Change of plans

[Rowan's POV]

The next morning, I was ripped from the depths of sleep by the sharp crack of a door slamming shut. My pulse jolted, my breath catching in my throat as the remnants of last night tangled with the haze of waking. He's gone. The thought settled like a stone in my stomach.

The memory of our conversation played on repeat in my mind, every word, every syllable etched into me like scripture. The plan—the escape—was meant to happen in two days.

But that was too far, too risky. Time had become a tightening noose, and if I wanted us to slip through its grasp, I had to act. We would leave tomorrow.

A slow, creeping unease curled around my ribs, something cold and gnawing. I'm almost certain my sweet brother wasn't as deep in sleep as I had hoped. If he heard—if he knew—then time wasn't just slipping away. It was hunting us.

The mere thought of The Watchers sent an icy shiver crawling down my spine. Their eerie stillness, the way their empty eyes seemed to see through flesh and bone—it was unnatural, wrong.

I had to believe we could move faster than Father Gideon, that we could slip away before his influence tightened around us like a noose. But the knowledge gnawed at me—he knew about the hole. Our escape wasn't just a risk; it was a gamble with death itself. Yet, I was willing to see it through, no matter the cost.

As my mind drifted through the carefully woven strands of my plan, it inevitably landed on Elias—my brother. My own flesh and blood. The boy I had sworn to protect. Could I really just leave him behind? The thought twisted inside me like a blade. Something is wrong with him.

Ever since he fell under Father Gideon's wing, his very being had shifted—his words felt rehearsed, his smiles hollow, his eyes distant. It was as if something had reached into him and reshaped him from the inside out.

Could he really have betrayed us so easily? Could he truly abandon me for a man he had only just met?

A heavy silence settled over me as I wrestled with those questions, but no answers came—only an ever-growing sense of unease. My chest felt tight, as if the walls around me were shrinking. Enough. Sitting still wouldn't get us out of here.

With a deep breath, I pushed myself up, the cold floor biting against my skin. There was much to do, and time was slipping through my fingers like sand in a storm.,

As I stepped out of the shack that had been both my prison and my refuge, the cold morning air wrapped around me like a silent warning. The camp still slumbered, shadows stretching long and thin in the dim light, the quiet almost sacred—the calm before the storm.

I moved quickly, my footsteps light against the dirt as I made my way through the skeletal remains of homes barely fit for survival. It still felt strange to have people I could call friends. In the slums, friendships were myths—illusions meant to lure fools into complacency.

Trust had never been more than a liability. But was it truly so wrong to believe? To put my faith in someone other than myself? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it was too late to question it now.

I roused Tobias and Talia from their makeshift shelters, their groggy movements sluggish with exhaustion. We didn't speak as we slipped through the narrow alleys, seeking the cover of shadows. The unnatural eyes that watched from the edges of the camp, the ones that saw without ever blinking—we needed to be far from them.

As I looked at my friends' faces, their exhaustion plain as day, I allowed a smirk to tug at the corner of my lips. They look like they got about as much sleep as the fucks I give.

"So," I drawled, breaking the silence, "how was your beauty sleep?"

"Fuck you, man," Tobias muttered, rubbing his temples. "What the hell are we doing out here this early?"

Talia groaned, arms crossed, her eyes barely open. "Yeah, Rowan, what could possibly be so urgent that it couldn't wait until a decent hour?"

I took a steadying breath before speaking, keeping my tone low. Controlled. "Change of plans," I said. "We leave tomorrow."

Silence. Their sleep-addled minds took a second to catch up, but when they did, they snapped to attention, eyes wide with shock.

"What?" they said in unison, their voices hushed but sharp.

I met their gazes, my expression unwavering. "I can't stay here a second longer than I have to," I said, forcing conviction into my words, masking the gnawing dread that Father Gideon already knew. That the walls of this camp were closing in faster than we had planned.

They needed to believe we still had control. They needed hope. And I couldn't afford to let them see the cracks forming in mine.

They exchanged wary glances, skepticism flickering in their tired eyes. My reasoning was weak—even I could hear it. But the truth? The truth was a weight I couldn't let them bear. The Watchers could be lurking even now, their hollow stares drinking in our every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Talia's sharp gaze settled on me, her voice edged with suspicion. "Is something wrong with the plan?"

Damn it. This was exactly what I'd feared. They were too smart, too perceptive. I forced my expression into something neutral, something steady.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "But earlier today, I saw a Watcher patrolling dangerously close to the escape route. We can't risk lingering. If we're going to pull this off, we have to move now."

Tobias frowned, his usual sarcasm absent. "Alright… but what about your brother? You're just gonna leave him here?"

His words hit harder than I expected. A part of me wished he hadn't asked. The truth was, I didn't have an answer—I hadn't made that decision yet. But I couldn't hesitate anymore.

"No." The word slipped out, sharp and final. My jaw clenched as frustration burned through me. "I can't just leave him here, hoping Father Gideon won't sink his claws into him."

Elias was drowning in something I couldn't see, something I didn't understand—but I felt it. A slow, insidious pull dragging him deeper into the dark. And yet, no matter how far gone he seemed, I couldn't let him slip away. Not completely. Not when I had promised her I'd protect him. No matter what.

Talia crossed her arms, her sharp gaze pinning me in place. "That's all well and good, but he doesn't exactly give off the vibe of someone eager to escape," she pointed out, her words a cold splash of reality.

I exhaled, trying to steady the frustration boiling in my chest. "Then I'll drag him if I have to," I said, my voice quieter than I intended, laced with something fragile. I swallowed hard, forcing steel back into my tone. "I mean… can you blame me? Would you leave your own brother behind in a place like this?"

Talia hesitated. Tobias, standing beside her, shifted uncomfortably before rubbing the back of his neck. "Never had one," he muttered, his usual smirk absent. "But I get it, man. He's family."

Family. The word settled heavy in my chest. There was no room for doubt anymore. The choice had already been made, carved into my bones. And even if it cost me an arm—or worse—I wasn't turning back.

"Alright, back to the plan," I said, my voice firm, cutting through the early morning haze. "Gather as much food as you can without raising suspicion. Act normal. Like you don't have one foot out the door. When night falls and the camp sleeps, meet by my shack. I'll get Elias. Then we move. No second-guessing. No hesitation. If we fail—" I let the words hang for a moment, my gaze sweeping over them, making sure they understood. "If we fail, we won't get another chance. We'll be nothing more than bloodstains on some altar, our throats slit before we even know we've been caught."

A heavy silence settled between us, thick and suffocating.

Tobias exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Damn, that's dark. Who knows? Maybe Father Gideon will just give us a friendly little pep talk about the importance of loyalty instead." His lips curled into a smirk, but even that couldn't hide the unease in his eyes.

Talia shot him a flat look. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Tobias placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "So I've been told, milady."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. We were about to walk into the unknown, and this was how they coped—with sarcasm and dry humor. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it would keep us from drowning in fear before the real fight had even begun.

---

I spent the rest of the day moving through the camp, gathering what little food I could without drawing attention. Every movement was deliberate, every interaction carefully measured, my face molded into an expression of practiced indifference. But beneath the surface, my mind was a storm—watching, analyzing, waiting for the slightest shift in the air.

I studied the Watchers, tracking their movements from the corners of my vision. Were they lingering too long in one place? Had they started watching me? Had they already discovered the hole? But no—there was nothing. No figures lurking in the shadows, no silent enforcers waiting behind corners, no whispered conversations hinting at suspicion. Just the same eerie calm that had blanketed this place for as long as I could remember.

And somehow, that was even worse.

If they had been investigating, I would know where I stood. I could plan. But this? This silence, this absence of reaction—it left me unmoored, second-guessing everything. Did they already know? Were they waiting for us to make our move? Or had Elias truly been asleep, his betrayal only something I had imagined in the restless corners of my mind?

I didn't have an answer. And that uncertainty gnawed at me more than anything.