Evelyn
I should've felt safer at home. Behind my locked door. With the lights on and the world muted outside.
But nothing about tonight felt normal anymore.
Mark was dead.
And Lucian Blackthorn — the boy I couldn't stop thinking about — had dropped every layer of mystery he wore like armor and told me the truth.
He was a werewolf.
And I… might be the reason someone died.
The porch light flickered overhead as Lucian sat across from me, elbows on his knees, silent. He hadn't spoken since I asked the question.
"Tell me about the fire," I repeated. "The one that destroyed your house. The one in the papers."
His jaw tensed. "You really want to know everything?"
"Yes."
He leaned back, the porch creaking beneath his weight. His golden eyes shimmered faintly in the darkness — wolf and man in one.
"The fire happened fifteen years ago. But it started long before that."
⸻
Lucian
"There were five of us. Five born with the bloodline.
We weren't just wolves — we were born into it. Ancient pack magic. Old families from Europe. Blackthorn was one of the oldest.
But we weren't a pack.
We were fractured.
When my father died, the rest of the bloodline turned on each other. Territory. Power. Control.
And then, there was him — the rogue."
"Was he part of your family?" Evelyn asked.
I hesitated. Then nodded.
"My cousin. His name was Caleb. He was the strongest of us — even stronger than me. But he didn't want to follow rules. He didn't want balance. He wanted power. Permanence. To stop shifting. To never turn back.
He found dark magic. Forbidden stuff. And he used it.
That night, the night of the fire, he came for all of us."
Her eyes widened. "He caused it?"
"He burned it down. With my little sister still inside."
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"I was twelve. I survived because I shifted early and got out. Caleb was supposed to die that night. I saw him burning. I heard him scream.
But something… something inhuman brought him back.
And now? He's more monster than man."
⸻
Evelyn
I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who watched his entire family die?
"I'm sorry," I said softly. It felt small, but true.
He met my eyes. "I didn't tell you this to scare you."
"Then why?"
"Because you need to understand — this isn't just about me. Caleb… he's killing with purpose. He's drawing me out. And now he knows about you."
I swallowed. "Why me?"
He didn't answer immediately. Then he pulled something from his pocket — a small, torn envelope. Old. Yellowed.
He handed it to me.
"Read it," he said.
The handwriting was jagged. Faded. It looked like it had been written in a hurry:
To the Blackthorn heir,
The girl will be the key. She carries the blood, though she'll never know it. Protect her. Or lose everything.
— H.
I stared at it. "What does this mean?"
"My grandfather got this weeks before the fire. He never told anyone. I found it in a box years later."
"The girl," I whispered. "You think that's… me?"
He nodded slowly. "Your family came to Blackwater about sixteen years ago, right?"
"Yes. My mom never talks about before that."
"I think you're part of this — whether you knew it or not. And if Caleb thinks so too… that's why he's coming."
I shook my head. "No. I'm normal. I'm not like you."
"Maybe not now," Lucian said. "But bloodlines have a way of waking up when danger gets too close."
And then — a noise.
Thump.
Not inside. Outside.
Lucian's head snapped to the door. His body tensed like a bowstring pulled taut.
He was on his feet in seconds, opening the door — but no one was there.
Only the cold.
And something at our feet.
A shredded piece of red cloth… dripping with blood.
⸻
Lucian
My heart sank.
The cloth was familiar. I'd seen Evelyn wear this scarf earlier in the week. But it wasn't hers anymore — it was torn, stained, and worse…
Marked.
A symbol burned into the fabric with blood.
A spiral claw.
Caleb's signature.
"He was here," I said, voice hollow.
Evelyn backed away, her face pale.
"I didn't even hear him," she whispered.
"He didn't want you to. He wanted you to know he could have taken you."
A warning.
A threat.
I crushed the cloth in my fist.
"He's playing games now," I muttered. "But next time, it won't be just a message."
She looked up at me, eyes glassy. "What do we do?"
I took a breath, every inch of my wolf screaming to fight.
"We stop running."
⸻
Evelyn
I couldn't sleep that night.
Every creak in the house made me flinch. Every gust of wind felt like claws against the windows.
But I wasn't just scared.
I was angry.
Mark was dead.
Caleb — the rogue — had killed him. And now he was hunting me like I was some game piece in a nightmare. Like I was a pawn to draw Lucian out.
No. Not anymore.
I picked up the letter again. Read the words over and over.
The girl will be the key.
I didn't know what that meant yet.
But I would find out.
Even if it meant unlocking whatever truth my blood was hiding.
Even if it meant becoming something I didn't understand yet.
Because monsters weren't the only ones who could fight.