I remember the smell of lavender and fresh grass. Helena had dragged me into the garden that morning, determined to make a “healing circle” out of wildflowers. I’d protested, of course—I hated gardens. Not because of the dirt, really, or even the work. I just didn’t like being down there with the bugs.

  I would’ve rather been in the sky with the birds. Always.

  “Come on, Zoe,” Helena had said, tugging on my arm. “You can fly after. Just one more flower ring.”

  So I knelt in the grass beside her, tracing lazy circles in the dirt, eyes always drifting upward—wondering how long it would be before I could stretch my wings.

  Back then, everything felt like it would last forever. The warm sun, the guardians’ laughter echoing through the compound, Leander and Ella arguing over who could climb higher, Peter trying to organize us into something resembling a team.

  And then—

  A sound split the sky. Like thunder, only sharper. Closer. Real.

  Screams tore through the air, overlapping with a roar I still hear in my dreams.

  I froze. Everyone did.

  Damian grabbed my hand so tightly I thought he might break it. “Stay with me,” he whispered. His voice was shaking worse than mine.

  The compound had alarms—bells that meant fire, drills, emergencies. But no one rang them.

  We didn’t need the bells. The monsters were already inside.

  Flashes of silver caught my eye—blades, teeth, something leaping across the rooftops. One of the cabins exploded in flames. Stephen tried to run toward it—Angelina was inside—but Guardian Kael caught him by the collar and threw him behind a shield of wind and fire.

  Kael and Myla didn’t hesitate. They sprinted toward the chaos, swords drawn, shouting orders, holding the line like the heroes from bedtime stories. I saw Kael take down something enormous—shadowy, too many eyes—before it pinned him beneath its weight.

  I never saw him again.

  But Guardian Thalos—he ran straight to us.

  “Zoe! Damian! Peter! All of you—now!” His voice was iron, cutting through panic like a blade. “We trained for this. We move, we survive. Go!”

  There was no time to argue. No time to cry.

  We ran.

  Well, they ran. I flew.

  It was instinct, not strategy—my golden wings burst open before I knew what I was doing. I shot into the air, skimming treetops, scanning for danger. Thalos had told me not to draw attention to my wings, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I needed to know we’d all make it out.

  From above, I could see them—my family, sprinting beneath the trees. Hector carrying Ella. Leander gripping Helena’s hand. Peter leading the way like he had a compass for a heart. I remember how small they all looked from the sky. How breakable.

  I remember the smell of smoke.

  When we reached the edge of the forest, we collapsed in a circle, gasping for air. I landed hard—my legs were shaking. We counted heads. We called names.

  “Stephen?”

  “Angelina?”

  Nothing.

  They weren’t with us.

  Thalos didn’t answer when we asked where they were. He just looked back toward the fire, jaw clenched, knuckles white.

  “What happened to them?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

  He looked me in the eye. “They’re gone.”

  Gone.

  The word felt wrong. Too easy. Too empty.

  Peter dropped to his knees. Damian didn’t speak for days. Xandor punched a tree so hard it splintered—and still didn’t cry.

  The next morning, Thalos broke us apart.

  “It’s not safe for you to stay together,” he said, kneeling so he could look us in the eyes. “Too many of you in one place… they’ll find you.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  We didn’t understand, not fully. But we obeyed.

  He gave us new names. New stories. New “parents.” He scattered us across the country in pairs, slipping us into lives we didn’t belong to. Told us not to write. Not to look. Not to hope.

  And every year, he moved us again. Every year, another goodbye.

  He was the only one who knew where everyone was.

  The only one who remembered our real names.

  The only one who still called me Zoe.

  I used to dream of that day over and over, hoping the ending would change. That Stephen and Angelina would make it out with us. That the compound would still be there, lavender and laughter and golden leaves.

  But dreams don’t change the past.

  And monsters never forget.

  This isn’t how I thought my life would be.

  When I was a kid—before the compound burned and everything shattered—I thought I’d grow up fighting monsters. I thought I’d be side by side with the others, all eleven of them. I imagined us strong, fierce, unstoppable. Protecting people who didn’t even know we existed.

  But that was before.

  Before Stephen and Angelina were killed.

  Before we were split up.

  Before we started pretending to be human.

  Now, I wake up in a town so small it doesn’t even show up on some maps. I go to school under a name that isn’t mine. I do homework I don’t care about, eat lunch with kids who will never know me, and pretend not to notice the wings folded tightly against my back.

  I haven’t flown in weeks. Not really. Not where someone could see.

  Helena’s the only one who knows the truth—her and Thalos.

  We see him once a year. No more, no less. He never stays long. Never answers questions. But when he arrives, we pack up everything. New home, new name, new life. Again.

  And today… today is that day.

  I stare at my reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror, pulling my hair into a low ponytail to hide the shimmer of gold feathers at my nape. They’ve started growing higher along my spine again. I’ll have to trim them.

  It’s funny, the things I’ve gotten good at hiding. My name. My wings. My power. Who I really am. What I really want.

  “Zoe—” Helena’s voice cuts through my thoughts. She always uses my real name when we’re alone.

  She had her duffel packed and sitting by her feet, arms crossed, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.

  “He’s late,” she said.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  Thalos was never late.

  Not in ten years. Not once. Not for a single one of us.

  I dropped my bag beside hers and sat on the edge of the couch, wings aching under the pressure of the hoodie I’d thrown on. I kept my eyes on the window even though I knew I wouldn’t see anything out there. He never arrived the same way twice.

  Helena stood near the window, fingers brushing gently against the leaves of the lush plants scattered around the house. Small flowers bloomed and vines coiled around her fingertips, responding instinctively to her touch, though her eyes never left the clock.

  “He probably just got caught up,” she said, more to herself than to me. “Long drive. Or flight. Or teleportation. Or whatever dramatic thing he’s doing this year.”

  I tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out right.

  Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty.

  Helena’s hands stilled against the plants, her fingers tightening slightly on a delicate vine. “Maybe something’s wrong.”

  The words hit harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to deny it—to tell her we’d be fine, that Thalos had a plan—but the second I blinked, my world tilted.

  Something sharp pierced the back of my mind.

  I staggered and grabbed the edge of the couch, breath catching.

  Helena rushed to me. “Zoe?”

  My vision flickered, and my heart thundered in my chest, panic rising. It felt as though invisible hands gripped my mind, pulling me somewhere else. I’d never felt anything like this before—never even known it was possible.

  Smoke.

  Stone.

  Blood.

  A forest burning—trees crumbling to ash, and in the center of it all, Thalos kneeling. Bleeding. Sword broken beside him. His hand pressed desperately to his side, trying to hold something in. His eyes, wild and glowing, locked with mine even though I wasn’t there.

  Zoe.

  My name echoed like a whisper inside my skull. It wasn’t just hearing it; I felt it, an alien sensation filling my head, shaking my very bones. Fear surged through me. Telepathy? Was that what this was? How was he doing this?

  “Zoe!” Helena was holding me now, voice full of fear. “What’s happening?”

  Another flash. Sharper, clearer.

  A monster—something massive, something ancient—stalking toward him through the fire.

  Thalos’s lips moved. I strained desperately to hear, but no sound came, only the crushing weight of his pain and urgency pressing into my mind.

  And then—

  Run.

  Just that. One final command. Not shouted. Not spoken. Just… placed into my mind, clear and firm, like steel cutting through silk.

  I gasped as the vision shattered, and reality came crashing back. My knees buckled, and Helena tightened her grip to keep me standing.

  The room was painfully quiet. Helena’s hands trembled on my arms, the hum of the refrigerator roared in my ears, the clock ticking was deafening.

  “Zoe, please, talk to me,” Helena begged, her voice breaking with fear. “What just happened?”

  I swallowed hard, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat. “Thalos… he’s dying. Something attacked him. Something powerful—ancient. It was hunting him, and it—it knows about us. It was looking for us too.”

  Helena went pale, eyes wide with horror. “How… how do you know?”

  “I don’t know how, but I could feel it,” I said, my voice shaking. “And he’s close. He wasn’t far from here. Helena, we need to leave. Now.”

  We grabbed our bags, hands shaking, hearts racing, and ran to the car parked outside. Helena drove, eyes fixed ahead with fierce determination. I sat in the passenger seat, gripping my knees to steady myself, dread pooling in my stomach. Neither of us spoke. What could we even say?

  After driving for what felt like forever but was probably less than an hour, a dark column of smoke curled above the distant treeline. My heart clenched painfully—this was it. The place from my vision.

  “Helena,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “this is where he was attacked.”

  Helena slowed the car, her gaze shifting from the smoke to me and back again. “We have to go check,” she said quietly but firmly. “He might still be alive. If he is, maybe I can help—I can heal him.”

  My throat tightened. My every instinct screamed to run, to hide, to keep driving and never look back. But this was Thalos. He’d spent his life protecting us. Protecting me.

  I couldn’t abandon him now.

  Despite the fear clawing at my chest, I nodded.

  Helena hit the gas, steering the car straight toward the towering pillar of smoke.