Nyx lay in his room, barely aware of how he had gotten there, but sure of one thing: he couldn't leave. The truth he now carried was a secret far too dangerous to reveal. The change had been subtle, at first—a whisper of heightened senses, a strange strength, an awareness of the most minor details in his surroundings. He could hear the flutter of a moth's wings outside his window, smell the faint scent of rain approaching. It was as if the world had shifted into sharper focus, and he was at the center of it all.
For three days, Nyx had kept himself locked away. He avoided his father’s visit, his best friend’s calls, even the most mundane of social interactions. He made up excuses, pretending to be sick with a common cold, but deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out. How could he hide the impossible forever?
His father, a well-respected sheriff in Blackwater Hollow, had always taught him that their family's legacy was one of protection. They had spent generations keeping the supernatural at bay, guarding the town from the creatures that lurked in the shadows. It was a legacy Nyx had always been proud of. But now, he had become one of those creatures—a werewolf. And worse, he didn't even remember when or how it had happened.
The thought of his father finding out… It made his chest tighten with a mixture of shame and fear. If his father knew, it would be the end of everything. His legacy, his safety, their family’s reputation—it would all be destroyed. And then there were the Harrows. The Harrow family had been hunting supernaturals for generations, and if they found out what he had become… The consequences would be unimaginable.
Nyx paced his room, unable to shake the nagging sense of something else lurking within him. He could feel his senses—sharpened, heightened—pressing in on him. He could hear the distant hum of campus life, the faintest creak of the floorboards beneath his feet, the way the wind rustled the leaves outside his window. He could smell the faintest traces of something—his own sweat, the lingering scent of his father’s cologne, something else, too. His thoughts twisted and spiraled, panic creeping in. But the worst part was the constant gnawing hunger. Not just for food, but for something more—something primal. Something he was still struggling to understand.
A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. His father’s voice called through the wood, “Nyx? You in there?”
His heart skipped a beat, panic surging through him. He hadn’t seen his father in days. The cold excuse was wearing thin. He opened the door, forcing a smile.
“Dad,” Nyx said, his voice strained. “I told you, I’m not feeling well.”
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His father, a tall, broad man with the same piercing eyes as Nyx, gave him a look—a look that said everything. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You’re not fooling anyone, son. I’ve known you your whole life. Something’s wrong. You’re not yourself.”
“I’m fine, Dad,” Nyx insisted, his voice tight, his smile more forced now. “I just need some time alone.”
His father frowned, a crease forming in his brow. He studied Nyx for a long moment, as if trying to read him. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded slowly and moved back to his room.
Later that day, Nyx found himself walking through the crowded college campus, but his mind was elsewhere. The streets and voices around him faded as his thoughts spiraled back to the Alpha—the one who had turned him into something he never wanted to be. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just any Alpha. It was someone he already knew, someone powerful, someone with a long history in Blackwater Hollow.
His thoughts immediately went to the Blackwood twins, Xander and Alden. They were the Alpha brothers, the heirs of one of the oldest and most potent werewolf families in town. Nyx's heart raced at the thought of them. Alden's words from the day before echoed in his mind: “But you’d be wise to watch your back.” Could it be? Had Alden bitten him? Was he responsible for Nyx’s transformation? The idea made his blood boil, but something didn’t add up.
Nyx couldn’t wait any longer. He had to confront Alden. He had to get answers, even if it meant destroying everything.
He found Alden later that afternoon, standing by the old oak tree near the edge of campus. The moment their eyes met, Nyx knew this confrontation was inevitable. Alden didn’t seem surprised, but there was something unreadable in his expression.
“You bit me,” Nyx said, his voice low, dangerous.
Alden raised an eyebrow, his posture unshaken. “What are you talking about?”
Nyx’s anger flared, hot and uncontainable. “Don’t play dumb with me. You’re the Alpha, right? You and your brother, you’re the only ones who could’ve done this.”
Alden stepped closer, his gaze steady. “I didn’t bite you, Nyx. I swear it. My brother and I—neither of us did. We don’t bite people.”
Nyx’s stomach twisted. The world seemed to tilt as his mind reeled, the words not aligning with the weight of the truth he felt in his bones. He hadn’t expected this answer. He could still remember the Alpha’s scent, sharp and familiar, but now he couldn’t place it on Alden.
“I don’t believe you,” Nyx snapped, his fists clenched, his voice thick with frustration. But doubt crept in, making the words falter. “Then who did? Who the hell turned me into this?”
Alden’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting. There was something deeper behind his calm exterior, something that made Nyx pause. “I don’t know,” Alden said quietly, “but I think we need to figure this out together. You’re not the only one with questions, Nyx.”
Nyx stood there, struck silent. The anger that had driven him melted into a crushing, suffocating uncertainty. The world he had thought he understood—the world of family, of duty, of safety—was cracking open, and everything he knew was being replaced with something darker, something more dangerous. The truth was just out of reach, and for the first time, Nyx wasn’t sure if he was ready to find it.