Fallen, Then Held
SCARLETT
Immediately the door closed behind them, the sob that I had been holding inside me ripped out.
It was loud and ugly, filled with fear and a sliver of relief.
Relief that I had not been violated or had my body marked by a bunch of unhinged Alphas who kept declaring I was their mate.
I felt no such pull, even though deep down I knew the reason I could not feel it—even if I truly was their mate—was because there was no wolf inside me.
How could I acknowledge a wolf bond with no wolf?
Coming to Silver Oak had been a mistake. I had thought it would be my big break, a chance to become something, to finally be seen. Life had made sure I was seen, all right. Seen by the entire school. Seen by the Triumvirate. And now they would never leave me alone.
The door opened again. My head snapped up, heart slamming against my ribs. I relaxed only a fraction when I saw it was Saint. He stood in the doorway, looking at me with a sad, guilty expression that made my lips wobble. More tears slid down my cheeks.
He stepped forward. I stiffened, bracing for whatever came next. But he walked past me without a word and went straight to the wardrobe a few feet away. He pulled it open, grabbed a shirt, and began putting it on.
So he was not here to do anything to me. Or even to talk. I looked away, up at the window. The sky was lightening. Dawn was breaking. Everything had happened so fast, yet it was already the next day. The sun was coming up.
It was almost over. This sick ritual was almost over.
A deep voice cut through my thoughts. “Here, have this.”
I looked up. Saint stood beside me now, holding out a big dress shirt. It would swallow me whole, but I did not reach for it right away.
He crouched slowly in front of me, bringing his face level with mine. Those blue eyes, usually so intense and animalistic, were soft now. Regretful. His massive frame seemed smaller somehow, shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself less threatening.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. The words sounded rough, unused. “I should have stopped it sooner. I should have protected you better. I promised I would, and I failed.”
My throat tightened. Tears burned fresh. “You… you stopped them in the end.”
“Not soon enough.” He reached out, slow enough that I could pull away if I wanted. I did not. His thumb brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear with surprising gentleness. The pad of his finger was calloused, warm. “You were scared of us. Of me. That hurts more than anything in the Pit ever could.”
I cried harder then, the sobs shaking my whole body. The gentleness from him, after everything, broke something inside me. Before I could think, I fell forward into his arms.
He caught me easily, wrapping those huge arms around me like I was something precious. One hand cradled the back of my head, fingers threading gently through my tangled hair. He stroked slowly, rhythmically, the way someone might soothe a frightened animal.
“My sweet little dove,” he murmured against my hair. His voice was low, rumbling through his chest into mine. “My brave girl. I’ve got you now.”
The pet name hit me soft and warm, unexpected from someone built like a weapon. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of pine and clean sweat and something uniquely him. Safe. For the first time since the Pit, I felt a sliver of safety.
He kept stroking my hair, rocking us slightly.
“We don’t know how to be soft,” he said after a long moment.
“No one was ever soft with us. We grew up fighting for every scrap, every touch, every breath. Rhys and Kane… they only know possession, only know claiming hard and fast because that’s how they survived. But I swear to you, little dove, I will make sure we learn. We will be soft with you. Slow.
Gentle. Whatever you need. Even if it kills us to hold back.”
I nodded against his shoulder, too overwhelmed to speak.
He pulled back just enough to look at me. “Let me put this on you, okay? You’re cold. And you shouldn’t have to sit here like this anymore.”
I nodded again.
His hands were careful as he helped me out of the remnants of my torn clothes.
He did not look down, did not linger. He kept his eyes on mine the whole time, steady and reassuring.
When the last scrap fell away, he slipped the dress shirt over my head.
The fabric was soft, worn from use, and it smelled like him—warm, grounding. It hung past my thighs like a dress.
He buttoned a few of the middle ones, then pulled me back into his lap on the floor, cradling me against his chest. I let my eyes drift closed. Exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. His heartbeat was steady under my ear, a deep, even drum.
“Saint?” My voice was small, barely there.
“Yeah, little dove?”
“Please… help me with one thing.” I swallowed. “Find my friend. Lily. I don’t know where she is. She was with me before… before everything. I need to know she’s okay.”
His arms tightened. “I will find her. I promise. I’ll turn this whole school upside down if I have to.”
Relief washed through me. My eyelids grew heavier. The last thing I felt was his hand still stroking my hair, slow and steady, as sleep finally pulled me under.
*
When I woke, sunlight streamed through a different window. My own dorm room.
I blinked, disoriented. The bed beneath me was mine. The blanket was mine. Everything looked… normal.
No broken door. No shattered glass. No blood on the walls. The room was perfect, like the purge of last night had never happened.
I sat up slowly. My body ached everywhere—bruises, pulled muscles, the deep soreness of terror and adrenaline crash. Milo sat on the edge of my bed, watching me with worried eyes.
He looked rough. Bruises bloomed purple and black across his cheekbones, his lip was split, and one eye was swollen half-shut. But he was alive. Here.
“Milo?”
“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re awake.”
I looked around again. “How… the room. It’s…”
“Yeah.” He gave a tired half-smile. “I know you’re surprised about the state of the room. The only thing you need to know is that it’s magic. Some kind of cleanup crew or spell or whatever the school uses after nights like that. Poof. Gone.”
I nodded, still confused, still processing. My eyes scanned the small space. Three beds. Twhree desks. Mine and…
No sign of Lily.
My stomach dropped. “Milo… where’s Lily?”
He looked down. His jaw worked. Tears gathered in his eyes, bright and sudden.
“Lily…” His voice cracked. “She…”