about teamwork. It was survival of the fittest. And what better way to thin the numbers than by letting us tear each other apart before breakfast?
The worst part? In here, my shadows were useless.
The wards stripped them from me, like peeling a second skin away. I could still feel them—just on the edge of my senses, slithering beneath my skin like smoke sealed in glass—but they couldn’t reach me, not fully. Not where it counted.
And if it came to a fight, all I had were my hands.
And they were already shaking.
I waited. Counting seconds. Minutes. Each tick from the small clock above my bed echoed like a drumbeat in my skull.
Midnight crept closer, slow and deliberate.
Time to go.
I pulled on the thick fleece hoodie that came with my uniform, tugged the hat low over my ears. It did little against the chill that crept through these halls, but it helped me feel smaller. Less noticeable.
The door clicked shut behind me, louder than I’d hoped. I winced, holding my breath.
Next door lived Pike. My shifter sparring partner. Wolf, I was pretty sure. And if the way he looked at me wasn’t enough to confirm his hatred, the way his ears twitched when I so much as breathed too loud certainly did.
I moved fast and light, every step measured. The halls stretched out in eerie silence, and I prayed the shadows I couldn’t summon would still find a way to keep me hidden.
I’d memorized the layout by now. Being marched up and down the corridors every morning by Phoenix or Leo had burned the directions into my brain.
So when I spotted the lift at the end of the hall, I didn’t hesitate—though I still hated the damn thing. Every time those metal doors slid shut, it felt like the air thinned, like the walls pressed a little closer.
But this was for Finn.
I jabbed the button for Level Three and flinched as the lift shuddered to life beneath me, humming like it had secrets.
I shut my eyes and held my breath. Just a few floors. Just a few seconds.
Then I’d see him.
I realized my mistake the moment the lift doors slid open.
The mess hall was alive with chaos. The tables had been cleared away, and a small bar had sprung up along one wall, bottles glittering under the harsh light.
Strobe lights flashed erratically, casting sharp shadows over the crowd.
Music blared from the speakers, thumping in my chest as people danced in the centre of the room.
But it wasn’t the new trainees like me. No, these were the older ones—dressed for something that felt more like a party than training. Dresses, skirts, suits, and glitter. They were letting loose, celebrating, like the place wasn’t a prison at all.
“What the fuck?” I muttered under my breath.
A loud, raucous laugh pierced the noise, and I winced, instinctively pulling back into the shadows.
There, sprawled across a velvet couch like he owned the damn place, was Leo, dressed in an open white shirt that revealed his tanned, muscular chest. Women—at least ten of them—clung to him, each one feeding him grapes or handing him drinks, their adoration practically palpable.
It would have been laughable if it wasn’t so damn unnerving.
I didn’t see Phoenix or Thorne in the crowd, but Slade was impossible to miss.
He stood along the far wall, his figure a dark silhouette against the flashing lights, surveying the room with that cold, calculating gaze of his. He didn’t move—just watched.
When a woman approached him, smiling like she was about to flirt, Slade’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening.
He didn’t speak, but there was a palpable tension in the air, and the low growl that rumbled from him was barely audible, yet it sent a shiver down my spine.
It was a warning. She didn’t need to hear it to know she was trespassing.
She backed off almost immediately, and Slade went back to his silent vigil, unmoved, as if nothing had happened.
I ducked back, pressing myself against the wall, praying they wouldn’t sense me. The bathroom was near the end of the hall. Head down, I slipped through the thinning crowd, each step measured, careful, invisible.
I stepped inside the stark white room, with its multiple stalls stretching down the end of the room. At the end, one door was almost closed, but that wasn’t what drew my attention. On the top corner of the door was a small picture. A mouse.
Little mouse,
“Finn,” I breathed.
I hurried to the stall and opened the door, only to find it empty. Instead, on the floor was a grate, barely wide enough to fit my knee.
Where is he?
A strange knocking sound caught my attention. I paused. It was coming from the grate. Then the barest whisper.
“Elle?”
I crouched down beside the grate, my breath coming quick and shallow, heart racing in my chest. The quiet of the bathroom seemed to magnify the intensity of the moment.
I didn’t know what I’d expected to find, but I didn’t expect this.
I whispered into the dark, barely able to hear myself over the ringing in my ears.
“Finn?”
For a long, agonizing moment, there was nothing. Then, his voice came through the grate, softer than I’d expected but full of relief.
"Little mouse..." His voice broke slightly, like hearing mine again was a lifeline. "I can't believe it's really you. Thought I wouldn't get the chance to hear your voice again."
I leaned in closer, heart pounding against my ribs. “Finn, what’s going on? Where are you? Why can’t I see you? Why can’t we—?”
“I’m in the infirmary bathroom,” he whispered, voice tight. “I have a… friend. Someone who knows this place inside out. They told me how to reach you like this.”
“Are you okay?” My breath hitched. “They wouldn’t let me see you, I’ve been so worried—”
“I know. I thought they locked you in the dungeons. I’ve been losing my mind.” He exhaled shakily. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”
“No more than I expected,” I murmured, the words catching in my throat. “Finn, I miss you. They want to use me. They’re trying to turn me into a Shade—”
“You can’t let them.” His voice sharpened like a blade. “You can’t work for the king, Elle.”
“I don’t know what to do!” I choked, panic swelling. “I don’t know how to get out of here. They watch me constantly—”
“I wish I could be there with you. But…” His voice dropped, urgent. “They’re sending me back to the village. I don’t have a choice.”
My stomach turned to ice. “They’re what?”
“I won’t be able to see you. Not for a while.” He hesitated, then rushed on. “But listen—really listen, okay? You have to stay strong. Don’t make a move unless you’re sure. They’re watching me, too. If you slip up, they’ll use it against both of us.”
I pressed my hand against the cold stone wall, fingers trembling. “Finn, you’re leaving?” The words felt hollow. “But… what if something happens to you? What if I never—?”
“Don’t.” His voice cracked, raw and low. “Don’t say that. I’ll be fine. But I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Stay safe. Stay quiet. Keep your head down. And whatever you do, stay away from the elite Shades. They’re not like the others—they’ll swallow you whole.” He paused, voice thickening with emotion. “Just wait for me. Please.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting back the ache rising in my chest. “You know I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“I know.” He let out a soft, broken sigh. “But this time, you have to. Just once. Just until I can get help.”