Chapter 5: The Lineage of the Mark
The mother of Megan noticed her confusion, and her expression softened a bit. "Take a seat, honey," she said, pointing to the sofa. "This will be another somewhat long conversation, juju."
Her laughter was soft, almost musical, but it failed to calm the whirlwind in Duncan's mind. He slumped onto the sofa, feeling the cold leather against his back. Shame flooded him once again.
"C-can I have my clothes back?" he asked in a voice so small and embarrassed it was barely audible.
Elena looked at him, and for the first time, a spark of something like amusement shined in her blue eyes. "Don't worry about that," she replied. "If it's embarrassing for you to be like this..." she made a dramatic pause, her gaze moving from Megan to Mia, who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown sensing what her mother would force her to do, "then all of us will take off our clothes as well," she said without any hesitation or pity for her daughter.
Mia jumped as if she had been stepped on. "Mom! What are you saying? He's a complete stranger!" she protested, her face burning with shame and blushing.
Her mother cut her off with a wave of her hand, absolute authority in her gesture. "He's not a stranger now, Mia, and you know it—thank your sister. He is family now."
"What? What family? How suddenly...?" Mia stopped dead. Her eyes went wide as she looked at her sister. Megan, with a smile adorning her beautiful face and without the slightest hint of shame, was already completely naked, except for tiny amber panties that matched her eyes perfectly. Her slender body, with soft curves and luminous skin, was exposed without embarrassment. She approached Duncan and, to his surprise, sat beside him on the sofa, wrapping her left arm around his so he could feel her soft breasts—a possessive and affectionate gesture.
Mia then looked at her mother, and a groan of defeat escaped her lips. Her mother had also shed her clothes with the same ethereal ease with which she had undressed Duncan. Now she stood, imposing and majestic as a goddess, wearing only black lace panties that contrasted dramatically with her pale skin. Her curves, especially the imposing volume of her breasts, were such a powerful affirmation of her presence that it was hard to look away.
"Quick, baby, take off your clothes," ordered the mother, her voice making it clear it wasn't a suggestion.
Mia knew that if she didn't obey, her mother would do something worse. Defeated, with slumped shoulders and muttering protests in her heart, she had no choice. With clumsy and quick movements, she shed her shirt and shorts. And then, she realized. A blush like never before covered her from head to toe. She wasn't wearing panties. Clearly, never in her worst nightmares had she anticipated this development in the tranquility of her night.
Choking back a cry, Mia crossed her arms desperately, one hand trying to cover her vagina and the other pressed over her breasts, which, ironically, only served to enhance them and make her look even sexier in her forced vulnerability. Her body was a more voluptuous and rounded version than Megan's, with generous curves and skin that glowed in the firelight.
Duncan, overwhelmed by the succession of events and now surrounded by the glorious and terrifying nakedness of the three women, felt his body react out of pure biological instinct, completely beyond his control. A wave of heat rushed through him, and before he could realize it, a firm and implacable erection formed, lifting the fabric of his boxers into a clear tent. In his state of confusion and shock, he couldn't fully control the reaction, and the pink tip of his erect penis peeked out from the elastic waistband of his underwear, surprising everyone present.
The three women looked. Megan smiled, a curious and slightly triumphant smile. Mia looked away instantly, her blush reaching a nuclear level. Megan's mother, on the other hand, arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow and let out a soft purr: "Ummm... Ohhh, boy. How big you are... quite the adult down there. How on earth did I not notice before?"
Duncan, feeling like the earth should swallow him whole at that very moment, clumsily tried to cover himself with his hands, stammering apologies. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, it's just... this is very... I didn't..."
"There, there, calm down," Elena calmed him, approaching and taking a seat in an armchair across from him with an elegance that made being naked seem like the most formal attire in the world. "As I said, you are family now. And after the talk we have, you'll slowly get used to the idea; it will change the way you see things." She paused, and her gaze became serious, deep. "Well, that is if you accept it, deep down."
Duncan, still trying to process the surreal scene and his own physiological reaction, stared at her. Fear and confusion were still there, but also a burning curiosity and the strange warmth emanating from Megan at his side—and although it was faint, he inexplicably felt something similar for Mia.
"W-what do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
The woman smiled, a smile that promised ancient truths and an intertwined destiny. "It means, Duncan Grey, that your normal life is over. And that ours... has just acquired a new and very interesting member. But the final choice, after hearing the truth, will be yours."
The fire in the fireplace roared nearby, casting dancing shadows over the naked bodies and expectant faces. The long conversation, the one that would change everything, was about to begin.
The silence that followed Elena's story was dense, charged with echoes of ancestral wars and hidden races. Duncan broke it with the question that had been burning in his mind since he woke up in that strange bed.
"So..." he said, his voice a bit raspy, "you mean I'm a bastard? Of some kind of supernatural class? A... turned werewolf, or something like that."
Elena shook her head, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "No, my boy. You are much more special than that. When I inspected your body, I noticed something peculiar. That wound on your shoulder... it's strange. It hasn't disappeared."
She leaned in, her gesture becoming didactic. "A werewolf, upon awakening their powers, would heal instantly. Furthermore, they would suffer an alarming physical change: muscles expanding, bones remodeling—that whole process followed by tremendous pain. Turned vampires become pale as the moon, and their eyes change to blood red. Purebloods have gray eyes. And the turned cannot tolerate the sun; they only earn it with power, after many, many years of practice and self-knowledge."
She paused to make sure Duncan was following. "Wolves, for their part, can be strong alone, but united they are unstoppable. Turned ones have light brown eyes, a common trait even in humans. It's hard to distinguish them unless you have a very sharp sense of smell because they smell different. And they can't fully transform until they join a pack, or they will be omegas forever, which isn't bad if they want a quiet life. You'd be surprised how many turned ones form their own packs among themselves. Since they can't turn others and have long lives, they prefer community. That way they spare themselves the pain of losing their own. To become stronger, they must live in nature, become one with it, until they reach their peak."
Mia, who had been listening intently, added: "Then there are the hybrids. Half-breeds between a human and a werewolf. They have yellow eyes. Sometimes they glow in the dark. They are beautiful, to me," she said, and her tone darkened, "though many despise them. Because, despite their strength, they come from what they consider a weak race: the human one."
Duncan took in the information, and a new doubt arose. "Vampires... can they also be born as hybrids, like wolves?"
Elena let out a giggle. "That would be impossible. The undead do not conceive life... although sometimes God likes to surprise the world."
The mention of divinity made Duncan blink. "Does God exist?"
Elena's gaze became maternal but firm. "Yes. And don't come at me with those 'why didn't He do anything to end the war?' nonsense and blah blah. Remember that free will is for everyone, okay?"
Duncan nodded, a bit ashamed. "Well... let's continue."
"That's right," Elena continued, regaining her animated tone. "Pure wolves are so powerful they can literally... impregnate any creature. Heh, heh. Even noble vampiresses. And it's been proven. Heh, heh."
She cleared her throat, returning to seriousness. "But this is the part I wanted to get to, my little one. You are very lucky. Could you tell me how you got that mark on your shoulder?"
Duncan took a deep breath. He told them everything. Even the part where he was stood up, the walk late at night along the deserted highway, the dark figure that emerged from nowhere, the soul-crushing pain in his shoulder, and then the creature. He didn't omit any details, feeling a strange need to be completely honest with these women.
Elena listened, and when he finished, her expression was one of understanding. "I understand. And I'm very sorry for her. If she forgot you, it's her loss." Then her gaze turned playful and directed at Megan and glanced sideways at Mia. "Fufú, now we will be with you forever. Heh, heh."
Before Duncan could react, Megan lunged at him, wrapping him in a warm, firm hug, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Duncan blushed intensely, but a wave of calm, of belonging, suddenly flooded him, drowning out all his confusion and anxiety.
Elena noticed it instantly. "See? That feeling you like so much is because you've been linked with Megan from the moment you met. Although this link is different from a normal one—you have to learn to control it or it can spiral out of control if you feel very strong emotions, and even more so since it's a link of three," she said this last part in her mind, "all because of your race." Then she said aloud, "And it is because of your race."
Duncan looked at her, bewildered. "My race?"
"Yes," Elena confirmed, her voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "You are one in three thousand, Duncan. The creature that marked you... is the terror of wolves and vampires. The reason the Great War came to an end. The entity that forced the truce, the fear that united mortal enemies. That is what you now carry in your blood, in your essence. You are not a bastard. You are not a turned one. You are something much more powerful and rare."
The air seemed to leave the room. Duncan looked at his shoulder, where under the bandage pulsed a mark that was no longer just a wound, but a legacy. A terrifying legacy. To be
continued...