Chapter 3: The warning

Selena leaned against the cold metal wall of the subway train, her knees weak and her breaths uneven. The train rumbled beneath her, its fluorescent lights flickering slightly as it sped through the dark tunnels. The mundane noise and bustle of the late-night commute should have been reassuring, but her mind was miles away.

Damian. The red-eyed creature. The fight.

She clutched her bag tightly, her knuckles white. Nothing made sense anymore. The logical part of her brain told her she had to be dreaming, hallucinating even, but the visceral fear coursing through her veins screamed otherwise.

The other passengers barely glanced at her, each lost in their own late-night fatigue or phone screens. Selena envied their ignorance.

When the train slowed and the automated voice announced her stop, she stood on shaky legs, stepping onto the platform. The cold air hit her like a slap, waking her up from her spiraling thoughts. She forced herself to focus on one thing: getting home.

Selena's apartment felt smaller than usual when she finally shut the door behind her. The cozy space that once offered comfort now seemed suffocating, its walls pressing in around her. She dropped her bag and sank onto the worn couch, burying her face in her hands.

The events of the past two nights played over and over in her mind. Who—or what—was Damian? And why did the glowing-eyed creature say her name with such venom?

The knock on her door startled her so badly that she nearly fell off the couch. Her heart raced as she stared at the door, dread pooling in her stomach.

"Selena," a deep voice called from the other side. "It's me."

Her blood ran cold. She recognized that voice. Damian.

How had he found her?

Selena remained frozen, every instinct telling her not to open the door. But the memory of his golden eyes flashed in her mind—intense yet protective—and something in her chest stirred. Against her better judgment, she stood and opened the door just a crack.

Damian stood there, his tall frame filling the doorway. His clothes were slightly torn, and there was a faint scratch across his cheek that hadn't been there earlier.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"To make sure you're safe," he said, his tone calm but firm.

"I don't even know you," she said, tightening her grip on the door. "Why do you care if I'm safe?"

"You're involved now," he said simply. "And whether you believe it or not, your safety is my responsibility."

Selena hesitated. Every rational part of her screamed to slam the door and call the cops, but there was something in Damian's eyes—something raw and honest—that stopped her.

"Five minutes," she said, stepping aside reluctantly.

He entered cautiously, his presence filling the small space. Despite his calm demeanor, there was an edge to him, like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at any moment.

"You've been marked," Damian began without preamble. "The moment you saw what you saw, the rival pack saw you as a threat. And trust me, they don't let threats walk away."

"Rival pack?" she repeated, crossing her arms. "What are you even talking about?"

Damian studied her for a moment, as if deciding how much to reveal. "You've already guessed, haven't you? That what you saw wasn't…human."

Selena's stomach churned. "Are you saying you're—"

"A werewolf," Damian finished, his golden eyes locking onto hers. "Yes."

Her laugh came out bitter and disbelieving. "This is insane. Werewolves don't exist."

"Would you prefer I lie?" he asked, his tone sharp. "Pretend you didn't see me fight off a creature that would've killed you in an instant?"

Selena opened her mouth to argue, but the memory of the red-eyed figure silenced her. She sank onto the couch, her legs too weak to hold her. "This can't be happening," she murmured.

"I know it's a lot," Damian said, his tone softening. "But it's the truth. And now that they've seen you, they'll come after you."

She looked up at him, fear flashing in her eyes. "Why? I don't even know anything!"

"They don't care," Damian said grimly. "To them, you're a liability. You're connected to me now, whether you want to be or not."

Selena shook her head, her mind spinning. "This doesn't make sense. Why me? I didn't do anything!"

Damian hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Sometimes it's not about what you've done. It's about what you might do."

She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward the window, his jaw tight. "I've already put measures in place to keep you safe. My pack is watching the area. If anyone comes near, they'll let me know."

"Your pack?" Selena asked, her voice skeptical.

Damian nodded, his expression serious. "I'm their Alpha. It's my job to protect them—and now, you."

She scoffed, the absurdity of the situation finally breaking through her fear. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"No," Damian agreed, his gaze steady. "But it's your reality now. The sooner you accept that, the better."

Selena stood abruptly, her anger rising. "You can't just show up and tell me my life is in danger like it's no big deal! I had a normal life, Damian. A normal life!"

"And it's my job to make sure you keep it," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But I can't do that if you don't trust me."

Her laugh was bitter. "Trust you? I don't even know you!"

"Then get to know me," he said, his golden eyes meeting hers. "Because whether you like it or not, we're in this together now."

Selena stared at him, her emotions a storm of fear, anger, and confusion. Finally, she looked away. "I don't know how to do this," she admitted quietly.

"You don't have to," Damian said. "That's my job. All I need from you is to stay alert and trust me when I tell you to run."

The weight of his words settled over her like a heavy blanket. She didn't trust him—not yet. But deep down, she knew he was right. Whatever was happening, it was bigger than her, and she couldn't face it alone.

"Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But if you're lying to me—"

"I'm not," he interrupted, his tone firm.

Selena nodded, though doubt still lingered in her chest. "What happens now?"

"Now," Damian said, "you try to live your life. Act normal. But be prepared, Selena. This is far from over."

With that, he turned and walked to the door. He paused before leaving, his golden eyes meeting hers one last time. "Lock your doors. And if anything feels off, call me."

"How?" she asked, frowning.

He pulled a small, sleek phone from his pocket and handed it to her. "It's preprogrammed. Use it if you need me."

Then he was gone, leaving Selena standing in the silence of her apartment. She stared at the phone in her hand, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

She wasn't sure if Damian was her protector or if he was dragging her into something she'd never escape. But one thing was certain: her life would never be the same.