Empowerment

Their voices flickered like the dim light of a fire in the distance, cracking through the suffocating haze of fear still wrapped around me. I lay there, numb, trying to focus on their words, trying to pull myself out of the dark.

"You didn't check on him?" William's voice was sharp, cutting through the air with an edge that made me flinch. I hadn't heard him like this before—so raw, so biting.

"I did, and nothing unusual came up," Zeff snapped back, defensive but strained. I could hear the frustration in his tone, the weariness that came from being caught off guard. His voice wavered with something else, something that sounded like guilt.

William's voice lowered, dangerously calm, each word carrying a weight that sent shivers down my spine, even through the fog clouding my mind. "Can you imagine the things he must have done to her without her even knowing?"

A chill ran down my spine, a cold wave of nausea twisting in my stomach. The reality of their conversation hit me like a blow, their words piecing together the terrifying truth I was struggling to comprehend.

"She would have told me!" Zeff's voice was louder now, filled with frustration and hurt, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as William.

"Has she?" William's retort was swift, sharp, like a blade cutting through the tension. Silence fell between them for a moment, the weight of the question pressing down hard. I felt the sting of that question, the doubt it carried.

"She had Shadow with her! He would have told me something!" Zeff's voice cracked, desperate now, grasping for anything to hold on to. I could hear the anguish in his words, the way his belief in his bond with Shadow was crumbling in front of him.

"You think a child has the skills to know if something happened?" William's words were ice cold, cutting through the defenses Zeff had built up. "You really think a pup could have sensed something this dark?"

"Stop putting the blame on me, William," Zeff growled, his voice filled with a raw edge of anger and guilt. "He got us both fooled."

"Can you both shut up?" I thought, or at least I tried to say it, but the pounding in my head made it impossible to muster more than a faint groan. The silence that followed was deafening, a sudden, uneasy stillness that made my skin prickle. I opened my eyes, blinking against the harsh, sterile light above me. Everything felt off—too bright, too cold.

I could feel the stiffness of the sheets against my skin, the uncomfortable mattress beneath me. A hospital? No, it didn't smell like one. It was more earthy, almost familiar in a strange way.

Both Zeff and William leaned over me, their faces hovering, expressions a confusing mix of relief and worry. They looked like they had been through hell.

"Where are we?" I asked, my voice barely more than a rasp. My throat felt like it had been sandpapered.

"The reservoir's infirmary," Zeff answered softly, his eyes never leaving mine as if he was afraid I might slip away if he looked anywhere else.

The memories hit me like a freight train—Owen, the fight, the terrifying force of what had surged from inside me. My heart stuttered, and I jolted upright in bed, my mind racing. Before I could do anything, Zeff's hand was firm on my shoulder, guiding me back down with a gentle but unyielding pressure.

"Relax," he said, his voice steady but laced with concern. "He's taken care of."

I let out a shaky breath and glanced toward William. I hadn't realized it at first, but his face was marred with cuts and bruises, remnants of the battle with Owen. His usual confidence seemed dulled by the damage, though his eyes still gleamed with that familiar fire. Without thinking, I reached out, my hand brushing against his cheek, my fingers tracing one of the cuts.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice soft, my concern genuine.

Through the bond with Zeff, I felt a surge of something—jealousy, annoyance, frustration, I couldn't quite pin it down. But the feeling was sharp and unmistakable, a reminder that I was caught between two powerful forces, neither willing to back down.

William, of course, smirked despite the pain. He winced theatrically, grabbing my hand as if he were on the verge of death. "My ribs still hurt," he murmured, his voice playful but tender, clearly enjoying the attention.

I gasped, my concern deepening as I started to pull back, but Zeff's growl stopped me cold. "Liar," Zeff muttered, his eyes narrowing at William. "He's a werewolf, Liliam. We heal faster than humans."

William's smirk widened as he shrugged, completely unfazed by Zeff's irritation. "You were late," he said to Zeff, his voice casual but laced with accusation. "Lucky I was there."

Zeff bristled, his eyes darkening with frustration. "And why were you there, William?" he snapped, irritation coloring every word.

William's gaze flicked to me, and then back to Zeff. His smirk turned into something more dangerous. "I felt it," he replied, the meaning clear, his tone mocking.

The room felt like it was holding its breath, and Zeff's expression shifted, realization dawning on his face. He looked between William and me, his voice thick with shock when he finally spoke. "You let him mark you in the dreams?" His eyes were wide with disbelief.

My cheeks burned, a deep blush rising as I looked down at my hands. I hadn't wanted this to come out like this, not now. But there was no hiding it anymore. "He... He was the reason Owen didn't touch me at night," I whispered, ashamed but needing to explain.

Both Zeff and William froze, their faces hardening as anger flared in their eyes. "He touched you?" they said in unison, their voices sharp, barely restrained fury simmering beneath the surface.

I swallowed hard, my hands twisting in the sheets as I tried to explain, "Every time William came in my dreams, Owen… he didn't… he didn't touch me."

Zeff's face was a mixture of hurt, disbelief, and something else—betrayal, maybe? His voice softened, but the pain in his eyes was impossible to miss. "Why didn't you say anything?" His words cut deeper than he probably intended, making me feel small, guilty.

Before I could respond, William leaned closer, his fingers still holding onto mine. "See? I'm even more useful than you," he taunted, clearly enjoying how the situation was unfolding.

"Shut up, William," Zeff snapped, his anger flaring again, eyes narrowing with barely restrained rage. The tension between them was electric, crackling in the air like a storm ready to break.

I felt like I was in the middle of an invisible tug of war, pulled between the two of them, both of them protective, possessive, but in different ways. The unspoken rivalry between them was suffocating, and I didn't know how to handle it. My heart ached with the weight of everything that had happened. The confusion, the fear, the guilt of keeping so many things hidden—things I should have told Zeff but hadn't.

Zeff glared at William, his jaw clenched tight, fists at his side. "You think this is a joke?" he spat, stepping closer. "She's been through hell, and you're using it to feed your ego?"

William's playful expression faltered, his eyes darkening as his grip on my hand tightened just slightly. "This isn't about ego," he said quietly, his voice cold. "This is about keeping her safe. Something you failed to do."

I heard hushed voices drifting through the room, drawing my attention. I turned my head and spotted a small group of children near the entrance, their wide eyes filled with curiosity and awe.

"Who is she?" one of them whispered, barely audible but laced with wonder.

"Is she really the Luna?" another asked, reverence and disbelief mingling in their tone, like they were seeing something out of a legend.

Before I could fully process their words, an older woman appeared, her presence commanding yet kind. She waved the children away with a firm but gentle hand. "Leave the Luna alone," she said softly, though her tone left no room for argument. "She needs her rest."

The children scattered, their excited whispers fading as they obeyed, casting lingering glances in my direction. A low growl rumbled from William's throat, his annoyance evident.

"They called me Luna," I whispered, turning my gaze toward Zeff, searching for an explanation. "Just like Shadow did."

"You are—" Zeff began, his voice steady but holding a weight that I couldn't quite grasp.

"She's not your Luna," William cut in sharply, his possessive grip tightening around my hand. His jealousy was palpable, the tension between him and Zeff thickening like a rising storm. Zeff's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with irritation.

"I'm not looking for a fight, William," Zeff said in a low, measured tone, though I could feel the restraint behind his words, like he was holding back a flood of emotions.

"Oh, but I am," William countered with a dark smile, stepping closer to me. "After all, she's only marked magically, not physically." His hand moved toward my neck, brushing my hair aside as his lips hovered dangerously close to my skin. "It's as easy as—"

Before he could finish, Zeff moved like lightning, shoving William away from me with such force that the bed shook. William snarled, his wolf instincts flaring up, his eyes blazing with fury as he squared off against Zeff. The air felt charged, the room shrinking under the weight of their combined intensity.

"Enough!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the escalating tension like a blade. I couldn't handle another fight, not after everything that had just happened. "Both of you, just stop."

Zeff's eyes softened slightly, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in his emotions. William, however, didn't back down as easily, his gaze still locked on Zeff, a silent challenge burning in his eyes.

"William, stand down," I commanded, my voice steady but firm as I met his gaze. My heart pounded in my chest, but I refused to let them drag me into their rivalry.

William clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tensing as he took a slow, measured breath. I could see the conflict in his eyes—his wolf was still on edge, his possessiveness barely held in check—but the intensity of my gaze seemed to give him pause. Zeff, visibly surprised, hadn't expected me to take charge, but he stayed quiet, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"We're not doing this here," I continued, my tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not some prize to be fought over. I'm right here, and I need both of you to understand that. This isn't about territory, or dominance."

The room felt heavier, the weight of my words settling in. William's posture shifted slightly, his shoulders relaxing though his eyes still burned with unresolved tension. Zeff, for his part, nodded, his expression unreadable but his body loosening as if he was trying to respect my wishes.

"I need time," I added, my voice softening but still firm. "Alone," I emphasized, cutting off Zeff before he could speak. Both of them looked taken aback, the surprise clear in their eyes. I held up a hand to stop any protests before they could start.

"Please," I said more gently, looking between them. "Just give me space. I need to think."

William's eyes flickered, his gaze softening for the first time since he'd entered the room. He looked like he wanted to argue, to stay, but something in my voice must've reached him. With a grumble, he reluctantly took a step back.

Zeff nodded again, his gaze searching mine, a silent question lingering there, but he didn't push. "Alright," he said quietly, his voice filled with a tenderness I hadn't expected. "We'll give you time."

William shot Zeff a final glare before turning and heading toward the door, his frustration evident in the way his hands clenched at his sides. He paused briefly at the door, casting one last look at me—something unreadable in his eyes—before stepping out. Zeff followed, his movements hesitant, as if he didn't want to leave but knew he had to respect my request.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The silence that followed was both a relief and a weight. I let out a shaky breath, my heart still pounding from the heated exchange. Exhaustion pressed down on me, yet my thoughts refused to quiet, spinning like a whirlwind in my head.

I sank back into the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around myself as if it could shield me from the overwhelming reality closing in. Zeff and William. Their intensity, their protectiveness, their possessiveness—it was suffocating, yet undeniably stirring. I couldn't ignore the way their presence affected me, the way their energy seemed to draw me in even as it overwhelmed me.

But amidst all the chaos, one thought pressed harder than the rest: What do I want?

I pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to push away the incessant pounding of emotions and unanswered questions. Werewolves and demons. It sounded like a plotline ripped straight from one of the fantasy books I used to lose myself in. Only now, it wasn't fiction. It was my reality. My terrifying, exhilarating, impossible reality.

And then there was Owen.

My stomach twisted at the thought of him. The memory of his face contorted with malice, the cruel gleam in his eyes as he pinned me down. That wasn't the Owen I thought I knew. That wasn't the Owen I had loved—or maybe I had convinced myself to love. It wasn't just him, though. There had been something else in control, something dark and evil. That realization was almost worse than the betrayal itself.

My mind played back every moment I'd spent with him, scrutinizing every glance, every word, every touch. The truth hit me like a brick wall: that darkness had always been there. Subtle, lurking beneath the surface. I had felt it before. The anger. The possessiveness. I had ignored the warning signs, choosing to believe in a version of him that didn't exist. Maybe I had been too naive. Too desperate for normalcy.

I shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Maybe that was part of the reason I had distanced myself from Owen. Had I been afraid of him? Afraid of what he could become? And now, with everything that had happened—Zeff and William, the supernatural world crashing into mine—I couldn't untangle my feelings. I didn't even know where to start.

I felt trapped between worlds. One part of me longed for the normal life I had before, the simplicity of it all, where Owen was just Owen and I was just… me. But that life was gone. Burned away in the fire of this new reality. And in its place were Zeff and William. Two forces pulling me in opposite directions, both of them dangerous in their own way. Both of them unraveling pieces of me I wasn't ready to face.

And who was I in all of this? A woman caught between three men who each represented something different—Owen, a painful connection to the life I'd lost; Zeff, a steady protector who carried his own secrets; and William, a relentless force of nature who saw me as his equal and his mate.

Not to mention whatever the hell was happening to me. That surge of power back at the house—it wasn't normal. It wasn't human. Was it tied to the bond? To the connection I shared with Zeff and William? Or was it something else entirely? Something buried deep inside me that I didn't understand yet?

I let out a frustrated sigh, leaning my head back against the pillows. I needed answers. I needed clarity.

I wasn't ready to make a choice between them—or between this world and the one I left behind—because I didn't know enough about myself to make any decisions at all. The truth was, I wasn't just overwhelmed by the world of werewolves and demons or the intensity of the bonds pulling at me.

I was terrified of what I was becoming.