Invisible walls
1556 Words
Rowen’s POV
Physically, she was healed.
Kali had done what no doctor could. The bruises faded. The wounds knitted together. Her skin was whole again.
But the thing about scars… the worst ones never show on the outside.
Some days, I could almost forget.
She'd smile. Tease Luca. Lean against Jace like she used to before everything cracked open. There were these perfect, fleeting moments where it was easy to believe that maybe just maybe she was coming back to us.
But then something would shift.
A door creaking too fast. The scent of unfamiliar cologne. The scrape of a shoe against tile.
And just like that, she was gone again.
Not physically. Not visibly.
But she’d vanish into herself like the world was something she couldn’t survive. Not unless she disappeared from it first.
Today was supposed to be a quiet day. Rest. Routine. Normal.
I’d gone into her room to drop off the hoodie she loved left it in the lounge last night and noticed her phone was missing. She always left it on the nightstand.
The bathroom light was on.
I knocked gently. “Savannah?”
No answer.
My stomach dipped.
Something… felt off.
I opened the door.
She didn’t hear me come in.
Didn’t even flinch.
She was standing in front of the sink, sleeves rolled up, razor in hand.
Frozen.
Trembling.
Tears streaming silently down her cheeks.
She hadn’t done it. Not yet.
But she was going to.
And I think some part of her hated that she needed to.
“Savannah,” I said softly.
Her head jerked slightly barely. Like she’d forgotten I existed. Like she'd only just returned to the room herself.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Except… it is.”
I didn’t move closer. Not yet.
I just spoke. Calm. Low. “Talk to me.”
Her hand was still shaking.
But the razor was still in her grip.
“Kali stopped me,” she said, swallowing hard. “She took control for just a second. I think she knew I wasn’t okay. She knew what I was thinking before I even finished the thought.”
“She saved you,” I said.
She gave the faintest nod.
“But you still wanted to,” I added quietly. “Even if you didn’t.”
She blinked. “It’s not about dying. It’s about… feeling something I can control." Because everything else every breath, every memory feels like it belongs to him.”
My throat tightened.
“I know,” I said. “I know it doesn’t go away overnight.”
She looked at me then.
Really looked.
Eyes hollow and wet and so full of pain I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t want to keep being like this,” she whispered. “But sometimes it’s like… it’s the only version of me I can find.”
I took a careful step forward.
Held out my hand.
Not demanding.
Just offering.
“Let us help you find the rest of you again,” I said. “The pieces you buried. The ones that are still yours.”
Her fingers curled around mine.
Small. Cold. Real.
I took the razor from her gently and dropped it in the trash. Then I wrapped her in my arms and held her through the storm she couldn’t name.
And I realized something I hadn't let myself before:
Kali could heal her body. But healing her soul?
That was going to take time.
And help.
Real help.
And we were nowhere near the end of this war.
Luca’s POV
We didn’t ask.
We didn’t negotiate.
Savannah was coming home with us.
To the palace.
She tried to protest softly, barely above a whisper, one look shut her down. Not because we were angry. But because she saw it: the absolute in our eyes.
This wasn’t about control.
It was about survival.
Her survival.
“You don’t get to be alone with those thoughts anymore,” Jace had said, his tone calm but final.
“Not while we’re still breathing,” Rowen added.
We moved her things quietly. The nurses didn’t question us. They wouldn’t have dared. Three alpha-borns with storm in their veins? No one stood in our way.
Savannah didn’t fight us.
Not really.
She was too tired. Too raw. Too shattered behind the brave face she wore like armour.
The car ride was silent.
But her hand never left mine.
When we got to the palace, she hesitated just outside the gates like the place didn’t belong to her.
“You’re our mate,” I said gently. “That makes it yours too. Always has.”
She didn’t speak. Just stepped through with us, her footsteps light, almost reluctant.
The second we got her inside, we set the plan in motion.
Step one: Help. Professional, daily, non-negotiable. Therapy tailored for survivors. Not a band-aid. Real healing.
Step two: Answers. Because someone did this. Someone hurt her and hid behind a title or a badge or a false sense of loyalty. And that someone was still breathing.
That wouldn’t last.
All three of us agreed.
We’d find him.
And we’d end him.
That part wasn’t up for debate.
But right now, right here, our focus was her.
She looked around the palace like she didn’t know where she belonged, her eyes flitting between corridors she used to run through like they were safe.
Rowen came up behind her and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t have to pretend here, Savannah. You’re allowed to hurt.”
Jace added, “And we’ll be here through every second of it. Every breakdown. Every flashback. Every breath.”
Savannah turned to face us, eyes glassy. “What if it gets worse before it gets better?”
I stepped closer. “Then we stay through the worst.”
“You’re our mate,” Jace said again, like it was gospel.
“The only thing you have to accept,” Rowen added.
“And we’re not going anywhere,” I finished.
We wouldn’t let her slip.
Not into silence.
Not into self-harm.
Not into the hands of the memories that tried to claim her.
She was home now.
And this time, home had claws.
And love.
And vengeance waiting to be unleashed.
Jace’s POV
The palace had never felt this quiet.
Not even during the dead of night or the weight of war.
Savannah was here.
Our mate was finally home.
We should’ve been high on it, drunk off her scent in the halls, off the echo of her laughter, the promise of what was meant to be ours.
Instead?
She was in her own room.
Not alone. Never alone.
But not with us.
Not the way we craved.
Not the way our wolves howled for.
Rowen sat on the edge of the couch, still as stone, his eyes locked on the door like he could will her to come through it. Luca paced like he might tear the rug apart, fists clenched, jaw ticking. I was no better rage curled like smoke in my chest, slow and suffocating.
He ruined this.
He stole what should’ve been sacred.
Our mate’s first night with us, and instead of being wrapped in our arms, she was behind walls, ones no one could see, but all of us felt.
We tried.
Moon, we tried.
We let her choose the movie, something soft, something safe.
She barely watched it.
We ran her a bath with salts she liked and the scent of lavender, and she thanked us like we were strangers delivering room service.
We brought her comfort food. Tea. Silence when she needed it.
She wanted for nothing.
Except for freedom. from her own mind.
And us?
We wanted to touch her. To hold her. To feel her without flinches or fear. But every time her eyes dimmed or her smile faltered, we were reminded that this wasn’t about us.
This was about what had been taken.
And our hate for him?
It oozed out of every inch of me. My wolf paced beneath my skin, snarling at the injustice. At the patience, we were forced to show while she bled invisible wounds.
I watched her pull the blanket up to her chin, eyes drifting toward the screen without seeing it, and something inside me cracked.
We were here.
All of us.
But the girl we loved was still somewhere we couldn’t reach.
Luca broke the silence. “This isn’t what I imagined.”
Rowen didn’t look away from the door. “It’s what she needs.”
And me?
I couldn’t speak.
Because I knew the truth.
What she needed wasn’t me. Not yet.
What she needed was time.
It's time to learn that we weren’t him.
It's time to learn that love didn’t mean pain.
It's time to believe that we would never devour her without her asking us to.
So we stayed.
Close, but not touching.
Ready, but restrained.
And when she finally fell asleep, curled under three blankets, her wolf on edge and her body trembling from a storm we couldn’t chase away. we stood outside her door like sentries.
Sworn to her.
And the promise that someday, somehow…
She’d come to us, not because she had to.
But because she wanted to.
- Writer
