Chapter 22: The Ones Left Behind
The air in the cell was stale.
Dim light filtered from a single hanging bulb, casting flickering shadows across Ryder’s bruised face.
He was chained to the floor, ankles shackled, wrists bound behind his back, blood dripping slowly from a cut above his brow.
He didn’t look afraid.
He looked amused.
That scared me more than anything.
\---
“You really think chaining me here will help?” Ryder rasped. “You’re already too late.”
I leaned forward, elbows on the table, my voice calm and cold. “You’re not the first monster I’ve put in chains.”
“No,” he smiled. “But I’m the first one you actually needed answers from.”
I didn’t flinch.
I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
Aidan stood behind me, silent but watchful. He’d been quiet the entire walk down. Even now, I could feel his energy—coiled like a spring. Ready to snap.
Ethan and Elena monitored from the other side of the glass, watching every move, every breath.
This wasn’t just an interrogation.
This was war with words.
\---
“Tell me about the experiments,” I said.
Ryder tilted his head. “You’ve seen the room. What more do you want?”
“The truth.”
He laughed. “Oh, Roxanne. You’re not ready for the truth.”
“Try me.”
He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“It started long before you were born. Gregory didn’t want a pack. He wanted a legacy. Something stronger. Something smarter. Werewolves are powerful, but predictable. He wanted evolution.”
He smiled again.
“And what better way than to study the ones caught in between?”
“The children,” I said.
“Yes,” he purred. “Children exposed to trauma. Loss. Violence. The theory was... their brains would adapt. Their instincts would evolve. Some would break. Some would bend. And some—” he looked at me like a secret—“would survive.”
“You tortured them.”
“No,” Ryder said. “We tested them. Pushed them. Shaped them. Like fire to metal.”
I slammed a hand on the table. “You murdered families.”
“You were never supposed to remember,” he said. “We gave you a new life. A mission. A purpose.”
“You gave me a lie.”
He chuckled. “You should be thanking us. You’re everything we hoped you’d become.”
\---
I rose to my feet.
Aidan placed a hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off.
I stepped closer to Ryder.
“Where are the others?”
He blinked.
“There were more, weren’t there? You said I wasn’t the only one.”
He grinned. “Still aren’t.”
“Where are they?”
He didn’t answer.
So I drove my blade through the table—stopping just short of his hand.
His breath caught.
Good.
“I’ve killed monsters for less,” I said, voice low. “You’re running out of time.”
Ryder’s smile faded.
“They were moved,” he said finally. “Out of the country. Hidden. Not all of them survived. Some... changed. Too much trauma. Too much blood. They became unstable. Uncontrollable.”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean ‘changed’?”
He licked his lips. “You think you’re just human, don’t you?”
The silence crackled.
“Your father wasn’t who you think he was,” he added. “Neither was Avery’s. That’s why you were chosen. You weren’t innocent. You were inherited.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask Gregory,” Ryder said. “If you have the spine.”
Then he leaned back and smiled, lips slick with blood.
“You’re not just a hunter, Roxanne. You’re part of what comes next.”
\---
I left the cell before I did something I couldn’t take back.
\---
Upstairs, Elena was pacing.
“That guy gives me serial killer vibes,” she muttered. “Like, ‘I keep a finger collection’ kind of vibes.”
Ethan rubbed his temples. “He didn’t even flinch when Rox threatened to cut off his hand.”
“I almost wish she had,” Elena muttered. “Ugh. Now I’m picturing him smiling while holding his own finger. Gross.”
“Focus,” I said, trying to pull myself together.
Aidan stayed behind for a while, talking to the guards.
When he returned, he handed me a folder.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Pack elder logs. Attendance and reports from every major meeting over the last twenty years. Including the years surrounding the Silverlake incident.”
I opened the folder.
Rows of names.
Times. Dates. Locations.
And one signature that caught my eye.
Aster Crowe.
My blood went cold.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“One of the oldest elders in the council,” Aidan said. “Respected. Dangerous. She was Gregory’s strategist.”
“She attended the recovery sessions?” I said.
He nodded. “And she signed off on the disappearance of Avery’s record.”
I closed the folder.
“We need to talk to her.”
\---
That night, I found Aidan on the balcony outside his chambers.
The wind ruffled his dark hair. The moon cast silver across his shoulders.
He didn’t look at me when I stepped beside him.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” I admitted.
He was quiet.
“For fifteen years, I lived with one goal: destroy the monsters who took my family. And now... it turns out those monsters wore the same colors you do.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“And I lied. About everything.”
He turned to face me.
“I was angry,” he admitted. “But not because of the lie.”
“Then why?”
“Because when I look at you… I don’t see Luna. I don’t see hunter. I see you. And that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever felt.”
I swallowed.
“I didn’t plan to feel this way,” I said.
“Neither did I.”
His hand brushed mine.
It didn’t stay.
But it didn’t pull away either.
\---
Before dawn, I received a message.
A folded scrap of paper slid beneath my door.
No name.
Just five words, scratched in shaky ink:
“You’re not safe. They know.”