Episode 11
1939 Words
The Escape
Kael didn’t look back.
Not when alarms began to scream down the hallway. Not when footsteps echoed behind them, boots slamming against cold tile. Not even when Isla whimpered softly in his arms, her fingers curled weakly against his chest.
He just moved. Fast, focused and silent.
His bare feet barely touched the floor. Blood smeared his jaw, his knuckles were torn open, but none of it mattered. The only thing that did—the only thing that ever had since the moment he met her—was getting Isla out.
She clung to him, barely conscious, the drug still clouding her system. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he ducked into a shadowed corridor, away from the main exits.
“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Just a little longer.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Where… are we?”
“Beneath the labs. Old tunnels. They don’t check them anymore.”
“Kael… they were going to…”
“I know.”
She felt it—the tension in his body, the restraint in his grip. He could break through walls. She’d seen it. But he held her like she was made of glass.
It terrified her more than the facility ever had.
Because it meant he cared.
And nothing about this place let things live when they were cared for.
They reached an old storage alcove, a forgotten space behind a rusted utility door Kael kicked in with one sharp blow. He stepped inside, set Isla down gently on an overturned crate, and closed the door behind them.
Silence pressed around them, broken only by the hum of pipes and her shallow breathing.
Isla leaned back, eyelids fluttering. “Are we… safe here?”
“For now,” Kael said. “They won’t check this far down.”
She looked around the dark room. It was just crates, rusted metal shelves, and dust.
“You’ve been here before.”
His jaw flexed. “Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Too long.”
Her voice cracked. “Why did you come for me?”
Kael looked away.
“Kael.”
“I felt you,” he said finally. “Then I didn’t. And I knew something was wrong.”
She closed her eyes. “They drugged me. Strapped me down. I heard them talking about… cutting something out of me. A gene. Moonborn.”
His hand clenched on his knee. “You weren’t supposed to know yet.”
“But it’s true.”
“Yes.”
“And my mother?”
He nodded slowly. “She was one of them. They tried to suppress it in you, but something triggered the bond.”
Isla drew in a shaky breath. “You.”
His silence was answer enough.
Kael stared at the floor. “It wasn’t supposed to be you.”
“Too late for that,” she whispered.
They didn’t rest long.
Kael helped her stand, slinging her arm over his shoulders, and guided her into a narrower passage lit only by dull emergency lines along the floor. The walls sweated with age, and the air smelled like damp metal and decay.
“Where are we going?” Isla asked softly.
“There’s a maintenance exit near the edge of the woods.”
She nodded, then after a long beat, whispered, “You said it wasn’t supposed to be me. What did you mean?”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “You weren’t meant to be dragged into this.”
“But I was.”
He stopped walking.
His voice was lower now. Hoarse. “You were light. Quiet. Your world didn’t have cages or rituals or monsters in it. I’ve seen what this bond does. I’ve seen what it costs. And you…”
He looked at her then, and there was something broken in his expression.
“You deserve a chance to live without it.”
She blinked at him. “Do you regret it?”
“I regret hurting you.”
Her breath hitched.
Before either of them could say more, a shout echoed from behind.
Kael spun, pulled her behind a wall niche.
Footsteps. Voices. A flashlight beam swung past the hallway.
She pressed against him, trembling. His arm braced around her waist, breath steady.
“Let them pass,” he whispered.
She looked up. “And then?”
“We run.”
The guards passed. Their voices faded, swallowed by the tunnel.
Kael waited a full minute before pulling Isla forward again. They moved quickly this time, deeper into darkness, her footsteps light, his almost silent.
After several turns, the tunnel opened into a wider chamber, a utility access hub. In the center stood a thick steel gate, sealed with rusted locks and lined with silver.
Kael swore under his breath. “They reinforced it.”
“Can we get through?”
He tested the door with his hand and hissed. The silver sizzled against his palm.
Isla stepped forward. “Let me try.”
He stared at her. “It’ll hurt.”
She smiled faintly. “You think that’s new?”
Her fingers fumbled over the latch. The metal burned, but she didn’t let go.
Kael watched her in silence, his chest rising and falling hard.
When it clicked free, she stumbled back. He caught her.
“Stubborn girl,” he muttered.
She leaned against his chest. “Didn’t want to give them a reason to say I’m weak.”
“You’re not.”
There was a softness in his voice she hadn’t heard before.
The gate creaked open. Night air swept in like a breath of salvation.
They stepped out into the forest.
The first time Isla had felt truly free in days.
She didn’t cry.
But her fingers gripped Kael’s tighter than she meant to.
And he didn’t let go.
The forest wrapped around them like a whisper.
Kael kept them moving beneath the cover of trees, the path rough and half-forgotten. Branches snapped beneath his feet, but he never stumbled. Isla followed close, breath hitching when her shoes sank into wet moss or cracked bark.
“How much farther?” she asked, voice low.
“Close.”
“How did you know where to go?”
“I didn’t forget where they left me to rot,” he replied softly. “But I built my escape route long before they knew I was thinking.”
She didn’t ask what that meant.
He slowed finally, parting dense undergrowth to reveal a slanted cabin carved into the side of a hill. Wooden walls. Moss-coated roof. One dim light flickering above the door.
“This is it?”
Kael nodded. “Safe enough.”
He opened the door and stepped aside, letting her go first.
Isla hesitated, then crossed the threshold.
She took two steps in and stopped.
Something was wrong.
The room was quiet, dusty and undisturbed.
But the kettle on the small iron stove was still warm.
And a cup sat on the table, half full.
Kael stepped in behind her.
His eyes scanned the room, narrowing. “No one’s supposed to be here.”
“Then who was?” Isla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael sniffed the air, his expression going still.
Suddenly he became cold.
“That scent…” he said, voice darkening.
“What is it?”
His eyes turned molten.
“Vespera.”
Kael’s entire body went still.
Isla took a step back toward the door, but he raised a hand to stop her.
“Don’t move.”
Her heart slammed in her chest.
“Kael…..”
“She was here,” he said. “Not long ago.”
He moved across the room, sniffing the edge of the tea cup, touching the chair’s back like it might tell him something. His hands were steady, but his jaw was tight enough to c***k.
“Why would she come here?” Isla whispered.
“She knew this was my fallback. She’s making a point.”
“What kind of point?”
Kael looked up, eyes meeting hers. “That she’s always one step ahead.”
A chill crept down Isla’s spine.
“You think… she knew you’d bring me here?”
“She wanted me to,” he said. “Or she wanted you to see this.”
He ran a hand through his wet hair, pacing. “This was supposed to be safe.”
Isla swallowed. “Kael, what if this is just the beginning?”
He looked at her for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes.
“Then we stop playing defense,” he said, voice low and certain. “And we start making them afraid.”
But even as he said it, she saw the flicker of doubt in his gaze.
He wasn’t just afraid for her.
He was afraid of her.
Though neither of them would say it out loud.
Not yet.
Later, they sat in silence.
Kael had lit a small fire in the hearth. The warmth barely reached the corners of the room, but Isla still felt safer with it burning.
She sat cross-legged on a wool blanket, watching the flames dance. Kael knelt beside her, gently wrapping gauze around her wrist. His touch was careful. Almost reverent.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Their eyes met. None of them looked away.
“I don’t think I can ever go back to normal,” she said, voice barely above a breath. “Even if I wanted to.”
“There is no normal after this,” Kael replied. “Only choice.”
“What did you choose?”
His fingers paused.
“Survival.”
She nodded slowly. “And if I don’t want to just survive?”
He looked at her then, fully. “Then I’ll protect whatever you choose to become.”
The weight of those words pressed into her chest.
She reached up, almost unconsciously, and brushed a lock of wet hair from his face.
Kael flinched, like the touch burned him.
She pulled her hand back. “Sorry.”
“No,” he said quickly. “It’s not you.”
“Then what?”
He stood abruptly, moving toward the fire. “You don’t know what I am when I lose control.”
“Then show me,” she said.
His head turned. The firelight caught the scar near his throat. “You might not want me after you see it.”
“I never said I wanted you now.”
The silence that followed felt like a fracture.
But neither corrected it.
Kael stepped outside, muttering something about checking the perimeter.
Isla watched him go, the door clicking shut behind him.
Silence returned. But this time it wasn’t comforting.
She stood, rubbing her arms, walking slowly around the edges of the room. Her fingers drifted over old books, shelves lined with empty jars, a cracked mirror leaning against the wall.
Her reflection looked hollow. Pale. Not hers.
She moved to the table where the tea cup still sat.
The warmth was gone, but the scent remained. It smelt like lavender. Faint and lingering.
She picked it up, sniffed, and recoiled.
It wasn’t just tea.
There was something else beneath it.
A metallic tang. Bitter.
A sound behind her made her freeze.
Isla heard a loud breath.
Not hers.
Slowly, she turned toward the shadows near the back room.
“Kael?” she whispered.
No answer.
The fire cracked. A board groaned.
She took one step back.
Then two.
A hand reached from the dark and covered her mouth.
- Writer
