Chapter 28 CHAPTER 28

Chapter 28 CHAPTER 28
Vivienne's POV
The car pulled through the familiar iron gates and up the long driveway. I'd been here before but tonight everything felt different.

Everything was different.

Mathias parked near the front steps, and we all climbed out. Rafael moved slowly, still looking pale and weak, but he was steady on his feet.

The front door opened before we reached it. Mr. Cole, the butler, stood there with his usual composed expression, though his eyes widened slightly when he saw us.

"Master Rafael," he said, taking in Rafael's disheveled appearance and the blood on his shirt. "Are you—"

"I'm fine, Cole." Rafael's voice was firm. "But we need food. Something substantial. For all of us."

"Of course, sir. Right away." Mr. Cole's eyes drifted to me, and I saw concern flash across his face when he noticed the bruises on my neck. "Miss Vivienne. Are you alright?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"The guest room is ready," Mr. Cole added. "I'll bring food up shortly."

"Thank you," Rafael said.

We stepped inside, and Emma immediately grabbed my hand. "Come on. Let's get you settled."

She led me up the stairs, down a familiar hallway to the guest room I'd slept in last night. It felt like a lifetime ago.

The room was exactly as I'd left it—bed made, curtains drawn back. My duffel bag and backpack sat on the floor where Rafael had set them down.

"Sit," Emma ordered gently, guiding me to the bed. "You look like you're about to fall over."

I sank onto the mattress, suddenly aware of how exhausted I was. Every part of my body ached. My throat throbbed with each breath.

Emma disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a warm, damp washcloth. "Here. For your face."

I took it gratefully and pressed it against my swollen cheek. The warmth felt good.

"I'll be right back," Emma said. "I'm going to grab you some water and painkillers."

She slipped out, leaving me alone with my thoughts for the first time all night.

I looked around the room. Safe. Comfortable. Nothing like the cramped, dingy bedroom I'd just left behind.

This was real. I was actually here. Actually free of Uncle Martin.

My hand went to my backpack, feeling the outline of that werewolf book through the fabric.

The door opened again. Emma came back in carrying a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. Behind her were Rafael and Mathias.

Rafael had changed his shirt—no more blood—and his color looked a bit better. Mathias carried a chair from somewhere, setting it down near the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Rafael asked, his eyes searching my face with that intense concern.

"Tired," I managed. "Confused. But... alive."

"That's what matters."

There was a soft knock, and Mr. Cole entered with a large tray. The smell of food hit me immediately—chicken soup, fresh bread, some kind of pasta. My stomach growled despite everything.

"I took the liberty of preparing comfort food," Mr. Cole said, setting the tray on the desk. "Please let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Cole," Rafael said.

Mr. Cole nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Emma immediately started fixing me a bowl of soup. "Eat. You need your strength."

I took the bowl with shaking hands, and the first sip of warm broth felt amazing against my raw throat.

For a few minutes, no one spoke. Just the sounds of eating, of normalcy, of safety.

Then Emma set down her spoon and looked at me. "Vivi, I know you have questions. Like, a lot of questions. About tonight. About... everything."

My eyes darted to Rafael, then to Mathias, then back to Emma.

"Yeah," I whispered. "I do."

"We'll answer them," Rafael said quietly. "As best we can. You deserve the truth."

My heart started racing. The truth. About the red eyes. The impossible strength. The way they'd moved.

About what they were.

I set down my soup bowl with trembling hands and looked at all three of them.

"Okay," I said, my voice barely audible. "Then tell me. What are you?”

Rafael took a deep breath. "I'm a werewolf."

The words hung in the air.

I waited for someone to laugh. To say "just kidding." To tell me this was some elaborate prank.

No one did.

"A werewolf," I repeated slowly. "Like... in the books? Like the stories?"

"Yes and no." Rafael leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "The stories get some things right. We can shift between human and wolf form. We're stronger, faster than humans. We have enhanced senses. But we're not monsters. We're not mindless beasts."

"The red eyes," I whispered. "That's... that's real?"

"That's my wolf. When he's close to the surface, when I'm emotional or angry, my eyes change color." He paused. "You saw it tonight. Twice."

My mind was spinning. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be.

But I'd seen it. I'd seen his eyes glow. Seen him move impossibly fast. Seen him throw my uncle across the room like he weighed nothing.

"I'm a werewolf too," Mathias added casually, taking another bite of bread. "In case that wasn't obvious from the whole carrying-a-two-hundred-pound-man thing."

I stared at him. Then at Rafael. Then at Emma.

"Are you—" My voice cracked. "Are you one too?"

"No." Emma shook her head quickly. "I'm completely human. But I know about them. My family knows about them."

"Your family knows about werewolves," I said flatly.

"Yes. We're called Keepers." Emma set down her food and turned to face me fully. "There are certain human bloodlines—special families—who know about the supernatural world. We help werewolves integrate into human society. Provide safe houses, documentation, cover stories. In return, wolf packs protect Keeper families from threats."

"This is insane." I pressed my hands to my face. "This is completely insane."

"I know," Emma said softly. "I know it sounds crazy—"

"It doesn't sound crazy. It is crazy!" My voice rose, though it hurt my throat. "Werewolves aren't real! They're mythology! They're—"

"Right in front of you," Rafael finished quietly. "I know this is a lot. I know you're scared—"

"I need proof." The words burst out. "I need actual proof because right now I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Mathias and Rafael exchanged a look.

"You sure?" Mathias asked me. "Because once you see it, you can't unsee it."

"I need to see it," I insisted, even though my hands were shaking. "I need to know this is real."

Mathias stood up. "Alright. But don't freak out, okay?"

"No promises," I muttered.

He walked to the center of the room and started pulling off his shirt.

"What are you—"

"Can't shift with clothes on," he explained. "They'd just tear."

Emma moved to sit beside me on the bed, taking my hand. "Just breathe, okay? It looks scary at first, but I promise he won't hurt you."

Mathias closed his eyes, and I watched in horror and fascination as his body started to change.

It wasn't like in the movies. It wasn't smooth or magical or quick.

His bones cracked—loud, nauseating sounds that made my stomach turn. His spine arched unnaturally. His face elongated, jaw stretching, teeth sharpening. Fur erupted across his skin in waves of brown and gray.

Within seconds, where Mathias had been standing was a massive wolf.

Not a normal wolf. This thing was huge—easily the size of a small car. Its fur was thick and dark, its eyes a bright amber that held too much intelligence to be a regular animal.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Just stared.

The wolf—Mathias—took a careful step toward me. I flinched back, and Emma squeezed my hand.

"It's still him," she said gently. "He's still Mathias. He won't hurt you."

The wolf sat down, almost like it was trying to make itself look less threatening. Its tail swished once.

"Oh my God," I whispered. "Oh my God, it's real. You're real. This is—"

My vision started to blur. The room tilted.

"Breathe, Vivi," Emma said urgently. "You need to breathe."

I sucked in air, trying not to pass out. "How? How is this possible? Werewolves aren't—they shouldn't—"

"They exist," Rafael said. "We exist. Along with vampires, witches, fae—pretty much every supernatural creature you've read about in stories. We're all real."

"Where?" I managed to gasp out. "Where are you all? Why haven't humans discovered you?"

"Because we have our own realm," Rafael explained. "The supernatural world exists parallel to the human world. Think of it like two layers overlapping. Most of the time, they don't interact. But there are places where the barrier is thin, where creatures can cross over."

"So you're from... another dimension?"

"Kind of. It's complicated." He ran a hand through his hair. "Supernatural beings can cross into the human realm relatively easily. We blend in, hide what we are, live normal lives. But humans can't cross into our realm. Not without help. Not without magic."

"Why not?"

"Because the supernatural realm would kill you." His expression was serious. "The magic there is too concentrated. Too powerful. A human body can't handle it. You'd be dead within hours."

I looked at the massive wolf sitting in the middle of the room. At Rafael, who'd saved my life tonight. At Emma, who'd apparently known about this her entire life.

"This is real," I whispered. "This is actually, really real."

"I'm sorry," Rafael said quietly. "I know this isn't how you wanted to find out."

The wolf—Mathias—started shifting back. The process looked just as painful in reverse. Within less than a  minute, he was human again, pulling his shirt back on.

"So," he said, slightly out of breath. "Still think you're losing your mind?"

I let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "I don't know what I think anymore."

Emma pulled me into a hug. "It's okay to be freaked out. This is a lot to process."

"A lot?" I pulled back to look at her. "Emma, werewolves are real. Werewolves. How are you so calm about this?"

"I've known my whole life," she said with a small smile. "Rafael's been living with us since freshman year. This is normal for me."

"Nothing about this is normal!" 

But even as I said it, pieces were clicking into place. Rafael's strange behavior. The way he'd found me tonight. The impossible strength. The red eyes.

It all made sense now.

Horrible, terrifying, impossible sense.

I looked at Rafael. "Is there anything else I should know? Any other bombshells you want to drop on me tonight?"

He and Emma exchanged another look—quick, meaningful.