Chapter 7 The Confrontation (Brynn POV)
"Come on." Jaxon gestured toward the main building. "Not here."
"I'm not going anywhere with you." I pressed harder against the window, as if the glass could somehow protect me. "Whatever you are, whatever this is, I don't want any part of it."
"You don't have a choice anymore." His voice was gentle, but the gold hadn't faded from his eyes. "You saw us. That means we need to talk, whether you want to or not."
"Or what? You'll make me?"
He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I'd rather not. But Brynn, standing in a glass corridor at two in the morning isn't the place for this conversation. Anyone could walk by."
"There's no one here."
"Marcus does rounds every hour. He'll be through here in about fifteen minutes." Jaxon held out his hand. "Please. Let me explain before this gets more complicated."
I stared at his outstretched hand, weighing my options. Run and get caught by whatever supernatural speed they possessed. Scream and wake the entire campus, which would definitely get me expelled. Or follow him and hope that the guy who'd patiently explained derivatives to me yesterday wasn't planning to murder me tonight.
"Fine." I ignored his hand, pushing off the window. "But somewhere public. The library"
"Is locked at this hour." He lowered his hand. "There's an empty classroom in the north wing. Door doesn't lock from the inside, and it's right next to the main corridor. Public enough?"
It would have to be.
We walked in tense silence, him leading the way through darkened hallways lit only by emergency lighting. Every shadow seemed threatening now, every sound amplified. I kept several feet of distance between us, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
The classroom he chose was on the second floor a standard setup with desks arranged in rows, a whiteboard at the front, and windows overlooking the quad. Jaxon flipped on the lights, and the fluorescent brightness felt almost aggressive after the dimness of the hallways.
"Sit." He gestured to a desk in the front row.
"I'll stand."
"Suit yourself." He leaned against the teacher's desk, arms crossed, looking more tired than threatening now. The gold had faded from his eyes, leaving them the normal amber I'd seen yesterday. Almost human. Almost.
"So." I gripped my phone like a lifeline. "Are you going to tell me what you are, or do I have to guess?"
"We're werewolves."
The word hung in the air between us. Ridiculous. Impossible. The stuff of bad movies and Halloween costumes.
"Werewolves," I repeated flatly.
"Yes."
"Like, full moon and silver bullets and howling at the moon, werewolves?"
"The full moon affects us, but we don't lose control during it. Silver does hurt, but it won't kill us unless it's specifically enchanted. And the howling thing is mostly voluntary." A slight smile tugged at his mouth. "Hollywood gets a lot wrong."
I laughed. The sound came out too high, edging toward hysterical. "This is insane. You're insane. I'm going back to my room."
I made it three steps toward the door before he spoke again.
"You felt it during the assembly, didn't you? The change."
I froze.
"Your bones shifting. Your senses sharpening. Something wild clawing its way to the surface." His voice was quiet, understanding. "You thought you were having a breakdown, but it wasn't a breakdown, Brynn. It was your wolf trying to emerge."
"Stop." My hands clenched into fists. "Just stop."
"The suppressants your grandmother has been giving you are failing. That's why you can't sleep. Why you're restless. Why you heard us training from the gym entrance even though we were in a soundproofed room."
"How do you know about my grandmother?"
"Because the scent you released during your partial transformation told me everything I needed to know about your bloodline." He pushed off the desk, taking a careful step toward me. "You're not human, Brynn. You never were. You're one of us."
"No." I backed toward the door. "No, that's not possible. I'm just I'm just a person with anger issues. That's all. That's what Dr. Reeves said."
"Dr. Reeves is covering for you. The whole administration is. Do you really think they'd let a student have a public breakdown and just call it mass hysteria if something supernatural wasn't involved?"
"You're saying the school knows about werewolves?"
"The school is neutral ground. A place where different packs can send their children without worrying about territorial conflicts." He took another step closer. "That's why they covered up your transformation. They're trying to protect the secret."
My back hit the door. "If all of this is true, why are you telling me?"
"Because you're in danger." His expression turned serious. "Your suppressants are completely broken now. The next full moon is in two weeks, and when it comes, you're going to transform whether you want to or not. If you don't know what you are, if you haven't learned control, you could hurt someone. Or worse, you could reveal yourself to the wrong people."
"What wrong people?"
He hesitated, and I saw that same conflict from earlier like he was weighing how much to tell me. "There are packs that hunt rogues. Werewolves without pack protection. If they find you before you're claimed by a pack, they'll either force you to join them or..."
"Or what?"
"Or eliminate the threat you represent."
The words sent ice through my veins. "So I'm just supposed to accept this? That I'm some kind of monster that people want to kill?"
"You're not a monster. You're a werewolf. There's a difference."
"I don't see one."
"Then let me show you." He took a breath, squaring his shoulders. "I'm going to shift. Partially. It won't hurt you, I promise, but you need to see this. You need to understand what you are."
"Don't." Panic clawed at my throat. "Please don't."
"You need proof, Brynn. And I'm out of other ways to give it to you."
The change started with his eyes. The amber darkened, then brightened to molten gold. His pupils elongated into slits, more animal than human. I wanted to look away but couldn't.
His jaw restructured next. I heard the bones crack and reform, his face elongating slightly into something that was still recognizably Jaxon but also fundamentally other. His teeth lengthened into fangs, sharp and white and definitely capable of tearing flesh.
His hands were the worst. His fingers extended, bones shifting beneath the skin, and his nails grew into curved claws that looked like they could cut through steel. The tendons in his forearms stood out like cables as muscle mass increased, his entire frame becoming larger, more powerful.
He wasn't fully transformed he still stood on two legs, still wore his clothes, still had Jaxon's basic features. But he wasn't human anymore. He was something primal and dangerous and impossible.
"This is what we are," he said, his voice rougher, deeper. "This is what you'll become."
The room tilted.
I felt my knees give out, felt myself falling. The last thing I registered before darkness took me was Jaxon moving with that inhuman speed, catching me before I hit the ground, and the realization that everything I'd believed about the world, about myself, had just shattered beyond repair.
When I came to, I was lying on the floor with something soft under my head. My vision swam, and for a disoriented moment, I didn't remember where I was or why the ceiling tiles were spinning.
Then it came rushing back. The gym. The chase. The classroom.
Jaxon transforming into something that shouldn't exist.
I sat up too fast, and the world tilted again. A hand steadied my shoulder human now, no claws and I jerked away from the contact.
"Easy." Jaxon crouched a few feet away, giving me space. He looked normal again, completely human except for the concern etched across his features. "You fainted. Hit your head on the way down, but I caught you before you cracked it on the floor."
"That was real." My voice came out as a whisper. "What I just saw. That was real."
"Yes."
"You're a werewolf."
"Yes."
"And you're saying I'm one too."
"Yes." He settled into a sitting position, clearly trying to appear non-threatening. "I know it's a lot to process."
"A lot to process?" I laughed, the sound bordering on hysterical again. "You just turned into a monster in front of me and told me I'm going to do the same thing."
"Not a monster. A wolf."
"What's the difference?"
"Monsters hurt people without conscience. Wolves are just predators doing what predators do." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know this is terrifying. When I first shifted, I was eight years old, and I thought I was dying. But my family was there to guide me through it. They explained what I was, taught me control. You didn't have that."
"Because my grandmother drugged me to keep me human."
"To keep you hidden," he corrected. "Which, given your bloodline, was probably the smart choice."
"What's that supposed to mean? What's wrong with my bloodline?"
His expression shuttered. "That's... complicated. And not something I can explain right now."
"Why not?"
"Because there are politics involved. Old grudges. Things that happened long before either of us was born." He met my gaze. "What matters right now is that you need help. Training. Someone to teach you control before the full moon."
"And let me guess you're volunteering?"
"I'm the only option you have." He stood, offering his hand again. "Your grandmother's suppressants worked when you were a kid, but you're too strong now. Your wolf is going to emerge whether you're ready or not. You can either learn to control it, or you can let it control you."
I stared at his hand, my mind racing. Everything I'd believed about reality had just been upended. Werewolves were real. I was one of them. And the boy I'd been developing confusing feelings for was apparently the only thing standing between me and complete disaster.
"If I agree to let you help me," I said slowly, "I want honesty. No more deflecting. No more 'it's complicated.'"
"I'll tell you what I can."
"That's not good enough."
"It's going to have to be." His tone was firm. "There are things I can't explain yet. Not because I don't want to, but because knowing them puts you in more danger than you're already in."
"How much danger am I in?"
"Enough that you should trust me when I say some secrets need to stay secret." He lowered his hand when I didn't take it, shoving it into his pocket instead. "But I promise, Brynn, I will tell you everything when the time is right."
"And when is that?"
"When you're strong enough to handle it." He moved toward the door. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your dorm."
"Just like that? You drop a bomb about werewolves and bloodlines and mysterious danger, and now we're just going back to normal?"
"There's nothing normal about any of this." He opened the door, pausing to look back at me. "But we have to pretend there is. At least until you're ready for the truth."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to demand answers to the thousand questions spinning through my head. But exhaustion was setting in—bone-deep and overwhelming and I didn't have the energy to fight anymore.
So I followed him into the hallway, my legs shaky but functional, and let him lead me back toward Sterling Hall through the pre-dawn darkness. We didn't talk. There was too much to say and no safe way to say it.
When we reached the entrance to the women's dorm, Jaxon stopped.
"Tomorrow," he said quietly. "Nine AM. We'll continue your Calculus lesson like nothing happened."
"And then?"
"And then, once we're sure no one's watching, I'll start teaching you what you really need to know." His amber eyes held mine. "How to be a wolf."