(BLUE’S POV)
(FLASHBACK)
Sofia came back two days later, no heads-up, no nothing.
One second Jeremy and I were hunched over the rickety wooden table inside the hideout, arguing about the best hunting routes through the northern ridge, and the next the heavy metal door let out this low, rusty groan that echoed off the stone walls like a warning.
A rush of cold night air swept in, carrying the sharp smell of pine and damp earth.
Then she just stepped inside, calm as ever, like she’d only popped out for a quick stroll through the woods.
She looked exactly the same as when she’d left.
Not a hair out of place.
Her clothes were still neat, no wrinkles, no tears.
Her hands were clean—no blood, no dirt, nothing.
If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve sworn she’d just gone out to pick berries or something harmless like that.
Jeremy stood up right away, the chair scraping back against the dirt floor.
“You’re back,” he said, voice low but steady.
Sofia gave him one small nod.
“It’s handled.”
That was it.
Three little words.
It’s handled.
Jeremy watched her face for a long beat, searching, then he nodded back, slow and sure.
“Good.”
And just like that, the whole thing was over.
They both sat down like nothing had happened, like we were just picking up our conversation about deer trails.
I stared at them, my mouth half-open.
That couldn’t be all.
There had to be more.
My stomach twisted into a knot, tight and sick.
“What… what happened?” I asked, my voice cracking a little.
Neither of them said a word.
The silence stretched out, heavy and uncomfortable, pressing in from all sides.
“The boy,” I tried again, quieter this time, almost afraid to hear it.
“Is he—”
“It’s over, Blue,” Sofia cut in, gentle but firm.
Her eyes met mine, soft around the edges, but there was a finality in her tone that felt like a door slamming shut in my face.
I swallowed hard, the taste of old blood still lingering somewhere in the back of my throat from days ago.
“And Margaret’s family?”
More silence.
Jeremy looked away, staring at the flickering lantern on the table like it held all the answers.
Sofia just shook her head once, slow and sad.
“You don’t need to worry about it anymore,” she said softly.
And that was the end of it.
No details.
No explanations.
No telling me if the boy I’d bitten had survived, or if he’d turned into something like me, or if Margaret had even known I’d been there that night, stumbling around like a broken fool.
The whole mess—the bite, the blood, the terror—just got erased.
Buried deep.
Like it had never happened at all.
No matter how many times I asked over the next couple of days, they wouldn’t budge.
Jeremy would just pat my shoulder or change the subject.
Sofia would give me that quiet, kind smile and say something about letting the past stay in the past.
It drove me half-crazy, but I stopped pushing.
What choice did I have?
The next evening, though, everything shifted.
I was outside near the hideout entrance, sitting on a fallen log and sharpening one of the old knives we kept around, the blade scraping rhythmically against the whetstone.
The sun had dipped low, painting the trees in long shadows, and the air smelled like woodsmoke and coming night.
Jeremy walked up, his boots crunching softly on the leaves and twigs.
“Blue.”
I looked up.
His face was serious—brow furrowed, jaw set tight.
The kind of look that said whatever was coming next was big.
“What is it?” I asked, setting the knife down.
He folded his arms across his chest, leaning against a nearby tree trunk.
“I think it’s time you learned the truth about us.”
I frowned, wiping my hands on my pants.
“The truth?”
Sofia appeared behind him then, slipping out from the shadows of the hideout like she’d been waiting.
She leaned casually against the rough stone wall, arms crossed loose, and gave me a small, almost shy smile.
“You’ve already figured out that we’re not human.”
“Well… yeah,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Kinda hard to miss.”
Jeremy sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“We probably should have told you sooner.”
I blinked, heart picking up a little.
“Told me what?”
They shared a look—quick, sharp, and loaded with the kind of history you don’t need words for.
Then Jeremy stepped forward… and, out of nowhere, started stripping.
“Jeremy—what the hell are you doing?” I snapped, a cold edge of panic creeping in as Sofia casually followed his lead, fingers already tugging at her clothes.
“Sofia!” I lunged forward, grabbing her wrist before things went any further.
The horror in my voice must’ve snapped her back to herself, because she froze, blinking like she’d just remembered where she was—and who was watching.
Her face softened with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry… I forget people make a big deal out of nudity.” She winced slightly.
“Excuse me.” And just like that, she slipped away, disappearing behind a large tree.
Jeremy, however?
He didn’t stop.
I was still halfway between begging and threatening him to put his damn clothes back on when it happened.
His eyes flickered.
Then glowed.
Gold—faint at first, then brighter, burning in the dim light like fire.
A low rumble rolled out of his chest, deep and raw, vibrating through the air like distant thunder.
Every instinct in my body locked up, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose, one by one.
“Jeremy…?” I said slowly, my voice trailing off.
That’s when it started.
His bones cracked first—sharp, violent pops that made my stomach turn.
His body hunched forward, muscles swelling and shifting under his shirt like something alive was trying to break free.
My eyes went wide.
“What the—”
Fur burst out across his arms, thick and dark gray, rippling like a wave.
His hands twisted, fingers lengthening into massive paws tipped with claws that glinted in the fading light.
His face stretched, jaw widening with a sickening grind, teeth sharpening into long, deadly points.
“Jeremy?!”