Leah's POV
I turned my head, meeting Darren's gaze, those eyes still hungry, still pleading. "I know," I said, quiet, a sad twist to my lips.
But knowing wasn't enough. Love wasn't enough - not when the howls kept calling, not when my scars ran deeper than my skin. I rolled onto my side, facing the window, the moon's bloody glow spilling over us both.
The full moon hung there, swollen and silver, its light bleeding through the broken window and washing over the bed. I stared at it, unblinking, the pale glow clawing at something inside me - something feral, something I couldn't bury no matter how hard I tried. The air thickened, heavy with the salt of the sea and the weight of the night, and then I heard it - a low, guttural sound drifting through the dark. A howl. Distant, but unmistakable. Then another, and another, until the night was alive with their calls, a chorus of primal hunger that sent a shiver down my spine.
My heart kicked against my ribs, the sound sinking into my bones. Out there, beyond the city's edge, the werewolves were gathering, their instincts unleashed by the moon's pull. I could almost see them - shadows moving through the trees, eyes gleaming, fangs bared as they sang to the night. The howls rose and fell, a haunting melody that tugged at me, calling me back to a world I'd tried to leave behind.
I glanced at Darren, his scarred chest rising and falling in the moonlight, his breath steady, oblivious to the song outside. He was my tether, my shield, but even he couldn't protect me from this - from the truth that clawed at my soul. The werewolves were part of me, their growls a reminder that no matter how far I ran, I'd never be free. The full moon watched us, silent and unblinking, its light spilling over our bodies like a judgment.
The howls faded, swallowed by the night, but the echo lingered in my skull. I closed my eyes, the weight of it all pressing down - Darren's love, Liam's loyalty, the life I couldn't have, the blood I couldn't escape. For now, I'd stay here, in this crumbling rental house, wrapped in Darren's arms, pretending the world outside didn't exist. But the moon knew better. It always did.
I lay there, gaze locked on the moon, the distant growls a haunting lullaby, until sleep finally dragged me under.
-
The mansion's foyer smelled of saltwater and gun oil when I slipped inside, the heavy door clicking shut behind me like a vault sealing. Seth was a shadow slumped before the shark tank, the blue glow rippling over his hunched shoulders. The shark circled behind the glass, her gray bulk slicing through water thick with floating specks - fish food or ash, I couldn't tell. The TV screen flickered silently above him, a grainy parade of corpses.
I recognized Tommy Cosa's face before the anchor named him. Teeth bared mid-scream in the photo, his youth sharpened into something feral by the black-and-white. The ticker beneath screamed CASUALTY in red. Another Cosa boy down. Al's empire was crumbling like wet sugar, and the sharks weren't just in my tank anymore.
"You're back," Seth muttered, not turning. His voice had that raw edge, the one he got when he'd hacked too deep into something that left fingerprints on his soul.
I leaned against the tank, the cold glass biting through my shirt. "What's eating you?"
He flinched at the phrasing. "Liam came. Then left." His fingers twitched toward the keyboard balanced on his knees, keys smeared with neon-orange dust - cheese puffs or circuit corrosion. "Packed his go-bag, didn't even let me finish asking where. Just said he's done with us. With all of it."
The shark glided between us, her dead eyes reflecting the newsflash - BODY COUNT RISES IN MIAMI - as Seth's head dipped. "Thought I finally had a friend," he whispered. "But they always bolt, don't they? Like you're gonna."
I didn't touch him. Not yet. The scars on my wrists itched, phantom chains clinking. Friends are just enemies who haven't found the price tag, the Old King had purred once, his claws tearing a traitor's throat open.
"We do things for ourselves, Seth," I said, echoing the lie I'd swallowed for years. "Even when it guts people."
He turned then, face pale under the screen's glare. "But you won't leave me. Right? I can do a lot of things besides writing codes. I can clean and carry things. Please don't leave me." His eyes were too wide, too young, the way mine must've looked the first time I'd knelt for a crown prince's amusement.
"I won't go anywhere without you," I forced a smirk.
"And I can take sharbo with me?" His eyes glinted with excitement.
"Sharbo?" I frowned.
He pointed at the shark tank. The shark stared at me with her emotionless eyes.
I sighed. When a boy has given a pet a name, it means that he'll drag her everywhere he goes. "What? You'd ship her in a kiddie pool?"
He brightened, a flicker of hope. "I calculated the water weight! Custom armored van, oxygen tanks, maybe a..."
"Seth."
"Right. Also." He tapped his keyboard, and the TV switched to surveillance footage - Darren at a dive bar, his leather jacket swallowing the stool beneath him. A man was sitting next to him, all tailored malice, lighter glinting as he passed it to him. Seth zoomed in.
The air left my lungs.
Lycidas's profile filled the screen, sharp as a blade fracture. Even pixelated, his beauty was a violence - the high cheekbone, the smirk that had once pressed against a rogue's throat as he'd whispered, You'll beg to be my dog again.
"He's been meeting Darren weekly," Seth said. "Think he's your assassin?"
Sharbo slammed against the glass, sudden and thrashing, her jaws snapping at nothing. Seth yelped. I didn't move.
My brother's eyes on the screen seemed to lock onto mine, hungry and endless.
"You need to run," my wolf said in my mind. "You know your brother's always been a loyal dog to Lucian. He worships every inch of ground Lucian has walked. Lucian must have sent him out to kill you and that's why he's using Darren to approach you. When he gets you, he'll literally shatter you into pieces."
"Darren will never do anything like that to hurt me," I thought.
"You think you can protect this puppy-eyed kid from werewolves?" my wolf sounded desperate. "They will chew him alive! Along with that sharbo thing in the tank and that two-bit punk chauffeur boy of yours!"
"This is the human world. Things work differently in this place. Just you see." I snarled back.
My wolf growled in the depths of my mind," Those who dared to stake their faith on humanity had will always lose everything in the end."
"You sound like the Old King," I replied.
"Boss?" Seth's hand hovered near my arm, trembling.
I smiled. And it tasted as bitter as blood. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Why is Sharbo looking at us like that? Is she hungry? Did you feed her?"