Chapter 25

25

A ll I know is searing, blinding pain . It eclipses all rational thought and any sense of the world around me, to the point where all I can do is pray for a quick death to put me out of my misery. My bones feel like they're splintering apart. My muscles feel like they're shredding to ribbons. It's as if I'm being torn to pieces from the inside out, every inch of my body on fire while an explosion detonates inside my skull.

I've known pain before, but never like this. The harder I try to fight through it, the more it hurts.

Soon after my mom died, I began to recognize a darkness growing inside me; a beast borne of rage that I kept carefully locked away. I thought it was metaphorical- a coping mechanism to compartmentalize my emotions- but tonight he's suddenly taken on a life of his own, turning me into the very monster I've spent the better part of my life hunting.

It doesn't make sense. If it didn't hurt so damn much, I'd think this was all some fever dream or elaborate hoax. Maybe that persistent headache I've been having really is a brain tumor, and the sickness has taken over, giving me vivid hallucinations.

Or maybe my entire life has been a lie .

The moment Avery takes off sprinting down the hallway away from me, there's a harsh yanking sensation in my chest, something deep inside urging me to go after her. The instinct is overwhelming, and it's the last push the beast needs to finally claw his way through my skin. Before I can even grasp what's happening, I'm catapulted to the back of my own mind as he fully inhabits my body, bones snapping and rearranging until all traces of my humanity are gone and I've taken on the form of a wolf.

It doesn't hurt anymore now that the change is complete, but I'm not in control of my own body, either. It's like I'm watching the world through the animal's eyes as he throws back his head, a low howl tearing from his throat.

Our throat.

Not only do I hear it, but I feel the strain in my vocal cords.

Still, the beast is in the driver's seat now. I have no control over the way he springs forward, charging out of the cell and down the corridor in the direction Avery went. The door at the end is still ajar, and he noses it open wide enough to slip through, bounding into the old cellar and making for the set of steps at the back. They're illuminated in pale moonlight from the open exit door, and dirt and debris crunch underneath the wolf's paws- our paws- as we ascend the stairs to the opening at the top, leaping outside into the warm night air.

My eye is immediately drawn to the full moon in the sky, and instinct kicks in once again as I throw back my head, letting loose another deep, mournful howl.

The beast wants Avery, but she's nowhere to be seen. I can scent her on the breeze, delicate notes of pear and wildflowers awakening my senses and sending my wolf into a frenzy. I pinpoint which direction it's coming from, but right as I'm about to spring into the forest to go after her, movement in my periphery has me snapping my head sideways in alarm. A soldier dressed in tactical gear rounds the corner of the cabin with his gun at the ready .

The urge to go after Avery immediately shifts to the need to protect her.

She's important, she's everything, she's ours. We can't let him get to her.

I spin to face the soldier, hackles raised and ready to fight. Since he's in full tac gear with night vision goggles, I can't even tell who it is, but his identity doesn't matter when he's got his gun trained on me.

I lunge in his direction.

He pulls the trigger, and I flinch at both the popping sound of the gun going off and the sting of a tranquilizer dart sinking into the flesh of my shoulder.

Fire sears through my veins. My muscles seize. I let out a roar, snapping my jaws at the asshole who just shot me, and he responds by popping off another shot. A second tranq dart pierces my skin, the sting in my body intensifying and my vision starting to blacken.

I've used LD on many werewolves, but I've never felt the effects firsthand. It's dizzying, fucking excruciating , and within seconds I'm collapsing to the ground in a useless heap, the world around me fading as I slip from consciousness.

Freezing cold water splashes over my face, jerking me awake. My eyes snap open and I gasp for air, the shock constricting my lungs and making me feel like I'm suffocating. As I struggle to catch my breath, my vision comes into focus, and I find myself smack dab in the middle of my worst nightmare.

I'm tied to a chair, thick zip-ties pinning my wrists behind my back and my ankles to the chair legs. The concrete floor beneath my feet is stained a sickly brown color from the blood that was spilled upon it weeks ago, and four Guild soldiers surround me, their faces contorted in sneers of disgust and hatred.

I'm a prisoner. I'm in a cell. And I'm going to die here.

I know it as sure as I know my own name, but it isn't survival instinct that has me sitting up straighter, meeting the eyes of each man standing in the cell. It's the shock and confusion over why I'm here in the first place; the refusal to accept what I turned into last night when the beast escaped the cage in my mind.

"Well look who's awake," Collins sneers, dropping the bucket in his hands to the floor with a loud clatter. Templeton is standing beside him, but the names of the other two soldiers with them escape me. They're new recruits, and judging by the sadistic looks on their faces, they're eager to get their hands dirty.

Before I can utter a word, Collins draws his fist back, winding up before slamming it into the side of my face. His knuckles connect with a loud crack, blood pooling in my mouth as a second punch lands from someone else on the other side. All four of them close in on me, landing blows to my head, my face, my torso. I scream out in rage as one of my ribs cracks. I spit blood at Templeton as he punches my mouth and knocks one of my teeth loose. I writhe against my bonds, fighting to get free, but my efforts are in vain. The hits just keep on coming, and I'm powerless to stop them.

Then all at once, the onslaught ends. I hear the sound of heavy boots scuffing against the floor as someone approaches, my father's deep voice barking out a command.

" Leave ."

In response to that single word, the soldiers who were attacking me skitter away like mice and I slowly lift my aching head. One of my eyes is nearly swollen shut, but I watch through the other as the four of them scramble up the stairs, exiting the basement and slamming the door behind them at the top .

Spitting a glob of blood on the floor, I turn my gaze on my father, every inch of my body screaming in pain. "Wh… why?" I stammer.

He folds his thick forearms across his chest, pinning me with an icy glare. "You know why."

The moment I see that look in his eyes, something inside me shrivels up and dies. He's looking at me like I'm a stranger. Like I'm the enemy.

"But I'm your son," I rasp, feebly trying to appeal to his sense of decency. I now know that there's an actual beast lurking beneath my skin, but I'm still me .

"You're no son of mine," Dad spits. His lip curls in disgust as his gaze drops to give me a slow once-over, his glare even more cutting when his eyes return to mine. "You're a monstrosity."

I shake my head, my mind still grappling to come to terms with what transpired last night while unable to comprehend how it's even possible. My mom died from cancer. I watched the disease eat away at her until there was barely anything left. If she was a werewolf, her body would've healed, not consumed itself. And if what Avery said is true, that it's a genetic condition, then that must mean…

"Are you like me?" I choke out, trying to make sense of it all. "Mom couldn't have been…"

"Your mother wasn't a werewolf," he cuts in, his frown deepening as he advances a step in my direction. "She was a whore. I loved her, though, so when she came crawling back to me after we broke up, scared and knocked up with some other man's child, I helped her get away and raised you as my own." He narrows his eyes on me, jaw clenched tightly. "What a fucking mistake that was."

All the air leaves my lungs on a single exhale, my brain short-circuiting. "Dad…"

"Don't call me that," he snaps, kicking the leg of the chair and making my body jerk backwards. He crowds me in, his presence looming large over mine as he wraps a hand around my throat and glares down into my eyes. "You ruined everything !" he shouts, spittle flying from his lips and landing on my face. "You let her get away, and now there's only one way for you to make things right."

He grips my throat tighter, restricting my airway, then shoves backwards angrily, scrubbing a hand over his head as he turns around and paces across the cell.

A sick feeling of foreboding curls in my gut, my neck still burning from his choking grip. "How?" I ask hoarsely, even though I already know the answer. He no longer sees me as his son- or even as a person, for that matter. In his eyes, I'm reduced to nothing more than a savage beast, not worthy of breathing the same air. Any love he had for me evaporated the second I turned.

He pivots on a heel to face me again, his cold, dark eyes meeting mine. "You'll take her place," he deadpans.

My eyes widen in horror as I suck in a sharp gasp through my teeth. " Dad ," I whisper, my battered heart cracking down the middle.

His expression remains impassive. "You can deliver the package willingly, or I can put you down, cut you open, and shove the bomb inside your corpse, like I was planning on doing with her," he mutters, eyeing me with disdain. "Your choice."