Chapter 6: Gains and Losses (First Half)

Flashback – The Night Jane 'Died'

Beacon Hills, years ago…

The air in Jane's bedroom was thick with the scent of medicine and lavender, mixing with the unspoken grief that hung in the space. The bedside lamp barely illuminated the room, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly across the walls.

Jane lay still, her body weak and frail. Each breath felt like a battle, her exhaustion pulling her deeper, like a tide she couldn't escape.

Her mother sat by her side, holding Jane's cold hand, gripping it as if sheer will could keep her alive. Silent tears streaked down her face, her expression a mix of pain and helplessness. Her father stood at the foot of the bed, stiff and motionless, jaw clenched tightly as he fought to remain composed. But Jane could see it—the raw torment in his eyes.

And then there was Javi.

Her little brother sat huddled on the floor beside her bed, his wide eyes filled with fear. He wasn't crying, but his lip trembled, fists clenched tightly against his knees. He couldn't bring himself to believe this was happening.

"Mija, you're going to be okay," her mother whispered, the words thick with a hope she knew was fading.

Jane managed a faint smile, though it drained the last of her strength. "Mom... it's okay," she rasped, her voice barely a whisper.

"No, it's not," her father grunted, shaking his head. "You're too young for this. You should be out there, living your life. Not… not lying here."

Javi inched closer, gripping the edge of the bed, his voice trembling. "You can't go, Jane," he whispered. It was so fragile, so broken, it felt like a knife to her chest.

Jane longed to reach for him, to ruffle his hair and tease him like she always had. She wanted to promise she'd be there tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. But she couldn't. Not now. Not anymore.

Her mother let out a shuddering breath, squeezing her hand one last time. "You need rest," she murmured.

Her father hesitated, then leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to Jane's forehead. "We love you," he whispered softly, as if it were the last thing he could say.

One by one, they left, until only Javi remained. He looked back at her, hope shining in his eyes, but Jane couldn't move. She couldn't say anything. The door clicked shut, leaving only the silence in its wake.

Then—

A deep voice sliced through the stillness.

"Do you want to live?"

Jane's eyes flickered open, her body too weak to react. Her heart thundered in her chest, though every part of her felt heavy, like it was made of lead.

From the shadows stepped a man she had only heard of in whispered rumors.

Deucalion.

"You're dying, Jane," he said, his voice smooth, with an unnatural calm. His red eyes gleamed in the dim light, glowing like embers in the dark. "Your body is failing. But it doesn't have to."

Jane's breath came in short, shallow bursts. "Who are you? How did you—how did you get in here?"

Deucalion took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, as if the room itself bent toward him. "Does it matter? I came when you least expected, didn't I? Now I'm here to give you a choice."

Her mind swam in a whirlwind of fear and desperation. The room blurred at the edges. Her limbs felt heavier by the second.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was barely a rasp. "A chance at what?"

Deucalion's lips curled into a knowing smile. "A chance to survive. To be stronger than you ever imagined."

Jane swallowed, struggling to focus. "Why would you do that for me?"

He chuckled, the sound like silk sliding over steel. "Because I see something in you, Jane. A potential worth saving. A fire waiting to burn."

A slow dread coiled in her stomach. "And if I say no?"

Deucalion shrugged, unbothered. "Then you die."

The room felt smaller. The walls closed in. The weight of his words pressed down on her chest.

Jane's vision blurred. She knew he was right. She was slipping.

Whether she liked it or not, she had no choice.

She lifted her gaze, resolve burning behind the weakness in her body.

"I accept."

Deucalion's smile turned sharper, more sinister.

"Good. I knew you were smart."

Jane's throat felt dry. "But… what do I have to do?"

Deucalion tilted his head, amused. "Work for me."

A chill ran down Jane's spine. Work? What kind of work? She didn't dare ask.

Her body was failing. Her vision blurred at the edges. She didn't want to die—not like this. Not when Javi still needed her. Not when her family would be left with nothing but grief.

She swallowed hard, hands trembling as she forced herself to nod.

Whatever the price was… she would pay it.

Then came the bite.

The moment Deucalion's teeth sank into her skin, a searing pain tore through Jane's body. It was unlike anything she had ever felt—fire igniting in her veins, scorching every nerve, every cell. She arched off the bed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the burning spread, consuming her from the inside out.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a wild, erratic rhythm. Her vision flickered between darkness and blinding light. Every muscle in her body tensed, locking her in place as the transformation took hold.

She thought she was dying.

Maybe she was.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped.

Jane collapsed onto the bed, gasping, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. The weakness that had clung to her for weeks was… gone. The heaviness in her limbs had vanished. Instead, she felt—

Stronger.

Her fingers clenched the bedsheet, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was power behind the movement. The world around her sharpened—every sound, every scent, every flicker of light more vivid than before.

She inhaled sharply. The sterile scent of medicine, the fading perfume of her mother, the faint traces of her father's cologne… and beneath it all, something new. Something wild.

Jane's eyes snapped open.

Deucalion stood over her, watching. His crimson gaze gleamed with satisfaction.

"Welcome back, Jane." His voice was smooth, triumphant. "How does it feel?"

Jane sat up slowly, her movements fluid, effortless. Strange. Overwhelming. Alive.

She flexed her fingers, staring at them as if they belonged to someone else.

"What… what did you do to me?"

Deucalion smirked. "I gave you what you wanted. A second chance."

Jane's breath hitched. She was alive.

But at what cost?

She glanced at the door—the one her family had walked out of moments ago, believing she wouldn't make it through the night. They thought she was dying.

No.

They thought she was dead.

Jane turned back to Deucalion, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach.

"What now?"

His smirk widened. "Now? Now you begin your real purpose."

Jane exhaled shakily, then simply nodded. "Who… who are you?"

Deucalion smirked. "I am Deucalion. Your Alpha."

The weight of those words settled over Jane like a chain locking into place.

She swallowed hard, her voice unsteady. "I—"

Deucalion cut her off smoothly. "You don't need to say anything." He took a slow step closer. "You made your choice. You accepted the bite." His red eyes gleamed. "You belong to me now."

Jane sat up properly in bed, confusion clouding her expression. "But… what about my family?"

Deucalion leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. "That's your choice." His voice was calm, measured. "Do you let them see what you've become? Or let them believe you died?"

Jane's breath caught. His words hit harder than she expected.

She glanced toward the door—the last place she had seen her family. Her mother's tear-streaked face. Her father's clenched jaw. Javi, curled up by her bedside, refusing to say goodbye.

What would they do if they saw her now? Strong. Different. Not human.

They'd be terrified.

Jane inhaled sharply, forcing down the lump in her throat. She had to let them believe she was gone.

She turned back to Deucalion, her voice quiet but resolute. "Okay. I'll take your advice."

Deucalion smirked. Without hesitation, he reached out—

And stopped her heartbeat.

Jane gasped, her body seizing up for a moment before a strange stillness settled over her.

"Don't worry," Deucalion murmured. "You're not actually dying."

But to the world, she already had.

Her family returned, their footsteps hurried, their hearts clinging to hope.

But the moment they stepped inside, the world stopped.

Jane lay motionless on the bed, her chest still, her lips slightly parted—breathless.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing.

Then—chaos.

"No—Jane!" Her mother's voice broke as she lunged forward, collapsing at her daughter's side. Her hands trembled as she touched Jane's face, her fingers brushing against cold skin. "Mija, wake up! Please—wake up!"

Her father followed, slower, his body rigid, his breaths shallow. He stared down at Jane, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something—but no words came. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to contain the storm raging inside him.

But Javi—

Javi stood frozen at the doorway, his small hands gripping the frame so tightly his knuckles turned white. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his vision blurring as he stared at the unmoving figure on the bed.

This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

Then his mother's sob cut through the air, a sound so raw it sent a tremor through his spine.

And it hit him.

Jane was gone.

A strangled cry tore from his throat as he ran forward, throwing himself onto the bed. "No! Jane, no! Wake up!" His hands shook as he grabbed her arm, his small fingers curling around her wrist, searching for warmth. "You said you'd be okay! You said—" His voice cracked, breaking apart into choked sobs.

His head fell against her arm, his body trembling as his tears soaked into the fabric of her sleeve. "Please don't go," he whispered. "Please…"

His father finally moved, stepping forward with stiff, mechanical steps. His hands hovered over Jane's still form, his breathing ragged. Then, slowly, his fingers curled into a fist, and his shoulders shook as he turned away.

His mother clung to Jane, rocking back and forth, whispering prayers through her tears, her body wracked with silent devastation.

In the shadows, Deucalion watched.

Unmoved. Unseen.

He leaned against the darkened wall, arms crossed over his chest, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light. He listened to the cries, the heartbreak, the agony. He had seen it before. He would see it again.

But tonight, this grief belonged to them.

Because to the world—Jane Garcia died that night.

And Javi, sobbing beside his sister's lifeless body, would never be the same.

A Week Later – The Burial of Jane Garcia

The sky was overcast, the air heavy with sorrow. A cold wind rustled through the cemetery, whispering between the rows of tombstones like a ghost mourning alongside them.

Jane Garcia's casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Her mother clutched her husband's arm, sobbing uncontrollably, while her father stood eerily still, his face void of emotion. But his eyes—his eyes were empty.

Javi stood off to the side, silent.

His face was pale, his small hands clenched at his sides. He had stopped crying days ago, but the pain had settled deep, hollowing him out. He hadn't slept. He barely ate. He hadn't spoken a single word since the night she died.

Now, as the finality of it all settled in—the sound of dirt being tossed over the coffin, the murmured prayers of the mourners—he felt his lips tremble.

She's really gone.

He lowered his head, his fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeves. How was he supposed to live in a world without her?

---

From a distance, hidden in the shadows, Jane watched.

Her breath caught as she took in the scene—her mother's cries, her father's haunted stare, the way Javi stood there, so small, so lost.

Her little brother.

Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to run to them, to tell them she was right there, that she wasn't gone. That she would never leave them.

But she couldn't. Not yet.

Beside her, Deucalion stood, unmoving. His expression unreadable, his glowing red eyes dimmed in the daylight, but his presence was unshaken.

"They think you're dead," he murmured. "You can't go back to them now."

Jane's jaw clenched. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she shut her eyes, forcing herself to breathe through the ache.

"I know."

She hated it. But she knew.

A heavy hand rested on her shoulder. Deucalion's.

"Let's go, Jane Garcia."

She stiffened. Then, after a long beat, she shook her head.

"That's not who I am anymore." Her voice was steady, but inside, she was breaking. "That part of me had died." She inhaled deeply before exhaling the name like a silent rebirth. "Call me Jane Anuevo."

Deucalion's lips curled slightly. "Interesting." He studied her for a moment before turning. "Come. We have work to do."

Jane cast one last, longing glance at her family.

Javi still hadn't moved. His shoulders shook slightly, but he made no sound.

Her heart shattered all over again.

As she turned and walked away, she made a silent promise:

From this day on, I will watch over them.

Even if they never knew she was there.

__________________________________________________

Weeks Later – Training with Deucalion

The afternoon sun hung high, its light filtering through the broken windows of the abandoned warehouse. Dust particles floated in the air, disturbed by the rapid movements of the two figures sparring in the center of the space.

Jane ducked as Deucalion swung at her.

Too slow.

Deucalion chuckled. "Faster."

Jane gritted her teeth, moving quickly to dodge the next strike, but her footwork was sloppy, her reactions just a fraction too late.

Deucalion sighed, easily anticipating her attacks. "How many times do I have to tell you?" His voice was calm but firm. "Never hesitate."

Jane exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. "Easier said than done, you know!"

Deucalion smirked and raised his hand. "Again."

Jane growled softly but dropped back into position, shaking out her arms.

Deucalion began circling her like a predator, his red eyes gleaming. "Stop reacting," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Start attacking."

Jane lunged at him, throwing a quick succession of strikes. But he blocked them all. Effortlessly.

"Is that all you've got?" Deucalion taunted, deflecting her latest attack with ease. "Come on, Jane. Don't hesitate!"

Frustration flared inside her. "I'm trying—!"

She went for a punch, aiming for his jaw, but before she could land it—

Deucalion caught her wrist.

Effortless. Controlled.

And then he smirked. Darkly.

"Do you really think you can protect your family with power like this?"

Jane's breath hitched. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

Something inside her snapped.

Her expression changed in an instant—from frustration to pure aggression. She ripped her arm free, her movements sharper, stronger, fueled by something raw and unchecked.

She attacked.

This time, Deucalion didn't just block. He felt the difference. Jane's strikes were faster, more ruthless. She wasn't thinking anymore. She was feeling.

Hurting.

Deucalion smirked through the onslaught, knowing he had hit a nerve.

"Now," he mused, dodging a fierce strike before taking one to the ribs with a grunt. His smirk widened. "That's what I'm talking about."

Jane's breaths came in short, sharp bursts as she launched another attack—faster, stronger, more ruthless. Her fists struck with purpose now, her hesitation replaced by raw, simmering rage.

Deucalion let her come at him, blocking her punches with just enough resistance to keep her engaged, to keep her believing she had the upper hand. But he could see it—she was losing control.

Good.

"This is what power feels like, Jane." His voice was smooth, coaxing. "Do you feel it?"

Jane gritted her teeth, swinging at him again. "Shut up."

Deucalion dodged. Effortless.

"You're still holding back."

Jane growled, lunging. She threw a punch, but he sidestepped. She went for a kick—he caught her leg midair.

And then, with one sharp movement, he flipped her.

Jane hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from her lungs. She gasped, coughing, but before she could recover—

Deucalion was on her, pressing his foot lightly against her chest. A silent message.

She had lost. Again.

Jane lay there, staring up at him, her heart hammering. The frustration boiled over, mixing with something deeper—anger, helplessness, grief.

Deucalion tilted his head, studying her. "You think rage is enough?" He pressed his foot just a little harder, enough to make her feel it. "You're still afraid. And fear makes you weak."

Jane's hands curled into fists. "I am not afraid."

Deucalion smiled knowingly. "No?" He crouched down, lowering himself to her level. "Then why do you still flinch when I mention your family?"

Jane stiffened.

There it was. The wound he kept pressing.

She turned her head away, jaw tight.

Deucalion chuckled. "Your emotions make you predictable. Vulnerable." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And weaknesses get people killed."

Jane snapped.

With a sharp snarl, she twisted, using her whole body to throw him off. Deucalion stumbled back a step—just a step, but enough.

Jane was on her feet in an instant, her eyes flashing gold, her fangs bared. "I am not weak."

Deucalion smirked, brushing imaginary dust from his jacket. "Then prove it."

Jane clenched her fists, her body shaking—not from exhaustion, but from fire.

And for the first time since her transformation, she stopped thinking. She let go.

She lunged.

And this time, Deucalion actually had to fight back.

Jane lunged with a snarl, moving faster than before—no hesitation, no restraint.

She struck first, her fist colliding with Deucalion's ribs with a force that sent a sharp crack through the warehouse. Deucalion barely had time to adjust before Jane followed up, twisting her body and landing a vicious kick to his side.

He actually staggered.

A flicker of something—satisfaction?—crossed his face before he steadied himself. "That's more like it."

But Jane wasn't listening anymore.

The world blurred around her. All she could see was him. All she could hear was his voice, needling at her insecurities, his taunts echoing in her mind.

"Do you really think you can protect your family with power like this?"

Her vision burned gold. Her claws extended, her breathing deep and ragged.

Deucalion barely dodged her next strike. She was faster now. Stronger.

And reckless.

He let her come at him, let her attacks push him back—but only for a moment. Then, in a single smooth motion, he countered.

His fist slammed into her gut.

Jane gasped, her body jerking from the impact, but she barely had time to recover before—

CRACK.

His elbow met her jaw, snapping her head to the side.

She stumbled, knees buckling.

Deucalion didn't let up. He grabbed her by the collar, lifting her slightly before slamming her back down.

Pain exploded through her body.

Jane groaned, coughing as she tried to push herself up. No. No, not again.

Deucalion crouched over her, eyes glowing red, his voice calm. "Rage is a tool, Jane. But if you let it control you, you'll lose. Every time."

Jane squeezed her eyes shut, frustration and fury warring inside her. She had been so close.

Why wasn't it enough?

Why wasn't she enough?

She clenched her jaw. No. She wasn't done.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, her entire body aching. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, but she didn't care.

Deucalion watched her, waiting. Testing her.

Jane wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, her golden eyes locking onto him.

"Again."

Deucalion smirked. "Good."

He raised his hands, getting back into position. "Then let's begin."

Jane steadied her stance, rolling her shoulders as she locked eyes with Deucalion. Her body screamed at her to stop, to rest. She ignored it.

Pain was temporary. Weakness was unacceptable.

She exhaled slowly, her heartbeat steadying as she studied him. No more reckless attacks. No more blind rage.

She would fight smarter.

Deucalion smirked, pleased by the shift in her demeanor. "Now you're learning."

He moved first this time. A blur of motion. Fast. Precise. Deadly.

Jane saw it—anticipated it.

Instead of reacting blindly, she dodged just in time, twisting her body to avoid his strike. Then she countered.

A sharp jab to his ribs. A calculated kick to his knee.

Deucalion grunted, briefly losing his balance. But Jane didn't stop. She pressed the attack.

She moved with control now, not just fury—every strike deliberate, every step purposeful.

Deucalion finally had to fight back.

Their movements became a blur, a deadly dance of attacks and counters. The sound of fists colliding echoed through the warehouse, the tension between them razor-sharp.

Then, in one precise moment, Jane saw an opening.

Deucalion lifted his arm to block a punch, leaving his ribs exposed for half a second—long enough.

Jane twisted her hips and drove her elbow into his side with everything she had.

CRACK.

Deucalion stumbled.

For the first time, she had truly hurt him.

Jane didn't hesitate. She lunged again, prepared to finish it—

But in an instant, Deucalion shifted.

Too fast.

Before she could react, he caught her wrist and twisted it behind her back, forcing her into a chokehold.

Her body tensed. Trapped.

"You're strong now, Jane." His breath was calm against her ear, even as she struggled in his grip. "But you're still missing something."

Jane grit her teeth, chest heaving. "Let me go and I'll show you."

Deucalion chuckled. "Not yet."

With one sharp movement, he swept her legs out from under her and slammed her to the ground—hard.

Jane gasped, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Damn it!

She tried to get up, but Deucalion was already standing over her, pressing a foot lightly against her shoulder.

A silent message.

She had lost. Again.

Jane growled, fangs bared.

Deucalion smirked. "Better. Much better. But still not enough."

Jane slammed a fist against the ground, fury and frustration coiling in her chest. "What do you want from me?!"

Deucalion crouched down, his glowing red eyes staring directly into hers.

"I want you to stop fighting like a girl who lost everything."

Jane's breath hitched.

"I want you to fight like someone who's going to take it all back."

The words struck deep. Too deep.

Jane swallowed, her golden eyes still burning, but now… there was something else in them.

A purpose.

Deucalion smirked, standing. "Again."

Jane exhaled, rolling her shoulders as she got to her feet.

"Again."

And she lunged.

[Time skip}

The Final Test

Months passed.

Day after day, fight after fight, Jane honed her skills. Her hesitation was gone. Her fear was buried. Her control was absolute.

Deucalion pushed her to the edge—and she survived. Every strike, every lesson, every bruise had led to this moment.

And now, it was time for her final test.

---

Somewhere in a dark forest…

The moon hung high, casting silver light through the thick canopy. The air was cold, sharp with the scent of pine and damp earth.

Jane stood in the clearing, her muscles coiled, her heartbeat steady. Across from her, Deucalion watched with his usual smirk.

But this time, he wasn't alone.

Three wolves circled the clearing, their eyes glowing with challenge.

Jane didn't flinch.

Deucalion tilted his head. "You've trained well, Jane. But words mean nothing." He gestured toward the wolves. "Show me."

The moment the words left his mouth, the first wolf lunged.

Jane moved.

She sidestepped the attack effortlessly, her claws flashing as she raked across the wolf's side. A yelp, a stumble—but no hesitation.

The second wolf came next. Jane ducked low, sweeping its legs out from under it. It barely hit the ground before she struck again, her fist slamming into its ribs.

The third one was faster. It got behind her.

Jane spun, catching its wrist mid-swing. With a snarl, she twisted—a sickening pop echoed in the night.

The wolf howled, collapsing to the ground.

Silence.

Jane stood in the center of the clearing, her breath slow, controlled. All three wolves were on the ground, groaning in pain but still alive.

Deucalion smirked. "Impressive."

Jane wiped the blood from her lip. "Was that enough for you?"

Deucalion stepped forward, his red eyes gleaming. "Almost."

He attacked.

No warning. No hesitation. Just pure, deadly force.

Jane barely managed to block his first strike—a punch that could've shattered her ribs.

Then it became a blur.

Every move she made, he countered. Every strike she threw, he deflected. Faster. Sharper. More ruthless than ever.

But Jane wasn't the same girl she was before.

She didn't panic. She didn't hesitate. She fought.

Claws met claws, fists met bone. Every impact sent shockwaves through the clearing.

Then—an opening.

Jane saw it.

She twisted, using her full momentum to land a devastating kick to Deucalion's ribs. CRACK.

For the first time—he staggered.

Jane didn't stop. She followed up, aiming for his throat—

But Deucalion caught her wrist.

Their eyes locked. Both were breathing hard, both bleeding.

Silence stretched between them.

Then—a slow smirk spread across Deucalion's face.

"You're ready."

Jane let out a slow exhale, rolling her shoulders. Finally.

Deucalion released her wrist, nodding approvingly. "You're not just a beta anymore."

He stepped back, his voice calm, final. "From this moment on, Jane Anuevo is reborn."

Jane stood tall, golden eyes blazing. She had survived. She had won.

And now, it was time to begin her real mission.

Watching over her family.

__________________________________________________

"Ever since the day she completed Deucalion's grueling training, Jane had taken on a dual burden—one as a guardian and another as a beta. The weight of her new responsibilities pressed heavily on her, but she didn't falter. She stayed hidden in the shadows, always watching over her family from a distance. Javi, her parents—everyone she loved—were in constant danger, and Jane couldn't afford to let her guard down. Day after day, she observed them, making sure no harm came their way, even if it meant sacrificing her own peace of mind. She had chosen this life, a life that kept her at the edge of the world she once knew, always just out of reach from the people who meant the most to her. She would protect them at all costs, even if they never knew she was there."

_________________________________________________

A year had passed. Deucalion had changed. He had become ruthless, his vision darker, his methods crueler. His pack had grown—new faces, new followers, all molded in his image.

And now, Jane stood before him, defiant.

"Deucalion, this isn't the way!" Jane's voice was sharp, unwavering. "You think you can turn anyone you want into an alpha? Isn't that twisted?"

Deucalion raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his expression.

"And why not?" His tone was calm, almost indulgent. "Why should a select few be born with such power while others remain weak? I'm merely offering them a chance."

Jane shook her head, fists clenched. "It's not a chance—it's a curse. A curse they didn't ask for. You're not giving them power, you're taking away their choice."

For the first time, Deucalion's smirk faltered.

"Have you forgotten who saved you that night?" His voice dropped, quieter but laced with warning. "You took the bite, Jane. You chose this."

Jane's jaw tightened, her heart pounding. "That was different. I was dying. I had no other choice."

Deucalion's smirk returned, colder this time. "And yet here you are, standing against me, denying others their evolution?"

Jane's eyes burned with determination. "This isn't evolution. This is manipulation. You're playing god, Deucalion. You're stealing what makes us human—free will."

Deucalion laughed, low and mocking, as he stepped closer. His presence loomed over her, his red eyes gleaming.

"Free will?" He scoffed. "You still cling to that fragile illusion? It's a lie humans tell themselves to feel in control."

He lifted a hand, his fingers brushing against her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You and I, we are predators. Born to rule. Free will is a weakness we have outgrown."

Jane didn't flinch. Didn't back down. Instead, she took a step back, disgust flashing in her golden eyes.

"This isn't the Deucalion I met." Her voice was quieter now, laced with something almost like sorrow. "This isn't the alpha I believed in."

She let out a breath, shaking her head.

"Maybe this is why you're blind."

Deucalion stilled, his expression darkening.

"Careful, Jane."

Jane scoffed, her hands tightening at her sides. "Isn't this what all of this is really about? Revenge. That old man took your sight, and now you want to take everything from the world in return."

Deucalion's expression hardened, his lips curling into something between a sneer and a snarl.

"Revenge is a luxury I intend to take." His voice was ice. "And if you can't see the future I'm building, perhaps it is you who is blind."

Jane exhaled slowly, knowing there was no changing his mind. She had tried, again and again. But Deucalion was lost in his own vision of power, and she could no longer be a part of it.

"Then I'm leaving the pack."

A heavy silence fell over them.

Her packmates exchanged uneasy glances. Some looked ready to protest, to stop her—but Deucalion lifted a hand, silencing them with just a gesture.

He scoffed, his glowing red eyes narrowing.

"You're leaving? After everything we've been through?"

Jane lifted her chin, standing firm.

"Yes. I can't be part of this anymore, Deucalion."

His irritation faded into mocking amusement.

"And where do you think you'll go?" His tone was low, almost teasing. "Alone, in a world of werewolves and hunters?"

Jane didn't flinch.

"To my family."

Deucalion smirked, tilting his head.

"Have you forgotten?" He stepped closer. "They believe you're dead. You've spent years watching them from a distance, never daring to reveal yourself. Do you really think that's enough?"

Jane clenched her jaw, pain flickering behind her golden eyes.

"I haven't forgotten..." Her voice wavered for just a moment, then she straightened. "But I'm done hiding."

Deucalion chuckled darkly, a cruel smile on his lips.

"And what do you think will happen? That they'll welcome you with open arms? No questions, no fear?"

Jane took a breath, steadying herself.

"Then I'll keep my distance... just like I have since the night you turned me."

For a brief second, something shifted in Deucalion's expression. The ruthless Alpha, the monster he had become—it flickered, replaced by something almost... human. A shadow of the man he once was.

Then, he exhaled sharply, turning away.

"Then go." His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful. "I respect your decision. But don't forget—you will always be one of us."

Jane hesitated, surprise flickering across her face.

"You're... just letting me go? No fight? No punishment?"

Deucalion shrugged, his expression unreadable.

"You've been a loyal beta, Jane. I have no desire to hold you against your will."

Her chest tightened. After everything, a part of her still couldn't believe how easily he was letting her walk away.

Finally, she nodded.

"Thank you... for understanding."

Turning, she took her first step away. Then another. Her stomach twisted—these wolves had been her second family. She had fought beside them, bled beside them. Leaving them felt like ripping a piece of herself away.

Still, this was the only path forward.

As she walked, she heard footsteps behind her. Kali was the first to speak.

"We'll be waiting for your return, Jane."

She paused, looking back. The twins, Ethan and Aiden, watched her with unreadable expressions.

Ethan nodded. "Take care, Jane."

Aiden smirked faintly. "We'll miss you."

Even Ennis, the stoic one, shifted uncomfortably before speaking.

"Just... don't get yourself killed." His voice was gruff, but there was concern underneath. "Even if you leave, you're still our packmate."

Jane let out a soft chuckle, a bittersweet smile touching her lips.

"I'll try my best, Ennis… but no promises."

She met each of their gazes one last time before turning away, her heart heavy but resolute.

Then, just as she stepped into the night—

A howl cut through the air.

Deucalion.

A howl of farewell.

One by one, the others followed, their voices carrying through the darkness. A chorus of wolves singing her goodbye.

Jane swallowed hard. She knew she had made the right choice. But they were still her family, in a way they would never truly understand.

So, just this once—she tilted her head back and howled with them.

The next morning]

The morning sun cast long shadows as Jane walked up to the familiar house—the home she had dreamed of returning to for years. But something felt… off. The curtains were drawn, the driveway empty. The house was locked. There were no signs of life.

Her stomach twisted. Where were they?

"Did they move? No… They wouldn't just leave… would they?"

"Excuse me, young lady?"

Jane turned quickly to see an old man standing near his porch, watching her with curiosity. He was one of the longtime neighbors—someone her parents had spoken to now and then.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Jane forced a smile, keeping her tone casual.

"Yes, actually. The Garcias. Do you know if they're home?"

The old man's expression softened, but there was something in his eyes—pity.

"Oh, you mean the Garcias? They moved abroad. Europe, I heard."

Jane's breath hitched. Moved?

The old man squinted at her, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Say… you look familiar. Who are you?"

Jane swallowed hard. She couldn't exactly tell him the truth.

"Oh, I'm just… a relative. Came to visit."

The old man chuckled, eyeing her more closely.

"A relative, huh?" His smile was knowing, but not unkind.

Jane grinned sheepishly, trying to keep her cool.

"Yep."

He let out a small laugh, nodding.

"Well, I see. But if you were visiting, why didn't they know you were coming?"

Jane hesitated before shrugging, playing it off with a casual smirk.

"Thought I'd surprise them. You know, unannounced visit."

The old man's brow lifted in amusement.

"A surprise, huh? And what exactly were you surprising them with?"

Jane let out a nervous chuckle, shifting on her feet.

"Oh, just... a visit. Figured it'd be fun to see their reaction."

The old man hummed in thought before sighing.

"Well, unfortunately, they left just last week. Packed up everything."

A week ago.

Jane's heart sank. She had missed them by just a few days. If she had left Deucalion's pack earlier—if she had come back sooner—maybe she could have seen them.

But now? They were gone.

She forced a smile, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest.

"I see…"

The old man gave her a reassuring nod before stepping back toward his house.

"Like I said, Europe. Maybe you'll find them there if you go."

Jane gave him a small wave as he disappeared inside.

Once he was gone, her smile faded. She exhaled, staring at the empty house, the memories of her past flashing in her mind.

"Europe…" she murmured to herself.

That was a long way away. But if that's where her family was… maybe that's where she needed to be.

Without hesitation, Jane pushed the door open with a quiet creak, the force of her strength making it easier than it should have been. The scent of home—dusty yet familiar—hit her immediately, and for a moment, she just stood there, breathing it in.

The hallway stretched before her, untouched. It was like time had stopped the moment her family left. Framed pictures still lined the walls, the same old furniture sat in its place, and the faint scent of her mother's favorite lavender candles still lingered in the air.

Her chest tightened.

"It's like they never left… but they did."

Jane stepped further inside, her footsteps light but deliberate. Every corner held a memory—a glimpse of a childhood that felt like another life. She half-expected to hear Javi's laughter from the other room or her parents calling her name.

But the silence was deafening.

Jane made her way down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest. When she reached her bedroom door, she hesitated for a moment before slowly pushing it open.

The room was immaculate—untouched, yet clearly maintained. No dust had settled on the furniture, and the bed was neatly made, just as she had left it. Her old posters still clung to the walls, slightly faded with time. Trinkets and books remained on the shelves, carefully arranged as if someone had been tending to them regularly.

Her throat tightened. Even after all these years, they had kept it clean… as if they had never truly let her go.

"They still cared… they still missed me."

Jane stepped inside, running her fingers over the surface of her desk. It was smooth, polished. Someone—her mother, maybe Javi—had wiped it down again and again, refusing to let dust claim what was left of her.

Her gaze fell on a picture frame by her bedside—a photo of her and Javi as kids, arms thrown around each other, laughing like the world hadn't yet shown them its cruelty. She picked it up, her hands trembling slightly.

"I was never forgotten."

The realization both warmed her heart and shattered it at the same time.

Jane let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the past pressing down on her. She had spent the entire day in this house, lost in memories, allowing herself to feel everything she had buried deep inside.

Now, under the cover of night, the house felt different. The warmth of the afternoon had faded, replaced by a stillness that seeped into her bones. The dim glow of the moon filtered through the curtains, casting silver streaks across the wooden floor. Shadows stretched long and deep, making the house feel even emptier than before.

Her fingers hovered over a framed photograph of her parents and Javi. It was taken on her last birthday before she "died." Her father had an arm slung around her shoulder, her mother's smile was radiant, and Javi—just a boy back then—stood beside her, grinning with all the innocence of youth. Jane swallowed hard.

"They were happy."

She turned away, gripping the edge of the bookshelf as she closed her eyes, fighting back another wave of emotion. She had made her choice that night with Deucalion. She had chosen to survive. But standing here now, surrounded by the life she had left behind, she couldn't help but wonder—had she really lived? Or had she merely been existing in the shadows?

A sudden thud broke the silence.

Jane's eyes snapped open, her senses sharpening instantly. She wasn't alone.

A sudden, loud thud echoed through the house.

Jane's entire body went rigid. The scent hit her before the sound of boots did—gun oil, sweat, and something metallic beneath it. Hunters.

Her heartbeat quickened as she heard voices outside. She crept toward the window, barely peeking through the curtain. A group of men and women, armed with rifles and wolfsbane-laced weapons, spread out in the yard. Their leader, a tall man with a scar running down his jaw, stepped forward, his voice sharp and commanding.

"Find Deucalion's beta at all costs."

Jane's breath hitched. They were looking for her.

She had been careful, always staying in the shadows. Had Deucalion's enemies been tracking her all this time? Or had someone betrayed her?

The front door rattled as one of the hunters slammed their shoulder against it.

"Check the perimeter. If she's here, she won't escape."

Jane's mind raced. She was strong, but she was outnumbered. And this wasn't just any fight—these were trained hunters, ready to take down werewolves like her without hesitation.

She had to move. Now.

Jane remained completely still, her supernatural hearing picking up every breath, every cautious footstep of the hunters creeping through her home. They were thorough, checking every corner, every shadow.

*"Clear the kitchen!" one whispered.

*"Check upstairs," another muttered.

She flexed her fingers, her claws sliding out instinctively. Her muscles coiled, ready to strike.

A hunter stepped too close, his rifle raised, scanning the room.

"Nothing here—"

Jane moved in a blur. Before he could react, she grabbed his head and twisted sharply. A sickening crack echoed through the house.

"She's here!" another hunter shouted, his voice sharp with alarm.

No time to think.

Jane darted toward the window, shattering through the glass just as the leader barked orders.

"Go! Don't let her escape!"

The moment she hit the ground, she was running. The night air stung against her skin, but the adrenaline drowned out the pain. Behind her, boots pounded against pavement, the hunters giving chase.

Jane's feet barely touched the ground as she sprinted through the dense forest, her heart pounding like a war drum. The trees blurred past her, shadows flickering in the moonlight. Behind her, the hunters crashed through the undergrowth, their shouts and heavy boots echoing through the woods.

"Don't let her get away!" the leader barked.

A gunshot rang out, the bullet whizzing past her ear, embedding itself in a tree trunk. Jane snarled, pushing herself harder. She knew these woods—she had played in them as a child, long before she ever knew what lurked in the darkness. But now, she was the thing lurking in the darkness.

She veered left, dodging between thick oaks, hoping to lose them in the maze of towering trees and twisting paths. Her lungs burned, but she didn't slow down. Another shot—closer this time. She gritted her teeth. If they cornered her, she would have no choice but to fight.

Then, a scent hit her nose—something metallic, sharp.

More hunters ahead.

Jane skidded to a stop, her claws digging into the dirt. Trapped. Her golden eyes darted around for an escape. She had two options—fight her way through or find another path before they closed in completely.

Perched high in the trees, the leader steadied his aim, his eyes locked onto his target. He pulled the trigger.

The tranquilizer dart sliced through the air, embedding itself deep into Jane's shoulder. She staggered, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as the sedative began to take effect. Her limbs grew heavy, her vision swam, and the world around her twisted into a blur.

"You... bastard," she slurred, her breath ragged as she fought against the inevitable.

The leader smirked, satisfied as he watched her struggle. He dropped down from the tree, landing gracefully, boots crunching against the forest floor. His men formed a tight circle around her, weapons at the ready, though it was clear she wouldn't be putting up much of a fight.

"Looks like you're not as dangerous as they say," he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement.

Jane bared her teeth, golden eyes flickering weakly before she collapsed to her knees. Her body betrayed her, the tranquilizer winning its battle against her willpower.

"Tsk, tsk. You gave us quite the chase, but in the end, you all fall the same," the leader mused, crouching down to her level. He tilted his head, watching her eyelids flutter, her breathing slow.

"Tie her up," he ordered, standing to his full height. "We're taking her in."

The hunters moved in without hesitation, binding her wrists and ankles with thick chains. The last thing Jane registered before darkness claimed her was the leader's chuckle and the cold bite of metal against her skin.

Hours passed

Jane's head lolled to the side as she slowly regained consciousness. A sharp slap to her cheek forced her eyes open, and she groaned, squinting against the harsh warehouse light above her. The dull throb in her head was nothing compared to the ache in her bound wrists and ankles, the thick chains biting into her skin.

"Wake up," a voice drawled.

Blinking away the haze, Jane's golden eyes snapped to the figure standing before her. The smirk on his lips was infuriating.

"Well, look who's finally up," he mused. "You put up a decent fight, but the tranquilizer did its job."

Jane tugged at her restraints, testing them, before meeting his gaze with a scowl.

"You bastard."

The man clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Tsk, tsk. That's no way to talk to your gracious host. And for the record, my name's Henry. Say it."

Jane scoffed, unimpressed.

"Henry? What an ugly name."

His smirk widened as if entertained by her defiance.

"There you go. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Jane rolled her eyes, ignoring him, which only seemed to amuse him more. Henry crouched beside her, tilting his head.

"So… where's your alpha?"

Jane let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head.

"That's why you went through all this trouble? Kidnapping me, tying me up, and ruining my night just to ask about Deucalion? How disappointing."

Henry's eyes darkened slightly, but his smirk remained intact.

"You think you're clever, sweetheart?"

Jane's glare sharpened.

"Don't call me that."

He grinned, leaning in just enough for her to feel his breath against her cheek.

"Oh, but it gets you riled up. I think I like it."

Without hesitation, Jane spat in his face, her voice a low growl as she promised,

"Don't ever let me get free. Because when I do, I'll rip your heart out and eat it while you watch."

For a split second, Henry's smirk faltered, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, he wiped the spit from his cheek, his expression hardening.

"Feisty, aren't we?"

His fingers snapped, the sharp sound echoing through the warehouse.

"Let's see how long that attitude lasts."

The other hunters stepped forward, surrounding her. The first blow came swiftly—a hard punch to her ribs. Jane clenched her teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. But they weren't stopping anytime soon.

The torture had begun.

"Henry and the hunters wasted no time in inflicting pain on Jane, their hands cruel and unrelenting. They cut her with silver, the searing metal slicing into her skin, each wound burning like wildfire. The sharp, white-hot agony of it spread through her veins, but Jane refused to scream. She clenched her teeth, her eyes locked on the floor, fighting to keep her composure. Then came the electricity. They strapped her to a chair and sent jolts of silver-charged current coursing through her body, the pain a violent, uncontrollable wave that shook her to the core. Her muscles spasmed, her vision blurred, but even as every nerve screamed in agony, Jane's will remained unbroken. The pain was almost unbearable, each shock stripping away the layers of her strength, but her mind stayed clear. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her surrender. Every time her body screamed, her resolve only hardened. They could torture her, they could try to break her physically, but they would never break her spirit. She was stronger than they could ever understand."

Hours passed.

The pain was excruciating, but Jane refused to break. Her body ached, bruises forming under her skin, blood dripping from cuts they had inflicted. Yet, through it all, she didn't scream. She didn't beg. She just stared at Henry, her golden eyes burning with unyielding fury.

Henry stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

"Still holding out?" he mused, stepping closer. He crouched in front of her, tilting his head. "I have to admit, you're tougher than most. Normally, they crack by now."

Jane took a slow, painful breath. "Guess you're not as good at this as you thought."

Henry chuckled. "Oh, sweetheart, I enjoy a challenge."

He reached for a nearby table, picking up a small, silver knife. The blade gleamed under the dim light, and Jane tensed.

"Silver burns, doesn't it?" he mused, twirling the knife between his fingers. "I hear it's excruciating for werewolves. Slows the healing. Leaves scars. And I bet… if I cut deep enough…"

He let the words hang, smirking as he traced the tip of the blade along her exposed arm, pressing just enough to sting. Jane hissed but didn't look away.

"Where is Deucalion?" Henry asked again, voice lighter this time, like he was asking about the weather.

Jane remained silent.

Henry sighed dramatically. "Fine. We'll do this the hard way."

Without warning, he drove the knife into her side.

Jane gritted her teeth, her whole body seizing from the sharp, burning pain. She gasped, but she didn't scream. Henry twisted the blade slightly, watching her reaction.

"You're impressive," he admitted. "But everyone has a breaking point. Even you."

Jane met his gaze, her breathing labored but steady. Despite the pain, she smirked.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Henry studied her, then pulled the knife out in one swift motion. Blood seeped from the wound, and Jane clenched her jaw. He stood up, wiping the blade clean.

"Leave her for now," he told his men. "Let her stew in the pain. We'll try again later."

The hunters nodded and exited the room, leaving Jane chained and bleeding in the dim light.

As soon as they were gone, Jane let out a shaky breath. Her body screamed in pain, but her mind was still sharp. She wasn't giving up. She wasn't breaking.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus.

She had to escape.

The dim light of the warehouse flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. Jane's wrists ached from the restraints, but she barely noticed. Her sharp eyes were locked onto the young hunter standing guard. He gripped his weapon tightly, his fingers twitching slightly—nervous.

Too nervous.

That's when she saw it.

Her way out.

"Hey, kiddo."

The hunter's gaze snapped to her, surprise flickering in his eyes. His stance stiffened, like he was trying to mask his unease.

"What?" he asked, voice steady but just a little too tight.

Jane tilted her head, smirking slightly.

"First time?"

The hunter's jaw tensed.

"What's it to you?" he shot back, defensive.

"Relax," Jane said smoothly. "Not judging. Just noticing."

The hunter shifted his grip, but there was hesitation in the way he held his weapon now.

"Then why do you care?" His voice had softened just a little.

Jane exhaled, letting her smirk fade into something more genuine. She had to play this carefully.

"Because I pity you."

That got his attention. His brows furrowed, and for the first time, there was something other than duty in his expression—something uncertain.

"Pity me?" He scoffed, but it lacked conviction.

"Yeah." Jane's voice was calm, measured. "Look at yourself. You're too young for this life."

The hunter's fingers twitched on his weapon. He tried to steel his expression, but Jane could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"I can handle myself," he muttered.

"I'm sure you can." Jane nodded, keeping her tone even. "But handling yourself and doing the right thing? Those aren't the same thing."

The hunter inhaled sharply, like he was about to argue, but then he hesitated. That was her opening.

"Why put yourself through this?" she pressed.

He swallowed, looking away for a second before setting his jaw.

"Because... it's my duty." But there was hesitation in the way he said it, like he was trying to convince himself.

Jane gave a low chuckle.

"Your duty, huh? And what does that duty include? Torturing creatures like me? Killing people just because someone told you to?"

His grip on his weapon faltered. That was it—she had hit something. A crack in the armor.

"You saw what your leader did," Jane continued, voice dropping slightly. "Is that really what you signed up for?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. His gaze flickered to the door, then back to her. He was conflicted. And Jane was going to push him over the edge.

"You think we're monsters?" She leaned forward slightly. "Even creatures like me have families. People we love. We bleed, we hurt, we grieve just like you."

The hunter clenched his jaw. His breathing was uneven now.

"And why should I believe you?"

Jane smirked, tilting her head.

"Because I'm giving you a chance to do the right thing."

A long silence stretched between them. His face was tense, his mind racing. Then, finally, he took a shaky breath and stepped closer.

"If I let you go…" He hesitated. "You have to promise me one thing."

"And what's that?" Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If I get caught… if they find out I helped you—you won't kill me." His voice was steady, but there was a deep fear in his eyes.

Jane held his gaze for a long moment, then gave him the most honest answer she could.

"I won't hurt you unless you give me a reason to."

Another beat of silence. Then, slowly, his fingers reached for the chains. He hesitated, then unlocked them.

"Stephen."

Jane blinked, flexing her wrists as the restraints fell away. She looked at him, confused.

"What?"

"Stephen is my name," he said, standing up straight.

A small smirk tugged at her lips as she rolled her sore wrists.

"Nice to meet you, Stephen."

"And you?"

She met his gaze and nodded.

"Jane. Jane Anuevo."

Jane and Stephen stepped out of the room, their movements careful. The air was thick with tension. Every shadow felt like a threat, every distant noise a warning.

Stephen kept his hand on his weapon, eyes darting around warily. He wasn't sure if he was protecting her—or himself.

"Is it true?" he asked suddenly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jane glanced at him, eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"Is what true?"

Stephen hesitated, then met her gaze.

"That you're really going to rip out Henry's heart… and make him watch?"

Jane chuckled, the sound low and dark.

"Oh, I 100% plan on doing that."

Stephen swallowed hard. A shiver ran down his spine, but something about her certainty—her sheer, unshaken resolve—left him both unsettled and oddly intrigued.

"Right..." he muttered, forcing himself to look away. "Remind me never to piss you off."

"Smart kid." Jane smirked, then her expression sobered. "Now, tell me—where's the exit? And where are the others?"

Stephen gestured down the corridor, voice hushed.

"The exit is this way. The others are out on patrol, but they'll be back soon. You don't have much time."

Jane nodded, then turned to him, expression unreadable.

"Go."

Stephen blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"I still have unfinished business here." Jane's voice was firm but calm. "You need to leave before they realize what you did."

Stephen hesitated, torn between fear and something deeper—something he wasn't ready to name. He had spent his whole life believing werewolves were nothing but monsters. But Jane… she wasn't what they told him she would be. She was dangerous, yes. But she was also right.

"And what about you?" he asked quietly.

Jane gave a small shrug.

"I've been through worse." She met his gaze, her expression softer now. "Don't let them pull you back in, Stephen. You don't belong in this life. Be better than them."

Stephen clenched his jaw, conflicted. But then he nodded, something like respect flashing in his eyes.

"I promise."

Jane gave him a final nod before turning away, disappearing into the shadows. And with one last glance, Stephen took off down the corridor, his heart pounding—not from fear, but from the realization that he had just made the most important choice of his life.

_____________________________________________

[Few moments later]

The blaring alarm echoed through the compound, bouncing off the steel walls like a war cry. Chaos erupted as hunters scrambled for their weapons, their panicked voices overlapping.

"What the hell was that?!"

Henry stormed into the room, his face twisted in fury. His sharp eyes scanned the now-empty restraints where Jane had been held.

"Someone tell me how she escaped!" he barked, his voice dripping with rage.

The hunters exchanged frantic glances, their confusion evident.

"We—we don't know, sir!" one stammered.

Henry's fists slammed against the nearest table, sending scattered papers flying.

"Find her! Now!"

*Suddenly, the lights cut out.

Darkness.

Silence blanketed the room, thick and suffocating. The hunters stiffened, their senses on high alert. Someone fumbled for a flashlight, the beam slicing through the pitch black.

"The power's out!" a hunter whispered, his voice tinged with unease.

"No shit," Henry hissed, his grip tightening around his weapon. He pressed his radio. "Someone get the damn lights back o—"

A wet, gurgling sound filled the air.

Henry froze. So did the others.

A faint shuffle. A sharp inhale. Then—

SLASH.

A choked scream rang out, cut short by a sickening thud as a body hit the floor.

"What the hell was that!?" a hunter yelped, his flashlight darting around wildly.

"Stay together! Eyes open!" Henry growled, but there was a slight tremor in his voice.

Another scream. Another thud.

The beam of light caught a glimpse of movement—a flash of claws, a shadow shifting in the darkness. Then—

SLASH.

Blood sprayed against the walls. A hunter collapsed, twitching as his body went limp.

"Shit, shit, shit—" another hunter backed up, his breath ragged.

"Hold your ground!" Henry snarled, though fear had begun to creep into his voice. He aimed blindly into the dark.

A low, eerie chuckle echoed from the void.

"You still there, Henry?"

His blood ran cold.

The lights flickered back on.

Standing in the carnage, amidst bodies and pooling blood, was Jane. She cocked her head, her eyes gleaming with predatory amusement.

"Well, well, well..." she drawled, licking a stray drop of blood from her fingertips. "Still remember my promise, Henry?"

The remaining hunters stood frozen, their weapons raised but hands trembling. The coppery scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the raw, suffocating fear radiating from them.

Henry, however, held his ground. His jaw clenched, his grip on his weapon turning white-knuckled.

"You're a goddamn monster," he spat, his voice filled with rage—but beneath it, a crack of fear.

Jane tilted her head, her smirk slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey.

"A monster?" she mused, taking a step forward, her claws glistening red. "Oh, Henry… Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?"

Henry's eyes flickered to his fallen men, their lifeless bodies crumpled around him. He tightened his stance, raising his weapon higher.

"I should have killed you while I had the chance."

Jane nodded slowly, her smirk widening, menace burning in her gaze.

"That... was your mistake."

Henry exhaled sharply, his breath shaky. He could feel the sweat gathering at his temple, but he refused to back down.

"I'm not letting you leave here alive."

Jane grinned. A flash of movement—too fast for the human eye. The sound of tearing flesh. Agonized screams that barely had time to escape before they were silenced.

One by one, the hunters collapsed, their bodies hitting the cold floor like discarded dolls. The room was quiet again. Too quiet.

Henry's breath hitched. His fingers trembled against the trigger.

He was the only one left.

Jane took a slow step toward him, blood splattered across her skin like war paint. She met his wide-eyed stare, her expression nothing short of amused.

"Now," she purred, "let's talk about that promise."

Henry's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. His hands trembled, but he forced himself to steady the gun. He had faced many horrors in his life—creatures, monsters, death—but nothing like this.

Jane stepped forward, her movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring every moment of his fear. Blood dripped from her claws, staining the cold floor in dark crimson pools.

"You know, Henry," she mused, her voice carrying a cold, dangerous amusement, "I wasn't lying when I made that promise."

Henry's throat tightened. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of terror. He took a step back, then another, his back hitting the cold concrete wall. Trapped.

"You… You don't have to do this," he stammered, desperation slipping into his voice. The gun in his hand was no longer steady.

Jane tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips, her golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. She crouched down slightly, a predator sizing up her prey, her body language speaking of years of brutal training and instinct.

"Don't I?" she whispered, her tone dangerously calm. "You hunted me. But you forgot one thing: I'm still Deucalion's beta."

She moved closer, each step bringing her nearer to him, her claws gleaming like deadly knives. Henry's breath quickened as he stared into her eyes, horrified by the coldness in them. He was trapped, and he knew it.

"Tell me, Henry," she said softly, her voice a smooth, venomous purr, "Did someone like you ever feel fear?"

Before he could answer, the world seemed to blur. In an instant, Jane was on him. Her claws sank deep into his chest, tearing through flesh and bone with terrifying ease. He gasped, mouth opening in a silent scream, but there was no sound, only the sickening squelch as she wrapped her fingers around his heart. It thudded violently in her palm, its frantic beat pulsing against her skin.

She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, the weight of her presence suffocating.

"You should've killed me when you had the chance," she whispered, her voice like ice.

With a brutal yank, she ripped his heart free from his chest. His body jerked as life drained from him, his eyes wide in shock, frozen in an expression of horror.

Jane held the still-beating heart in front of her, watching the last flickers of life slip away from it. Her gaze was cold, unfeeling as she crushed it in her hand, the blood slipping between her fingers in a slow, steady stream.

"Bitter," she muttered, staring at the remnants of his heart. "Just like you."

Her lips curled into a dark smirk, a twisted satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. The promise she had made to herself—her vow to not be a victim—was fulfilled. She ate it all.

The warehouse fell silent, the air thick with the weight of what had just happened. No more voices. No more hunters. Just her and the dark void that seemed to swallow the life from the room.

Jane exhaled, a deep, steadying breath. She rolled her shoulders and, without a second glance at the lifeless body at her feet, turned and walked away. The door creaked as she opened it, her figure disappearing into the night, leaving only silence in her wake.

[To be CONTINUED]