When Eli opens his eyes, it's as if the night never happened.
Sunlight slips through half-open blinds, striping his dorm room floor in quiet gold. He stares at the ceiling, his heartbeat drumming like a secret he can't tell.
He should text Celeste. He should pretend nothing's wrong — that he didn't stand cornered between monsters who promised to break him open and claim what's inside.
But the mark beneath his collarbone burns. Even in daylight.
His phone buzzes — and this time, he forces himself to answer.
The café is too bright.
Jace drums his fingers on the table, eyes hidden behind tinted glasses that he never takes off indoors. Beside him, Liam Ortiga flips through a dog-eared notebook, jotting something down with his usual lazy grin. And across from Eli, Celeste Oria Santos sits cross-legged in her chair, chin propped on her hand, wide eyes locked on Eli's every twitch.
"You ghosted us last night." Jace's tone is casual, but the bite is there — buried under layers of smug arrogance. "Not very team leader of you, Serrano."
Eli tries to smile. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Sorry. I just… needed air."
Liam snorts. "Air behind the old library? Where the floor creaks like a coffin lid? Solid choice, El."
Celeste's foot bumps his under the table — gentle but firm. "You're shaking," she says softly. "Don't lie. We've seen this before."
Eli looks at her — really looks. Her eyes are warm but sharp, the way they always are when she slips from clumsy Celeste to the protector that keeps their ragged squad from falling apart.
Jace sighs, flipping his shades up just enough for Eli to see the worry flickering in his eyes before he hides it again. "Tell us who's bothering you."
Eli opens his mouth — and closes it. The words taste too big, too unreal.
A vampire prince. A demon heir. A mark that could tear reality open.
Instead, he says, "It's nothing."
Liam leans back, stretching until his spine cracks. "You know what's not nothing? The symbols I found on the chapel wall last night."
Celeste perks up. "Symbols?"
"Runes," Liam says, fishing out a crumpled photo. He slides it across the table. "Same style as the ones behind the library. Some cult crap, maybe — but they're fresh. Like someone's marking the place."
Eli's stomach twists. He recognizes the shapes — he's seen them. Zyren's runes. Khyro's warnings.
Jace watches him like a hawk. "You know something."
Eli shakes his head — but Celeste's hand shoots out, gripping his wrist. Her palm is warm, steady.
"If you're in danger, we help. That's the pact," she says. "The Fourfold doesn't break. Not for secrets. Not for monsters."
Her voice wobbles on that last word — maybe she doesn't even know why she said it. But Eli does.
He wants to tell them everything. He wants to spill the mark, the fangs, the claws waiting in the dark.
But he just sits there, staring at the photo. The runes curl like black veins across broken brick — a door half-carved, half-open.
And under the table, Eli's mark burns.
The moment the café door swings shut behind them, Celeste loops her arm through Eli's. Her warmth cuts through the cold coil in his chest — for a second, he almost believes he's safe.
Almost.
"You're going to tell us what's going on," she says, her voice light but her grip iron-strong. "And don't you dare pull that 'I'm fine' crap again."
Jace trails behind them, sunglasses pushed up on his head, expression pinched as he scrolls through his phone. Liam saunters on Eli's other side, flipping the rune photo between his fingers.
"Symbols like this don't show up for fun," Liam mutters. "Someone's carving them on purpose. And it's not kids pulling a prank — these marks are old. Real old."
Eli swallows the lump in his throat. He wishes he could say he doesn't know — but the burn beneath his collarbone pulses in time with every word Liam says.
They cut through the courtyard — the early afternoon sun doing nothing to warm the sharp wind that whips past old stone walls. The campus feels wrong today. Heavy. Like shadows hide behind every glance.
Celeste glances up at him, wide brown eyes narrowed just enough to sting. "You've been having the dreams again, haven't you?"
He flinches. He never told her how deep the dreams went — how they bled into daylight, into whispers in empty hallways. Into monsters with crimson eyes and fangs like promises.
"Eli," Jace snaps, pocketing his phone. "Answer her."
Eli pulls away, forcing a weak smile. "It's nothing. Just nightmares."
"Bullshit." Liam's voice is soft, but the way he says it makes Eli look at him. Really look.
Liam's lazy grin is gone. For once, there's no humor, no sleepy sarcasm. Just steel behind those half-lidded eyes.
"Whatever's out there, it wants you," Liam says. "You can lie to us. But the marks won't lie back."
They reach the old stone steps of the Humanities Hall — the same place Eli once skipped lectures to nap under the oaks with Celeste, Jace, and Liam fighting over who stole whose coffee.
Now, it feels like a tomb waiting to close around him.
Celeste tugs him to a stop. Her hand cups his cheek — clumsy but sure, like she's done a thousand times before.
"You're ours, Eli," she whispers. "If something's hunting you… they'll have to go through us."
Jace crosses his arms, eyes flicking to the shadows pooling under the steps. "They'll wish they never crawled out of their crypts."
Liam smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "If they bleed, we can break them."
Eli looks at them — these three pieces of his messy, mortal life. His Fourfold.
And he wonders, not for the first time, how many of them will break when the monsters finally come knocking.
Eli tells himself the warmth of Celeste's hand should comfort him. That Jace's sharp bark of loyalty and Liam's quiet threat to monsters should make him feel safe.
It almost does — until he feels it again.
That prickle at the edge of his thoughts — like claws scraping the back of his skull. Like eyes tracking him through shadows no one else can see.
He pulls back too fast. Celeste's hand drops to her side, her worry unspoken but loud in her eyes.
"I have to go," Eli blurts. He doesn't wait for their protests — just spins on his heel, steps quick across the old stone landing.
"Eli!" Jace calls, but Eli doesn't look back.
---
The stairwell in Humanities swallows him whole. The echoes of his footsteps bounce off peeling paint, cracked tiles. The air hums wrong here — static clinging to his skin, dancing over the burn beneath his collarbone.
Halfway down the dark hallway, he stops. His breath clouds in front of him even though it shouldn't be this cold.
Something's here.
He spins, scanning the empty corridor — but there's nothing. Just old bulletin boards littered with faded flyers, a flickering light bulb overhead.
Then he sees it — scratched into the wall near the stairwell door.
A fresh rune. Stark black against crumbling plaster. Like it was carved there just for him.
Eli's heart slams against his ribs. He steps closer, fingers trembling as he reaches out — doesn't quite touch it.
A whisper skates across his ear.
"Veilblood."
He jerks back — breath ragged. He turns, but the hallway is empty. Empty, except for the rune that seems to pulse in the stale light.
And behind him — for just a heartbeat — a shadow moves at the end of the corridor.
Too tall. Too thin. Too wrong.
Eli bolts. Feet pounding down the stairs, every corner he turns feels like jaws waiting to snap shut.
By the time he bursts through the side exit, his lungs burn. Sunlight feels like a lie.
He presses a palm to the mark on his chest — feels it thrumming against his ribs, alive and waiting.
Somewhere in the shadows, Khyro watches. Somewhere deeper, Zyren grins.
And Eli? Eli runs.
But the Veil is already cracking.
Eli doesn't know how long he runs — only that when he finally stops, the sun is lower, turning the old courtyard gold and red like a bleeding wound.
He leans against a rusted iron gate behind the science building — a hidden corner where The Fourfold used to sneak cheap beer and curse exams.
Now, the air tastes like iron. Like old secrets clinging to brick.
His phone buzzes again — Celeste. He doesn't answer. Another buzz — Jace. Then Liam.
He closes his eyes, presses his forehead to the cold bars. Tries to steady his breath.
He feels them. Not just the shadows, but something deeper — two ancient currents pulling at him from opposite directions. Cold marble halls dripping with crimson banners. Firelit chambers where laughter sounds like claws on bone.
Khyro. Zyren.
He knows their names now — in his blood, in his bones.
---
Footsteps crunch behind him. Eli stiffens — but it's just Celeste, out of breath, hair stuck to her forehead.
"Found you," she pants, clutching a stitch in her side. "You really suck at hiding, you know that?"
Jace appears next — scowling but relieved. He shoves his hands in his pockets like he's trying not to throttle Eli for running.
Liam follows last, flipping a silver pen between his fingers, gaze flicking over the old stone walls like he's looking for runes in every crack.
"You're not alone, idiot," Jace snaps. "You don't get to disappear on us."
Celeste reaches for him again, pressing her palm over his chest — right above the mark he's been hiding. He flinches but doesn't pull away.
"You're burning up," she whispers.
Eli's voice cracks. "They're coming for me, Cel. I don't even know what they want. Or what I am."
Liam's eyes sharpen. "You're ours. That's what you are."
Jace barks a humorless laugh. "And anyone who tries to take you? We bury them."
Celeste tries to smile, but there's fear flickering at the edges. "You hear us? The Fourfold doesn't break."
Above them, the rusted gate groans. A cold wind sweeps through — and for a heartbeat, Eli swears he sees a silhouette watching from the rooftop opposite. Pale hair. Crimson eyes.
Gone in a blink.
---
Far above the courtyard, hidden by crumbling gargoyles, Khyro lowers his gaze. Beside him, a softer rustle — Seraphine steps from shadow, her crimson cloak brushing stone.
"He's slipping," Seraphine murmurs. "The Infernal Triad will make their move soon."
Khyro's eyes stay locked on the boy below. On the mark that glows under mortal skin.
"Then we get to him first," Khyro says. "He is ours. He always was."
And far below, Eli's heart beats — steady, fragile, destined to be split between monsters who claim to protect him.