The Boy Who Survived
SCARLETT
Kaiden stood a few feet away, staring at me.
His brown eyes, the same wide, gentle brown eyes from my fragmented memories were locked on mine with a mixture of shock, relief, and something much deeper.
He looked exhausted, his usually neat dark hair messy, clothes slightly rumpled, as if he hadn’t slept properly in days.
But it was him. The boy who had carried me through the woods.
The boy who had protected me. The boy who had died in my arms fourteen years ago.
My body moved before my mind could catch up.
I pulled away from the Triumvirate’s hold, gently but firmly and walked toward him on shaky legs. Saint made a soft, confused whine behind me. Kane and Rhys tensed, but they didn’t stop me.
I stopped right in front of Kaiden.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as everything sealed away for fourteen years came crashing down all at once.
*My Scarlett…*
A sob tore from my damaged throat.
No one knew who moved first.
We crashed into each other.
Kaiden’s arms wrapped around me so tightly it almost hurt, pulling me flush against his chest as I buried my face in his neck. He held me like I might disappear again, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other pressed firmly against my lower back.
The moment we touched, it happened.
A burst of static electricity crackled between us. A wave of raw energy rippled outward, stirring the air into a sudden, warm breeze that made the curtains in the hallway flutter. It felt like the world itself exhaled.
Kaiden’s hand stroked through my hair, trembling. His voice was hoarse, broken with years of unspoken pain.
“My Scarlett…”
I clung to him tighter, tears soaking his shirt.
“I remember,” I whispered or tried to. My voice was gone, but the words burned in my chest. “I remember… I remember you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, tears streaking down his own cheeks. His thumb gently stroked my wet face, tracing the path of my tears as if he still couldn’t believe it.
“You remember me?” he breathed, voice cracking.
I nodded frantically, more tears falling.
“Yes… yes, I do.”
For a long moment, the hallway disappeared. There was only us, two broken children who had found each other again after fourteen years of sealed memories and forgotten pain.
Behind me, I could feel the weight of three pairs of eyes, Saint, Kane, and Rhys watching in stunned silence.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Kaiden pressed his forehead against mine, breathing shakily, the same way he had done when we were little.
“I never forgot you,” he whispered. “Not for one day.”
My heart shattered and healed all at once.
******
Now we were sitting in a quiet corner of the infirmary’s private recovery lounge, a small, sunlit room with soft couches and healing crystals glowing gently on the walls.
Kaiden sat beside me, our knees touching.
The Triumvirate surrounded us like a living wall, Saint on my other side, thumb gently rubbing circles over my wrist in a constant, possessive scent-marking rhythm.
Kane stood behind the couch, arms crossed, while Rhys leaned against the wall with his usual calm elegance, golden eyes never leaving Kaiden.
The air was thick with Alpha pheromones and low, rumbling growls that vibrated through the room.
I picked up the notepad and pen Lily had left me, my hand still shaky. I wrote carefully and turned the page toward Kaiden.
How did you survive the gunshots?
He read it. For a long moment, he just stared at the words. Then a bitter, haunted smile tugged at his lips.
“I…I didn’t,” he said quietly.
And then he glanced up at the Triumvirate. Saint’s thumb stilled on my wrist for a second, a deep growl rolling from his chest. Kane’s eyes were pure black. Rhys’s expression remained calm, but the tension in his jaw was unmistakable.
I felt their jealousy, raw, heavy, and territorial. They didn’t like me looking at Kaiden like this. They didn’t like the way my tears fell when I saw him.
But what I felt for Kaiden wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t the wild, consuming pull I sometimes felt toward the Triumvirate.
It was something warmer. Deeper. Like the quiet safety of a childhood promise that had survived hell itself. A soul-deep friendship forged in terror and innocence. A bond that said I knew you when the world was too cruel for both of us.
I reached out and took Kaiden’s hand.
He let me, squeezing gently, eyes glistening, soft and sad and full of years of unspoken longing.
The Triumvirate tensed even more. Saint’s growl turned into a low warning rumble. Kane’s fingers dug into my shoulders. Rhys’s golden eyes narrowed dangerously.
I didn’t let go.
Because right now, Kaiden was the only one who remembered the little girl I used to be, the one who chased butterflies and believed her papa would always save her.
And for the first time in fourteen years, that little girl didn’t feel so alone.
The next two days passed in a blur of white walls, soft voices, and the constant, hovering presence of the Triumvirate.
I spent most of the time in the infirmary, resting, healing, and trying not to think too hard about the flashes of memories that kept surfacing. Kaiden had visited every day, but whenever I wrote *What happened after you were shot?* on the notepad, he would only smile sadly and shake his head.
“Not here,” he’d whisper. “It’s not safe to talk about it yet.”
It was eating me alive.
By the third morning, the academy had arranged transportation for all the surviving students back to their respective packs and homes. The buses were divided by region. Lily and I were on the same one heading toward the southern territories.
The ride was quiet. Most students were exhausted, some still bandaged, others staring out the windows with haunted eyes. I sat beside Lily, my hand in hers, both of us silent.
When the bus finally slowed and stopped at the major junction where roads split toward different pack territories, my stomach twisted with dread.
We stepped off into the open air. A cool breeze blew, tossing my hair across my face. Lily and I stood there, looking at each other. This was it. The point where our paths would separate, she toward her uncle’s pack, me toward mine.
I didn’t want to go back.
I feared facing my father. The memories that were slowly cracking open inside me made my stomach twist. The cold smacks and the way he looked at me like I was the reason my mother was gone.
Lily’s eyes filled with tears at the same time mine did.
At the exact same moment, we both spoke:
“I don’t want to go.”
We stared at each other, then burst into shaky laughter that quickly turned into sniffles.
Lily wiped her eyes. “But… where do we even go? We can’t just run away. We have nowhere…”
Strong arms suddenly wrapped around both of us from behind.
Lily yelped in surprise. I jumped, heart leaping into my throat.
Kane’s deep, warm voice rumbled against my ear, laced with that familiar teasing grin.
“So come stay with us, love.”
I turned my head. Kane was behind me, one arm around my waist, the other loosely around Lily’s shoulders. Rhys stood a step away. Saint hovered right beside us, looking at me with those big, hopeful eyes like he was ready to carry me anywhere I wanted to go.
Lily blinked rapidly, caught between shock and nervous laughter. “You… you can’t be serious.”
Kane chuckled, his expression softening. “Dead serious. Our place is big enough. Just us spoiling you rotten for two whole weeks.”
I looked at Lily. She looked at me.
The fear of going home, the same fear we both carried sat heavy between us.
Saint stepped closer and gently took my hand, squeezing it. His voice was soft. “Stay with us.”
“You’re not going anywhere you don’t want to, darling,” Rhys murmured, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Our pack house is open to you. Always.”
I swallowed hard, my throat still bandaged and aching.
For the first time in a long time, the idea of going “home” felt more terrifying than staying with three psychotic, overprotective Alphas.
Lily let out a watery laugh and leaned into Kane’s side a little. “You guys are insane.”
Kane grinned. “Yeah. But we’re your kind of insane.”
I looked at the road that led toward my father’s pack, then back at the three of them.
And for the first time since the retreat began, I didn’t feel like running away.
I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.