Liam's POV
The room felt claustrophobic, the walls pressing in as I stared at the boss. She stood there, tall and commanding, like she always did, but something was wrong - horribly wrong.
My chest tightened, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I thought they'd crack. Sweat stung my eyes, trickling down my face, cold against my flushed skin. I wanted to bolt, to yell, to do something, but my feet were cemented to the floor.
"Impossible," I rasped, the word scraping out of my dry throat.
She turned her head, slow and deliberate, her eyes catching the light—glowing, predatory.
"Liam, you're hallucinating."
I couldn't think straight. My mind clawed for something solid, something to hold onto.
My dad's voice came back to me, low and steady like it always was - Don't rush to judge, Liam. Try to understand.
He'd been big on that - seeing things from the other side. But this? This wasn't a perspective I could wrap my head around. Supernatural human-wolf-shit was like fairy tales, not flesh and blood standing in front of me.
Everything I'd ever puzzled over in my life came rushing back, like my brain was scrambling for answers anywhere it could.
Why my dad's surname was Pintard and mine was Madison - him shielding me from his shadow so I could scrape by on the docks like any other kid.
Why I'd never seen my mom, just a blank space where she should've been, abandoned before I could even remember her face.
Why Darryl and his gang had hounded me, kicking me down because I didn't fit their mold.
Then the debt - Vinny's chokehold on me. I'd read enough in community library to know it wasn't just bad luck; it was the way the world turned after the Second World War, the dollar propped up while poor people like me got crushed.
Nonna's illness didn't help, bleeding us dry, but I'd never blame her. She was all I had.
Talia's anger, though - that one stung deep. I didn't know why she hated me, but I knew it was definitely my fault, some screw-up I couldn't name. But after what I had done to boss, I really couldn't blame her for being paranoid about me all the time. That girl just saw me through. And I couldn't hide anything from her.
The man in the basement? Well, that was obvious - he'd loved the boss too hard, let it drive him over the edge. Just like what I was about to turn to.
And Seth - how could he possibly jerk off over boss without feeling guilty about it? That was something that I could never fathom. But, well, fuck it. He was pretty much the best version that he could be.
But this - this was beyond anything. Boss, the woman I'd respected, maybe even loved in my quiet, messed-up way, sprouting claws like a monster? My head spun, thoughts crashing into each other. A wave of nausea hit me, my vision smearing at the edges like wet ink. My legs buckled, and I reached out, fingers grasping at empty air as I went down.
Her eyes were the last thing I saw - bright, burning, locked on me like I was prey. Then the dark swallowed me whole.
Seth's POV
Liam sprawled across the bed, his skin pale as death, a ragged gash splitting his abdomen like some butcher had taken a sloppy swing. Talia stood there, her thin frame trembling, eyes wide with a horror that didn't quite fit her fragile look. She stared at him, then at me, like I owed her answers.
"What happened?" she demanded, voice quivering, sharp enough to cut through the haze in my head.
I shrugged, letting my shoulders slump like it was nothing. "It is what it is. Liam got scratched by a large animal." My words came out flat, casual, but sweat beaded on my neck.
I hated talking to strangers, especially women.
Her gaze darted around, wild, like she expected claws to rip through the walls. "Large animals? Do you mean like servals? African lions? Leopards? Jaguar?"
I blinked at her, caught off guard. This waif of a girl, all bones and nerves, rattling off predators like she'd memorized the damn encyclopedia. I pressed a hand to my forehead, half-laughing, half-exasperated. "Okay, girl, stop. Stop. You need to lay off the National Geographic after work. It was a cheetah."
"A cheetah?!" Her voice cracked, disbelief spilling out like blood from Liam's wound. "You mean a real cheetah? Why the hell is there a cheetah here?"
I sighed, the weight of her questions grinding my patience thin. "Boss needs large animals to guard the house. This estate's a sprawl - needs a big cat to keep it safe."
Talia's eyes narrowed, her frail hands clenching. "Are you saying if I go out there, I could get attacked by a cheetah?"
"It's not that dramatic," I snapped, irritation creeping in. "They hardly attack humans."
"Then why'd it attack Liam?" she shot back, relentless.
Sweat slicked my palms now, and I jabbed a finger at Liam's limp form. "Your boyfriend's bleeding out, gone into shock. How about you stitch him up before we play twenty questions about the damn cat?"
That shut her up. She scurried to the medical kit, hands steadying as she swabbed the wound with disinfectant. The needle flashed in her grip, threading through torn flesh. "Where'd Leah go?" she asked, not looking up. "Why isn't she here?"
I leaned against the wall, fishing an ice cream from the mini-fridge. The cold bit my tongue as I licked it, a fleeting relief. "She's neutralizing the big cat."
Talia froze, needle hovering. "Can she handle a cheetah?!"
I smirked, the ice cream dripping down my hand. "Like you can't even imagine."
She shut up, finished her work, and slipped out for work, leaving me alone with Liam's ragged breathing.
After a while, Liam's eyes snapped open, wild and bloodshot. He lunged, grabbing my arm with a strength that shouldn't have been there. "Help! Boss… she… wolf claws! I saw wolf claws! Her hands! Her hands!" His voice was a hoarse snarl, panic clawing through it.