My eyes lost focus on the coffee machine again, the drip-drip-drip the only steady thing in a morning that already felt wrong. Sleep had been a stranger all night. I'd spent it curled into a tight ball, phone screen burning my retinas, typing variations of "lycanthropy real cases" and "how to identify a lycan."
I felt disgusted and disappointed in myself.
But then I spent the rest of the night reading Reddit threads about people who claimed that their partners had to be supernatural entities.
I hated how easily Alistair's calm words had burrowed under my skin. Benny might be an infuriating, self-centered idiot, but I couldn't imagine him turning into an oversized dog. That was too far. Wasn't it?
The mug overflowed. Scalding coffee licked my knuckles.
"Shit." I jerked back, shaking my hand, then wiped the spill with trembling fingers.
My phone vibrated against the counter. My chest thumped aggressively when Benny's name glowed like a bruise.
I stared at it too long. Long enough that my thumb hovered over "decline." Long enough that memories flickered—his laugh in the beginning, the way he used to pull me close like I was something precious. Long enough that doubt crept in again.
I should ignore it. I should block him. But part of me needed to prove he was just... human
I answered before I could talk myself out of it.
"What do you want?"
"Chloe." His gruff voice comes through, less familiar than I remembered. It made my stomach twist harder. "We need to talk."
"Do we? About what exactly?" I pressed my back against the kitchen counter, eyes darting to the windows like he might be outside right now.
Werewolves aren't birds, Chloe.
"I've got things to say. Can we meet?" He asks.
No, we can't. I broke up with him. I don't care what he has to tell me. It doesn't matter.
But what if it does? What does he have to say?
I lick my lips, threading my fingers through my hair.
"I'll meet you at Jerry's in an hour." I say and don't wait for a response before hanging up.
I stood there, breathing shallow, coffee forgotten and cooling on the counter.
My phone clatters as I drop it on the counter, and I sigh as I pick up my full-to-the-brim mug of coffee and start sipping on it.
******
The bell above Jenny's door chimed too cheerfully when I walked in. Benny was already in the booth we used to call "ours," shoulders hunched, staring at his phone like it owed him answers.
I felt sick the second our eyes met.
He started to stand. I waved him down fast, not wanting anyone to think we were reuniting. I gave Corey a tight smile—she knew the story—and slid into the seat across from him, arms crossed like armor.
"Chloe," he said, voice low.
"Benny." I kept mine flat, but inside everything was shaking.
He still looked like the guy I'd crushed on at the theme park five months ago: blond, blue-eyed, easy smile, built like he spent hours in the gym. Except he didn't. He washed dishes part-time and complained that working out was exhausting.
"You ordering?" he asked, already lifting a hand toward Corey.
"No." My throat felt raw. "I'm not staying long. Just say it."
He exhaled through his nose, the sound impatient. "Who were you with last night?"
The question landed like a slap. I stared at him, pulse thudding in my ears.
"That's why I'm here?" My voice cracked on the last word. "To tell you who I was with?"
"I'm asking." He leaned forward. The table felt suddenly too small. "I need to know."
"You don't need to know anything about me anymore." I wrapped my fingers around the edge of my scarf, knuckles white. "We're done. You don't get to show up at my place. You don't get to ask questions. This is the last time I'm saying it."
His jaw tightened. "Why do you have to make everything so hard? I've been trying to fix us. I've been trying to show you I can change."
"You've been trying to control me." The words tasted bitter. "That's not love, Benny. That's not fixing anything."
"I'm desperate, okay?" His voice dropped, almost pleading. "I just want to keep you safe."
"Safe?" A hollow laugh escaped me, but it sounded more like a sob. "The only thing I've ever needed safety from is you."
He flinched like I'd hit him. For a second I almost felt guilty—old habit. Then he leaned closer, elbows on the table, shrinking the air between us until I could smell his cologne, the same one he wore when we first met.
"You belong to me, Chloe."
The words sank into me like ice water.
I stared at him, chest tight, tears prickling the backs of my eyes—not from sadness, but from the sheer exhaustion of it all. "I'm not yours. I was never yours."
His fist came down on the table.
The crack rang through the diner like a gunshot. Coffee cups rattled. Conversations died. I jumped so hard my spine hit the back of the booth.
He didn't move his hand. Just stared at me, breathing hard.
"You. Are. Mine."
For one horrible heartbeat, his pupils flared—bright, unnatural gold at the edges. Then it was gone. Or maybe it had never been there.
I couldn't breathe.
Corey appeared beside us, voice soft but firm. "Everything okay?"
"We're fine," Benny snapped without looking at her.
She didn't move right away. Her eyes flicked to me—asking. I couldn't answer. My mouth was dry, my heart slamming against my ribs.
When she finally stepped back, I forced myself to speak.
"What is wrong with you?"
He crossed his arms, calm again. Too calm. "Nothing. You?"
My gaze dropped to the table. A fresh dent stared back at me. Deep, splintered wood where his fist had landed.
I looked at him—really looked.
Benny didn't work out. He hated the gym. Complained it made him tired. Yet he'd just cracked solid wood like it was nothing.
I'd never seen his apartment. Never met a single friend. Never heard a family story.
And the heat. Even now, three days before Christmas, he sat in a tank top and jeans—no coat, no hat—while everyone else was bundled up. I used to tease him about running hot. Now it didn't feel funny.
And the growls. The way he'd growl low in his throat when he was angry. I used to tease him about it.Now the sound echoed in my head like a warning.
An article I read briefly during my research phase popped into my head. It said, "Lycans are typically highly territorial and, while intelligent, are prone to intense anger and violence."
"You're violent," I whispered. "For no reason. We didn't work. That should have been the end. But you keep coming back. You keep trying to scare me into staying. That's not love. That's… something else."
"You can't leave me, Chloe." His voice was low, almost gentle. "It's never going to be over."
The last word curled into a growl—real, animal, unmistakable.
My hand slipped into my pocket. Fingers closed around the silver chain.
Corey lifted her phone from behind the counter. Police?
I gave the smallest nod.
Benny caught it. He whipped around.
"Get up," he said, chair scraping violently. "You're coming with me. Now."
"I'm not."
"You don't have a choice." He reached across the table.
I didn't think. I yanked the chain free and pressed it hard against his wrist.
He recoiled with a hiss—sharp, pained. Blisters erupted across his skin in angry streaks.
The diner went silent.
He stared at his wrist, then at me, eyes wide with something between shock and rage.
"What did you do?"
I couldn't stop shaking. "Silver burns wolves. Maybe you should watch more movies."
His face twisted. "You little—"
He raised his good hand.
I flinched hard, curling in on myself, waiting for the sting I knew too well from before.
It never came.
"That," a calm, velvet voice said, "would be exceptionally stupid."
I opened my eyes.
Polished shoes. Dark slacks. Then Alistair—tall, unruffled—holding Benny's wrist in an iron grip, stopping the swing an inch from my cheek.
Benny's arm trembled. Fear—raw, animal fear—flooded his face when he saw who had him.
"Alph—"
"You're causing a scene," Alistair said evenly. "Leave. Before the police make this worse."
Benny looked at me once—long, burning—then at Alistair. He nodded jerkily, wrenched free, and stalked out into the snow without another word.
The diner exhaled.
Alistair released a quiet breath, then slid into the seat across from me. He placed my chain gently on the table between us.
"This is yours."
I stared at it, then at him. My voice came out small. "Thank you."
He studied me for a moment, then tilted his head slightly.
"Nice to see you again, Faye."