Chapter 3 – Vanilla, Gunpowder, and the 0.3-Second Leak
The Eclipse Tower elevator only accepted three people in the world.
Kael Valdemar.
The head of campus security.
And me.
I stood in the mirrored corner at 6:58 p.m., clutching a single library book like a shield, hair still damp from the rain that had started the moment I left the main building. The rose-gold choker glowed soft and warm against my throat, reflecting infinitely in every wall until the car looked full of fragile silver-haired boys.
I had timed it perfectly.
At 6:59 the elevator slowed, paused, and opened on the private Apex floor.
Kael stepped in alone.
He was soaked too (black coat clinging to his shoulders, hair dripping, red choker dark with rain). He smelled like winter storm and the faintest trace of someone else's blood. Probably Cassian Valerius's nose. I had watched from the library window as Kael dragged him behind the west greenhouse and came back alone.
The doors closed.
Just us.
Twenty-three floors of scent-proof glass and silence.
He didn't speak at first. Just looked at me in the mirror, eyes unreadable.
"You missed curfew," he said finally.
I let my voice shake. "The rain started suddenly. I thought… if I ran…" I hugged the book tighter. "I'm sorry."
He exhaled through his nose, pressed the emergency stop between floors 19 and 20, and turned to face me fully.
The elevator jolted to a halt.
My heart didn't speed up. It never did anymore.
Kael took one step closer. The air changed (cedar, ozone, something metallic sharpening).
"You can't be out alone after eight," he said. "Not even in the courtyard. Not until the new protocols finish rolling out."
I looked at the floor. "I know. I just… needed a book." I lifted the one in my arms like evidence. It was a first-edition poetry collection worth $180,000. I had bought it yesterday just for this moment.
He glanced at the title and his eyebrow twitched (he recognized it; it had vanished from his personal library two years ago).
I let my lashes flutter. "It was in the restricted archive. They let me in because… because of my name, I think."
Silence stretched. The elevator lights dimmed automatically to emergency red.
Kael's gaze dropped to my throat. The rose-gold band looked obscene under the crimson glow.
"You shouldn't have to use your name for anything," he said, so quietly I almost missed it.
I took the smallest step forward (barely half a foot). Close enough that the tips of my shoes touched his. Close enough that if he breathed deep he would drown in vanilla and white rose.
His pupils dilated.
I tilted my head, letting damp hair slide over one shoulder. "Will you escort me the rest of the way, senpai?"
Something flickered across his face (annoyance, hunger, confusion). He reached past me and pressed the button for the Eclipse floor. The elevator lurched upward again.
We didn't speak for the remaining fifteen seconds.
When the doors opened onto my private foyer (black marble, white roses in crystal vases, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the entire campus glittering below like spilled diamonds), Kael stepped out first. He scanned the entrance hall the way soldiers scan for tripwires.
I followed, slow, letting him lead.
He stopped in the center of the room.
"This floor is supposed to be empty," he said without turning.
"It is," I answered softly. "Except for me."
He turned then. Slowly.
The foyer lights were motion-sensitive; they brightened gradually, painting us in cold white. His coat dripped onto my marble. I wanted to kneel and lick the water before it evaporated.
Instead I hugged the book and whispered, "Thank you for bringing me home."
His jaw flexed. "Lock the door behind me."
He moved to leave.
I let the first crack happen.
Just 0.3 seconds.
I loosened the sixth pheromone patch (the one hidden beneath the choker itself) by the width of a single molecule.
A thread of real scent leaked out.
Not vanilla.
Not rose.
Dark. Metallic. Like the inside of a gun barrel right after the shot. Like the moment before lightning splits the sky.
Kael froze mid-step.
His shoulders locked. His head snapped back toward me so fast something in his neck cracked.
The red emergency lighting from the elevator had followed us out; it turned his eyes into burning coals.
He inhaled once (sharp, involuntary).
His knees buckled a fraction before he caught himself on the wall.
The poetry book slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a sound like a gunshot.
Kael's pupils were blown wide, black swallowing storm-gray. A low sound escaped his throat (not human). His gloved hand clawed at his own choker like it was choking him.
I took one tiny step back, eyes wide, the perfect picture of terrified Omega.
"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, voice trembling. "Sometimes when I'm scared it… leaks. I can't control it yet. Please don't be mad—"
He was across the foyer in two strides.
I thought he would grab me. Shake me. Demand answers.
Instead he dropped to one knee in front of me (hard), head bowed, shoulders shaking like he was fighting something with teeth.
The strongest Apex in the world on his knees in my foyer, breathing like he'd been running for miles.
I stared down at the top of his head (wet black hair, the faint scar I had memorized) and felt something inside me unfurl like a black flower.
"Kael…?" I whispered, reaching out with one shaking hand.
He caught my wrist before I touched him (grip brutal, desperate). His face was still turned away, but I could see the muscle jumping in his jaw.
"Don't," he rasped. "Don't move."
I froze.
Thirty seconds passed. Maybe a lifetime.
Slowly, agonizingly, he forced himself back to his feet. His hand released my wrist like it burned. He took three steps back until the wall stopped him.
His chest was heaving. The metallic edge in the air was gone (swallowed again), but the damage was done.
He stared at me like he was seeing something else entirely.
"What," he said, voice shredded, "the fuck are you?"
I let real tears fill my eyes this time (no glycerin needed).
"I'm just an Omega," I whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He dragged a hand over his face. When it came away there was blood on his glove (he had bitten his own palm without realizing).
The elevator dinged behind him, doors opening like it had decided he'd suffered enough.
Kael didn't move.
I took one tiny step forward, barefoot on cold marble, and said the softest, most dangerous thing I had ever said aloud.
"Will you come back tomorrow?" I asked. "To check on me? I… I get scared at night."
His head snapped up.
For one heartbeat the predator looked out of his eyes (raw, cornered, furious).
Then the mask slammed back down.
He stepped backward into the elevator without a word.
The doors closed on the image of him standing there, bleeding from his own teeth, staring at me like I had just rewritten the laws of nature.
I waited until the car descended twenty floors.
Then I smiled (wide, sharp, real).
I bent, picked up the fallen poetry book, and pressed it to my chest.
On the inside cover, written in my handwriting years ago, was a single line:
For Kael,
who will one day kneel without being asked.
I kissed the page, tasting ink and rain and future blood.
Phase two complete.
Tomorrow he would come back.
And the next time I let the monster out, I wouldn't pull it back in.