Safe Haven Book Novels & Stories

She read the words twice, then a third time, as though they might rearrange themselves into something else. The brothers. Her chest tightened, her hand trembling slightly as she typed a reply. Where? Three dots appeared almost instantly, blinking as someone on the other end typed. Wherever you feel safe. Public, private, your choice. Safe. Her breath hitched at the word. She didn’t remember the last time she’d associated safety with people. Safety, to her, had always been a locked door, a bolt slid across, her back pressed against it as she tried to breathe in silence. Safety meant isolation, not trust.

“There’s food inside. You can rest. I’ll check in every few hours until we know it’s safe for you to leave.” Alina hesitated. “You think he’ll come looking?” Elise’s eyes softened. “He’ll panic first. Then he’ll get angry. But the important part is that he won’t find you before we’re ready.” Alina wanted to believe her. She really did. Inside, the safehouse was simple but clean — a small kitchen, a narrow couch, a single bedroom. She dropped her bag by the door and sat down. The silence felt unnatural, too empty after months of listening for footsteps, breathing patterns, the creak of doors.

Her safe person. Not another monster using her.

Around her, other people shifted closer without speaking, bodies unconsciously clustering the way animals did when the dark pressed in. Proximity thickened the quiet. Community as shield, she realized. Not safety—pressure held together. Rafael moved back to her side. “Rules don’t change because the walls are thick,” he said quietly. “No names. No phones. No patterns. No going out alone.” Nori nodded. The truth settled in her bones: safe places could be pressured into collapse. Sanctuary wasn’t a fortress. It was a pause. The door creaked open. A figure stumbled in, breath ragged, eyes too bright. Someone guided them gently, murmuring reassurances that sounded rehearsed. Nori’s gaze dropped t

Inside, my chest was screaming. Because I had no idea if I was lying to the right people. Or walking straight into my end. The golden one studied me for a long moment, like he could see through every breath I took. Then, surprisingly, his voice softened again. “You’re safe here,” he said. Safe. That word didn’t feel real. Not in any world I had lived in. My fingers curled slightly against whatever I was lying on, trying to ground myself. Safe didn’t exist for me. And definitely not in front of two strangers who looked like they could ruin me without even trying.

"You're putting your life in jeopardy for a phantom fantasy. Don't be such an idiot. Your squad was insanely powerful. It would be insane to throw it away. Make excellent use of it." "Is there any greater use than the destiny of the world?" I inquired. She took a step forward, nearer to me, and looked me in the eyes. "Come along with me. I have a safe house not far from here. Not only do I have these two children, but I also have other children. They're too young and innocent to be of any service to me. You have the potential to make a significant impact in our lives." "What type of safe haven?" Ricky inquired, constantly hoping for a new, permanent residence. "We've flown to 'safe as barrie

Isa leaned close, whispering, “This is insane. A CIA black site in the heart of the city? They’ll eat us alive, Cat.” “They already ate us,” Catalina said flatly. “This is just spitting in their teeth.” Lucien cut in, low and sharp. “Not another word, Isa. You’re here because Catalina trusts you, but you’ll keep quiet. One wrong sound and you’ll get us all killed.” Isa bristled but obeyed. Catalina stared out the window, raindrops racing each other down the glass like desperate fugitives. --- The safehouse was an abandoned theatre, with plaster peeling and velvet seats rotting in rows.

And now, with Ember sitting six feet away, wearing her reflection, I could feel it even more. I leaned in closer. "You don't have to hold her, either." "I already am," she whispered. I didn't complain. But I moved my hand anyway. Finger cradled around hers. She did not let go. And when she leaned her head against my shoulder, I let my gaze fall and breathed through her. For as long as I still could breathe. — Sophia The safehouse was hidden underground. Not some flashy bunker, some converted observatory. A crypt.

0 When I hear the word safe, anger spikes again. 0 "Safe? I was anything but safe. I was passed from one shitty home to the next, homeless, unwanted. I was alone for a lifetime in a world that I didn't belong in. Wasn't there another way? Did you ever check on me?" I ask, trying to keep from letting the tears I can feel welling up behind my eyes from falling. "You gave me life and then you vanished from it." 0

I have ten years of reasons, catalogued and ready. My eyes close anyway. Pulled under by the retreating fever, by the warmth of his hand still steady around mine, by the impossible, unwelcome, completely unprecedented feeling of being safe. His breathing slows beside me in the dark, even and close, and I think — right at the edge of sleep, where thoughts lose their sharp edges — that this is the most dangerous thing that has ever happened to me. Not Crane. Not the patrol. Not the broken vial or the Selection notice or ten years of running with a false name and a pounding heart.