The house felt different after she left.
Not quieter, not exactly, but heavier in a way Austin couldn't quite shake, as if the walls themselves had absorbed everything that had been said and were still holding onto it. He stood in the middle of his room, a half-unzipped duffel bag resting on the bed behind him, clothes spilling out in uneven folds where urgency had once dictated order.
Now, that urgency was gone.
Or rather, it had changed shape.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand over the back of his neck as he stared at the open bag for a moment longer before finally stepping forward. One by one, he began returning everything to its place, movements methodical, almost automatic, though his mind was nowhere near the task itself.
You were ready to run… you had everything mapped out… and it still wasn't enough.
A shirt folded between his hands paused mid-motion as Elizabeth's words resurfaced, layered over the memory of the folder, of Clara's face under sterile light, of the absence that shouldn't have been possible.
Adam.
The tattoo.
The island.
His jaw tightened slightly as he pushed the thoughts down just enough to function, placing the shirt back into the drawer and reaching for the next item.
Running doesn't fix it… it just leaves him exposed.
That was the part he couldn't ignore, no matter how much he wanted to. Every instinct he had screamed at him to pull his son out, to disappear, to cut ties before something worse could reach them.
But now there was something worse.
Something already in motion.
And Adam was at the center of it.
The last of the clothes disappeared into the wardrobe, the zipper of the bag sliding shut with a soft, final sound that echoed faintly in the room. Austin stood there for a moment, staring at it, as if expecting something to change.
Nothing did.
A quiet vibration broke the stillness.
His phone.
He reached for it on the nightstand, the screen lighting up his face as a message notification appeared. The name alone was enough to tighten his grip slightly.
Elizabeth.
He opened it.
A single message.
Short. Direct.
She mentioned that she had forgotten to say it earlier, but it would be in his best interest not to confront Adam about his nature, not yet, not for his safety or Adam's.
Austin stared at the screen, reading it again, slower this time.
Not confront him…
His thumb hovered over the display as if he might respond, but no words came. Instead, his mind drifted immediately to Adam, to the way he had looked the last time they spoke, to every small detail he had brushed aside without realizing it.
The late nights.
The tension.
The changes he hadn't questioned enough.
How long has this been right in front of me…
A quiet frustration settled in his chest, not sharp, but persistent, as he locked the phone and set it back down. The room fell into silence again, but this time it felt different, less uncertain, more resolved.
He wasn't leaving.
Not anymore.
Which meant there was only one direction left.
Forward.
Even if he didn't like where it led.
---
The glow of the phone screen faded as Adam lowered it, the time still lingering in his mind even after the display went dark.
1:34 AM.
The room was wrapped in darkness, thick and undisturbed, the kind that usually blurred shapes and swallowed detail, but to Adam, it felt almost… normal. The outlines of furniture were clear, edges defined in soft gradients of shadow and light, every object sitting exactly where he expected it to be.
Still weird how easy this is now…
He shifted slightly on the bed, turning his head just enough to glance across the room toward Bryce's side. The steady rhythm of breathing reached him easily, slow and consistent, the subtle rise and fall of the blanket confirming what the sound already suggested.
Asleep.
Or at least, that's what it looked like.
Adam stayed still for a moment longer, listening, letting his senses stretch just a little further, searching for anything out of place. The dorm remained quiet, the distant hum of the building settling into the background, nothing unusual, nothing immediate.
Now or never.
He sat up slowly, careful with every movement, the mattress dipping just slightly under his weight before settling again. His feet touched the floor without a sound, the cool surface grounding him as he paused, listening again out of habit more than necessity.
Still nothing.
Good.
He moved toward his shoes, slipping them on with practiced ease, each motion controlled, deliberate, minimizing noise even though a part of him knew he didn't need to be this careful.
You're overthinking it…
Maybe.
But something about tonight didn't feel like something to rush.
The thought of the library surfaced again, clearer now, sharper, pulling his focus toward the reason he was even awake in the first place. That section of the wall, the one that never quite felt right, the one that carried that strange, almost suffocating presence whenever he got close.
It hadn't left his mind.
Not since the last time he felt it.
It's the same… it has to be the same.
The island.
That moment.
The air had felt different there too, heavy in a way that didn't make sense until he connected it now, until the memory aligned with the sensation.
The hooded figure.
The one who had stepped in when everything should have ended.
If that presence in the library came from the same source, then there was a chance, however small, that whoever or whatever was behind that wall could lead him back to something, or someone, who understood what he was becoming.
And if they can control it… maybe they can teach me how to.
He adjusted the laces on his shoes, pulling them tight before standing fully, his gaze drifting briefly toward the door.
A flicker of hesitation crept in.
Still. What if they don't want to be found…
The thought lingered, heavier than the others.
If the presence belonged to someone powerful enough to stay hidden this long, then walking straight toward it in the middle of the night wasn't just risky, it was borderline reckless. There was no guarantee they would be friendly, no reason to assume they wouldn't react violently to being discovered.
His jaw tightened slightly as he exhaled through his nose.
I'm not exactly weak anymore either.
That much was true.
Everything he had experienced recently, the strength, the speed, the way his body responded now, it wasn't something he fully understood yet, but it was there, undeniable.
And he had been holding back constantly and carefully.
Maybe it's time to see where the limit actually is.
The thought carried a strange mix of excitement and unease, a curiosity that pushed against his caution just enough to keep him moving forward.
Another memory surfaced then, softer, steadier.
The church.
The pastor's voice.
That calm certainty.
It grounded him in a way he hadn't expected.
You're not walking into this alone.
Whether that belief was rational or not didn't matter in the moment. It was enough.
He stepped toward the door, hand reaching for the handle, fingers wrapping around it as he slowly pulled it open just enough to slip through without making a sound.
A beam of light cut through the darkness.
Sharp.
Sudden.
It hit him across the chest, forcing his body to freeze instantly, muscles locking before his mind could catch up.
"Where are you going?"
The voice followed the light, calm but edged with something sharper underneath.
Adam turned slowly, his eyes adjusting instantly to the brightness as they landed on Bryce, who stood a few steps behind him, phone raised, the flashlight aimed directly at him.
Awake.
Fully.
Not groggy, not confused.
Watching.
Adam blinked once, the tension in his shoulders tightening as surprise flickered across his expression.
"You've been up this whole time?" he asked, his voice low, controlled, though the question came quicker than he intended.
Bryce tilted his head slightly, the light shifting just enough to cast sharper shadows across his face, his usual easygoing expression nowhere to be found.
"I could ask you the same thing," he replied.
The tone was different.
Not playful.
Not relaxed.
There was something colder there now, something that didn't quite match the Bryce Adam was used to.
Adam let out a small chuckle, trying to ease the shift in atmosphere as he adjusted his stance near the door.
"Just needed some air man," he said, gesturing vaguely. "Didn't think I had to file a report before stepping out."
The attempt at humor landed flat.
Bryce didn't smile. Didn't even react.
Instead, he took a slow step forward, lowering the phone just slightly, though the light remained steady, unwavering.
"I don't really care where you're going," he said, his voice even, almost detached. "Truth is… I couldn't sleep."
A brief pause followed, the silence stretching just enough to sharpen whatever was coming next.
"I've had this feeling," Bryce continued, his eyes narrowing just slightly, "that I'm being lied to."
Adam's expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted, subtle but noticeable.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, brushing it off as he turned slightly, angling his body toward the door again. "You're overthinking it."
He took a step.
Bryce exhaled quietly behind him.
"It's no use hiding it now."
The words stopped him.
Not loudly.
Not forcefully.
But with enough certainty to pull him back.
Adam paused mid-step, one foot already past the threshold, his hand still resting on the door as he turned his head just slightly over his shoulder.
Bryce stood there, the light steady in his hand, his gaze locked onto Adam with an intensity that hadn't been there before.
"I already know your little secret," he said.
The air shifted.
Adam turned fully this time, the door forgotten as his eyes narrowed slightly.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice quieter now, more controlled.
Bryce didn't answer immediately.
He took another step forward, closing the distance just enough, his presence filling the space between them in a way that felt deliberate.
Measured.
Certain.
Then, without raising his voice, without breaking eye contact, he said it.
"I know that... You're a werewolf."