Chapter 96
“Okay,” I whispered to it, to myself. “I want a window. One that shows the stars. Real ones.”
Light bloomed from the far wall. A large arched opening grew like roots curling outward, and through it I saw the night sky, my sky. Not the one above the battlefield or the broken veil. This one was deep, endless, peaceful. Galaxies spun in slow motion. Constellations I didn’t know the names of winked down like old friends. A moon hung low and gold, just close enough to touch if I really wanted to try. I gasped. It was perfect.
“And books,” I said, barely above a whisper.
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Shelves rose from the ground, twining upward like vines, filling with books that smelled like old paper and magic. Some were ancient, with gold- leaf pages and cracked leather spines. Others looked newer, with bright colors and titles that hinted at dragons, treasure maps, and impossible adventures. I stepped forward, running a hand across the nearest spine. My fingers trembled. I’d never owned a book before.
“And… music.”
A soft hum began to play, like the lullabies I imagined mothers might sing, if I’d ever had one. Gentle, magical. The kind that made your chest ache in a good way.
“And a bed. A soft one.”
The floor beside me shifted, rising like breath into a wide circular nest of pillows and plush blankets. It wasn’t sharp–edged or stiff; it looked like somewhere you could fall asleep and be safe. Truly safe. I stood in the center of it all, hands still clutching the crystal, heart pounding.
Then I heard a voice behind me.
“Elliot.”
I turned. Envy stood at the doorway, silhouetted in the starlight. Her smile wasn’t pitying, it was proud. Warm. Real.
“You did this,” she said softly. “You made this.”
I nodded slowly. “It’s mine?”
“All yours,” she whispered.
I didn’t know how to respond. The words in my throat weren’t strong enough. So I just stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her waist, burying my face into her stomach.
She froze, just for a moment, and then melted into the hug, pressing a hand to the back of my head.
“You’re allowed to have soft things now, Elliot,” she whispered into my hair. “You’re allowed to dream.”
I squeezed tighter, then looked up at her with a small smile.
“I want to learn how to play,” I said. “I want to learn how to laugh.”
Envy’s eyes shone like moonlight on water. “Then we’ll teach you.”
“Are we ready to go to our other home?” Xavier asked behind her.
The portal shimmered like a soap bubble caught in moonlight.
I hesitated. Envy reached for my hand, no words, just a gentle squeeze, and I stepped through beside her. The moment we landed, I was swallowed by sound. Laughter. Barking. Cheering. Children’s shrieks of excitement. The sun here was warm and rich, the wind carried the smell of baking bread and fresh–cut grass, and everything buzzed with life. This… this was Red Moon. The moment the portal snapped closed behind us, a crowd surged forward.
A tall woman with kind eyes and silver in her dark curls rushed to Envy, cupping her face. “You did it,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “My girl.”
That must be her mother. Beside her stood an even older woman with sharp cheekbones and a spine like steel, who gave a single approving nod to Envy… and then turned those eyes on me.
1/3
1:07 PM P P
Chapter 96
“You’re Elliot,” she said. Not a question.
I nodded.
“You’re safe now.” And then, unexpectedly, she reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Her touch was cold, but not unkind.
“Welcome home, boy.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Before I could try, three big men barreled into us, wrapping Envy in a hug. One had sea–glass green eyes and a grin like he’d won a bet. The others had wild curls and eyes like storm clouds. “You scared the shit out of us,” one of the curly–haired said. Then he looked at me, and his expression softened. “Hey, little man. Heard you helped save the realms.”
I blinked. “Maybe a little.”
He winked. “Not bad for your first week.”
A girl darted toward us next, beautiful, confident, with a long braid down her back and a playful smirk. “And this must be the new prince.” She gave a deep, overly dramatic bow. “Aleisha. Sister to the chaos quads. Long–suffering victim of their pranks. Welcome to the madhouse.”
A man stepped up behind her, resting a hand on her hip. “And I’m her mate, Tommy. Don’t let that one near glitter or fireworks.” He pointed to Aleisha. “Or you’ll regret it.”
“I make no promises,” she grinned.
I nodded mutely, stunned by how many people cared. Then something soft and fast slammed into my leg. I looked down and a little girl with wild brown curls and mismatched socks beamed up at me.
“You’re him,” she whispered.
“I think so?” I answered.
“I’m Macey,” she said proudly. “I live at the orphanage. Wanna see my frog? His name’s Toaster.”
I blinked. “Toaster?”
She nodded. “He jumps like one. I just found him today.”
Before I could respond, she grabbed my hand and dragged me into the grass.
The field was full of other kids, orphans like me, I realized. But they weren’t afraid. They were alive. Laughing, running, their faces sunburnt and joyful. It didn’t make sense. And yet it did. I turned to look for Envy, but she smiled and gave a small nod. Go on. Then the quads appeared. Noah, Xavier, Haiden, and Levi, all still glowing faintly with post–battle magic, grinned like wolves with a new game.
“Alright,” Levi clapped his hands. “First order of business for the little prince: capture the crown.”
“What’s that?” I asked warily.
“A game we made up,” Xavier said. “You’ve got five minutes to build your kingdom out of anything in the yard. Blankets, sticks, kids, whatever. Then we try to invade it.”
“What happens if I win?” I asked, intrigued despite myself.
“You name the next royal law,” Haiden said with a dramatic bow.
Noah winked. “But if we win, you owe us your dessert for a week.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Deal.”
Macey shrieked and grabbed my hand again. “Come on, we’ll build a castle out of the old tree stump and the hay bales!”
Children swarmed like bees, helping gather supplies. Blankets, rocks, sticks and in the middle of it all, for the first time in my life that I could remember, I laughed. It startled me, but it felt real. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t broken after all.
