Kyle stirs, but something feels terribly off.
There's no warmth beside him. No softness of Lucan's bed beneath him.
Instead, cold punches into him like a violent wave, jerking him fully awake. His eyes fly open, and immediately panic slams into his chest like a boulder.
This isn't Lucan's bed. This isn't even a bed. Hell, he's not even in Lucan's room, he's nowhere near the pack house.
All he sees are trees around.
His heart seizes. His breath catches.
What the hell...?
He looks down. His hands, his arms, are soaked in blood. Sticky, dark, dried.
But I'm not hurt...
It's not his. This isn't his blood.
The realization drives a spike through his chest.
Whose blood is this?! What did I do?!
His mind spirals. The last thing he remembers is lying in Lucan's bed. Lucan beside him.
Now... this.
His breathing shortens into ragged, painful gasps.
Did I...?
No. No, no.
But the voice...
The voice from last night...
"Finish him! Finish him before he finishes you!"
It screams in his skull like a haunting echo. Urgent. Demanding. Unrelenting.
He clutches his head, pain exploding behind his eyes. Did I listen to it?
Did I kill Lucan?!
Terror roars in his chest, shaking him to his core.
What did I do?! What if I...what if he's...
He can't breathe. The world spins.
His chest heaves painfully as sobs claw their way up his throat. A scream builds, but he swallows it down.
He tries to stand. He has to get to the pack house. He has to see if Lucan is alive. He has to know!
But his legs betray him. Weak and trembling, he collapses mid-step.
Before he hits the ground, arms catch him.
For a heartbeat, he wants to believe it's Lucan. That he didn't kill him. That this is just a nightmare.
But no.
That scent isn't Lucan's. Those arms aren't his.
He steadies himself, heart still thundering, and turns.
"Justine?!" he gasps.
"They're coming after you," Justine says, his voice taut with urgency. "They've been chasing you all night. Come on!"
"Who?" Kyle chokes out, still dizzy with panic.
"Who else? The witches!" Justine grabs his arm. "Come on!"
Even as they run, something claws at Kyle's gut. A sharp, screaming instinct.
Something's not right.
Justine's grip, his eyes... they're too focused. Too stiff. Not right.
He jerks his arm away. Stops cold.
"You're taking me to them, aren't you?" His voice is low, trembling with anger, and fear.
"What?!" Justine says, startled, feigning innocence.
"You're not trying to help me run," Kyle snaps. "You're leading me to them! Aren't you Justine?!"
Justine says nothing. But his silence is an answer.
Kyle's voice rises, raw and furious. "You're not happy with them! I see it in your eyes! So why are you doing this?! You don't belong with the witches. You're a wolf! You'll always be a wolf! So why the hell are you doing this?! Even you know they don't value you and they are just using you! So why?!"
"Shut up," Justine mutters. "You know nothing."
"No. I know everything! Even now, you can't say it straight. Your voice is shaking, Justine! You're not sure where you stand, and it's killing you!"
"You think any wolf's going to survive?" Justine suddenly shouts, his mask cracking. "Witches are planning something bigger. They're going to wipe us all out! And you? They'll turn you into that beast completely and use you as a weapon wether you like it or not!"
Kyle staggers back at his words but he sees the pain behind them.
"So that's it?" he asks. "This is what's all about? You've decided to side with them because you're afraid to wiped out by them?" His voice trembles, but there's fire in his eyes. "But we can stop this, Justine. You and I. We can stop them. We can save our kind instead of joining the enemies just to survive while we ruin out own kind."
He steps closer. Pleading now. "Come on. Please..."
Justine laughs bitterly. "You've completely lost it..."
But then both of them freeze.
The air shifts. They can sense the witches around.
Kyle swallows hard. His hands shake. But outwardly, he forces himself to stand tall.
"What now?" he asks coldly. "I'm going to run. Why aren't you stopping me? Going to hand me over or what?"
Justine says nothing. His jaw clenches.
But then, he speaks.
"Run."
But Kyle doesn't.
"Come with me," he begs, chest heaving. "You don't want to be with them. I know you don't. We both know that, so Please... Justine, come with me, we can work together and end all this!"
Justine's face twists. Torn. His usual playfulness is gone, replaced by something raw. Something human. But he doesn't move.
"We're running out of time!" Kyle yells. "If they find you here, they'll know you let me go. And what do you think they'll do to you then?! I know you still care about your kind. That's why you're letting me run. Come on Justine."
The witches' scent sharpens. They're close.
Justine trembles.
Still, Kyle doesn't move.
"I told you to run!" Justine insists, almost pushing Kyle away.
But Kyle doesn't budge. "I'm not going without you."
A beat of silence.
Then Justine groans, his decision made, and grabs Kyle's arm.
Together, they run. Like hell itself is chasing them.
And neither of them knows if they are running toward freedom or straight into hell.