The Confession

Nyx POV

The silence in the shared house had morphed into a suffocating, electric storm of tension. Every creak of the floorboards, every muffled sigh through the walls felt like bracing for a loud crack of thunder to shatter the fragile peace. Desperate to avoid confronting the terrifying reality of being hunted, I practically moved into the vet clinic. I volunteered for every late shift, scrubbed kennels until my hands ached, and organized inventory lists just to delay the inevitable moment I had to walk through my own front door. But my avoidance did not go unnoticed.

My keys barely jingled against the lock before I pushed the door open, my muscles already wound tight from exhaustion and anxiety. The moment I stepped onto the hallway runner, I spotted her. Marcella sat slumped on the bottom step of the stairs, waiting in the shadows.

Before I could even kick my boots off, she scrambled up. She closed the distance between us and unexpectedly jumped into my arms. Her hands gripped my jacket tight, her face burying into my shoulder as raw, hysterical sobs ripped from her throat.

"Marcie, hey," I murmured, shocked by the sudden weight. I wrapped my arms around her trembling frame, trying to steady us both. "What’s wrong?"

"Are you angry at us?" she choked out, her tears soaking through my collar. "Is that why you’re avoiding coming home? We're so sorry that guy showed up on girls' night. Please, you have to talk to us about this. We don't want you to just disappear."

My chest tightened in a painful knot. I stood there, holding her, unable to form a single coherent sentence. How could I explain that my distance was the only shield I had left to offer them? If the hunters caught my scent, or if the werewolf packs realized I had established ties with ordinary humans, they would become instant targets. Caught in the crossfire of a war they didn't even know existed. I couldn't risk them being viewed as enemies. I couldn't risk failing to protect them.

Marcella’s heart-wrenching cries acted like a siren. Footsteps hurried down the hallway, drawing Sylvia and Roxana out of their rooms. Seeing Marcella’s distress, they didn't hesitate or ask questions. They just moved in, wrapping their arms around both of us and pulling me into a desperate, tight huddle right there by the stairs.

We eventually shuffled into the living room, collapsing onto the worn couch in a tangled mess. Marcella kept a death grip on my hand, refusing to let me go.

Sylvia, ever the practical planner of our group, wiped a stray tear from her own cheek and shifted into problem-solving mode. "Okay, we need a strategic solution here. None of us want to lose our best friend of over five years, so you are not running away. You have a life here, Nyx, and you shouldn't be bullied out of it."

I stared down at the scuffed floorboards. "You have no idea what you’re asking."

"Then tell us," Roxana demanded. The usual playful glint in her eyes was gone, replaced by a fierce frustration. "I have known you the longest, and I know nothing about your life before the day we met. Why won't you trust us?"

"It's not that I don't trust you!" I pleaded, my voice cracking under the strain. "You'll be in severe danger if I let you know. Everything I do, every secret I keep, is a protective measure to shield you from the crossfire. So please, just drop it and let me work it out."

Sylvia let out a heavy, pointed sigh. "Well, you're going to have to start telling us something, because since Gideon showed up, we are already involved. If we’re going to develop a safety plan and be strategic, we need to know something. Even if that is just knowing exactly how much danger we are in."

She stated everything so matter-of-factly, which was beyond annoying because I knew she was right. The cold logic backed me straight into a corner. I looked at the three of them—my anchor to this normal, peaceful world. Maybe if they heard the horrifying truth, it would finally make them let me go.

I took a slow, deep breath. "I'm not exactly human."

The reaction was instantaneous. All three of them snapped backward, sitting bolt upright on the cushions. Marcella’s sobbing cut off abruptly, her tear-stained eyes widening in shock.

Sylvia blinked, genuine shock freezing her usually composed features. "Of all the things you could have said, I was definitely not expecting that."

Roxana let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "I had a bunch of theories involving government conspiracies and witness protection, but that was not on my list."

Marcella didn't laugh. She huddled deeper into the couch, trembling with pure terror. She looked at me, her voice barely a whisper. "What are you?"

I swallowed hard, dodging the specific species question. Saying the word out loud felt like sealing my fate. "Honestly, that’s not important. What matters is that I left that life to live as a human, and I have done so since I was thirteen. To them, I’m considered a deserter."

Marcella started shaking even harder. "Are these people going to hurt us?"

"I don't know," I admitted, the ugly truth hanging heavy in the air. "That’s exactly why I need to pack up and leave. To protect you."

"No," Sylvia countered rationally, immediately shooting down my flight response. "Think about it. Do we know what they want? Gideon only said Mr. Voss wants to talk to you. Gideon already proved they can track you anywhere, so running is futile. Maybe Voss means you no harm."

Roxana frowned, nodding in agreement. "I didn’t get any non-human vibes from Gideon. He seemed almost gentle when talking to you, and he said he’d just follow you if you refused to talk to Mr. Voss anyway. Wait, is he not human either?"

"Gideon is human," I explained, rubbing my temples. "He’s just a... gifted one. But Mr. Voss is exactly like me."

Sylvia tapped her chin, piecing the puzzle together. "Well, the most logical step is to speak with Mr. Voss. We deduce his motives, work out what he wants, and decide from there. There's no point running in the meantime if he plans to track you anyway."

My chest tightened so painfully I could barely draw breath. My hands shook in my lap as I verbalized my greatest fear. "He’s already told me what he wants. He wants to drag me back to that life."

The room went dead silent. The sheer terror radiating from me at the thought of returning to that abusive pack structure was palpable. I expected them to back away.

Instead, Roxana set her jaw, unfazed by the supernatural threat. The fear vanished, replaced by a fierce determination. "Then all of us will raise hell to keep you here."