Chapter 18 Ollie's Discovery (Ollie POV)
Chapter 18 Ollie's Discovery (Ollie POV)
It's 2:47 AM and I'm twelve pages deep into a Reddit thread titled "Bloodlines That Shouldn't Exist."
My eyes burn from staring at my laptop screen, but I can't stop. Not now. Not when everything is finally starting to make sense.
Danny thinks I'm crazy. He's been avoiding my calls since he came back to school yesterday, probably because I keep asking him if he's "experiencing any unusual physical changes" and "noticing heightened sensory perception." But I know what I saw in that cafeteria. His eyes flashed gold.
That's not normal teenage anger. That's not steroids or a growth spurt or "good genes."
I click to the next forum link, this one hosted on some dark web site that required three different browsers and a VPN to access. The interface is ancient, black background, green text, like something from the early 2000s. But the content...
Subject: Moonheart Bloodline - Last Known Survivor?
My cursor hovers over the thread. I've been avoiding this one for the past hour because the title alone makes my stomach twist. But I click anyway.
The first post is from someone with the username @WolfHistorian:
The Moonheart bloodline was thought to be completely eradicated in 2007. For those unfamiliar: Moonhearts were the most powerful werewolf bloodline in North America, possibly the world. They could shift faster, heal quicker, and had an unusual resistance to silver. Some historical accounts suggest they could partially shift—maintaining human cognition with wolf abilities.
David Walter was confirmed as the last Moonheart. He went rogue in 2003, disappeared completely. Rumored to have married a human woman. He was found dead in 2008 under "mysterious circumstances." Official pack records claim it was a car accident.
I read the post three times. David Walter. Danny's last name is Walter. His dad died in a car accident when Danny was little.
This can't be a coincidence.
I scroll down to the replies. Most of them are skeptical, a few are racist conspiracy theories I skip past, but then I see one from @PacklessTruth:
My father was part of the sweep that went after the Moonhearts. He told me before he died that it wasn't about power or territory. The Alphas were scared. A single Moonheart at full power could challenge an entire pack alone. So they coordinated. Six packs working together. They called it "The Culling."
David Walter didn't die in a car accident. He was executed. And if he had any children, they were supposed to be eliminated too.
My hands are shaking so hard I have to set my laptop down on my bed.
"Holy shit," I whisper to my empty room. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."
Danny's dad was murdered. And if these people are right, Danny was supposed to be killed too. That's why his mom lied to him. That's why she had that binding spell, she was hiding him.
But the spell broke. And now Danny's awakening into whatever the hell a Moonheart is supposed to be, and he has no idea that there are entire packs of werewolves who might want him dead.
I need proof. Something concrete I can show Danny that he can't dismiss as internet conspiracy theories.
I open a new browser tab and start digging deeper. Archives of pack records, digitized newspaper articles about mysterious deaths in 2007-2008, anything that mentions "Moonheart" or "David Walter."
Three hours later, my room is lit by the gray light of early dawn, and I've filled two notebooks with names, dates, and connections. My back hurts from hunching over my laptop, and I've had so much coffee that my hands have a permanent tremor.
But I found it. The connection that makes everything undeniable.
There's a PDF buried in an old supernatural news site, The Midnight Chronicle, from March 2008. The headline reads: "Tragic Accident Claims Life of Former Pack Member."
The article is short, barely three paragraphs. It describes how David Walter, age thirty-four, died when his car crashed into a tree on a rural highway outside of Portland. Survived by his wife, Sarah Walter, and five-year-old son.
The article doesn't mention Moonheart. Doesn't mention werewolves at all, actually, it's written like a regular obituary. But at the bottom, there's a quote from the investigating officer.
"The vehicle showed signs of extensive damage inconsistent with the crash itself. We're treating this as an ongoing investigation."
The case was closed two weeks later. Officially ruled an accident.
I screenshot the article and save it to a new folder labeled "DANNY - EVIDENCE."
My laptop pings with a notification. A private message in one of the forums.
From: @Silver_Truth
Subject: You're looking in the right places
I stare at the message. I didn't post anything in these forums. I've just been reading, lurking, trying to stay invisible.
How does this person know I'm here?
My finger hovers over the delete button, every instinct screaming that this is a trap. But curiosity wins. It always does with me.
I click the message.
You've been searching for information about David Walter and the Moonheart bloodline for the past four hours. You're using a VPN, but you're not as anonymous as you think. Don't worry, I'm not here to threaten you. I'm here to help.
You're friends with the boy, aren't you? The son?
My blood runs cold. I glance at my bedroom door like someone might burst through it any second. How does this person know about Danny?
I type back, my fingers clumsy on the keyboard: Who are you?
The response comes immediately:
Someone who lost everything in The Culling. Someone who's been watching the packs for fifteen years, waiting for them to make a mistake. That boy, Danny Walter, he's not just some random werewolf awakening. He's the last Moonheart. Do you understand what that means?
No, I type. Tell me.
It means every major pack in North America has a reason to want him dead. The Moonheart bloodline was eliminated because they were too powerful, too unpredictable. The Alphas made a pact—no Moonheart would ever be allowed to reach maturity.
But Danny's alive. And he's awakening. Which means someone failed to kill him when they were supposed to.
I lean back from my laptop, my mind racing. This confirms everything I've pieced together, but it's so much worse than I thought.
Why are you telling me this? I type.
Because you're his friend. Because you're human, which means you're not bound by pack politics or blood oaths. And because I think you might be one of the only people who can help him survive what's coming.
Another message appears before I can respond:
The Silvermoon Pack is in your town. Luna Jackson is the Alpha. Her husband, Thomas Jackson, led the coalition that hunted the Moonhearts. He personally executed David Walter.
I stop breathing.
Scarlett. Scarlett Jackson. The girl Danny got the restraining order against. Luna Jackson is her grandmother.
"No," I whisper. "No, no, no."
More messages flood in:
Thomas Jackson died five years ago, but Luna knows what her pack did. She knows what Danny is, or at least suspects it. Why else would her heir be so interested in him?
Danny is in danger. Not just from random supernatural threats, from the very pack that's been watching him since he arrived at that school. They're deciding what to do with him.
You need to show him everything you've found. Make him understand what he is and who his enemies are before it's too late.
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely type. How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you're not just trying to manipulate me?
The next file is a death certificate. David Anthony Walter. Cause of death: "Multiple silver-inflicted lacerations, blood loss."
Not a car accident. Murder.
The photographs are worse. I close them after the first one, I don't need to see what silver claws do to a body.
Show him, @Silver_Truth messages. Show him everything before the Silvermoon Pack decides he's too dangerous to let live.
Why are you helping us? I type. What do you want?
The chat window closes. When I try to reopen the conversation, the user @Silver_Truth doesn't exist anymore. Like they were never there.
I sit there in my desk chair as the sun rises outside my window, staring at the folder labeled "DANNY - EVIDENCE."
My best friend is a werewolf. His father was murdered by an organized coalition of supernatural creatures. And the girl he got a restraining order against is the granddaughter of the man who led the execution.
Danny won't believe me. He's been dismissing everything I say about the supernatural for weeks. He thinks I'm obsessed with conspiracy theories, that I'm seeing patterns where there aren't any.
But I have proof now. Undeniable, documented proof.
I grab my phone and start screenshotting every file, every document, every piece of evidence. If something happens to my laptop, if these files somehow disappear, I need backups.
Thirty minutes later, I have 127 screenshots saved to my phone and uploaded to three different cloud services.
I open my texts with Danny. Our last conversation was two days ago, right before he stopped responding:
Me: dude are you ok? you looked really sick at school
Danny: I'm fine. Just tired.
Me: you know you can talk to me about anything right? like literally anything
Danny: I know. I'm good. Just need to sleep.
He hasn't opened any of my messages since then. But I text anyway:
Me: Danny. I know you're not answering. But I found something. Something about your dad. Something your mom lied about. I have proof. Real proof. Please call me.
I hit send and stare at my phone. The message shows as delivered but not read.
I try calling. It goes straight to voicemail.
"Danny, it's Ollie. I know you think I'm crazy, but you need to see what I found. It's about your dad. About how he really died. Just... please call me back. Please."
I hang up and slump forward, pressing my forehead against my desk.
My best friend is in danger, and I'm the only one who knows the whole truth. But he won't listen to me because I'm just Ollie—the weird kid who believes in conspiracy theories and spends too much time online.
Except this time, the conspiracy is real.
I look at my phone again. Still no response from Danny.
There has to be another way.