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h a u n t

THE SILENCE BETWEEN us was deafening. A shudder ripped through me as I stared at what Jed had written. "Malthus Trevino," I whispered at last. "That's your – "

– brother, he wrote, shoving the paper close to the photograph and drawing a haphazard arrow to link the word to the person in the picture. Then he drew another arrow pointing to the man on the left, and added – father. Claudius Trevino.

Realisation dawned on me. "The brown wolf. That was...that was the wolf you killed, wasn't he?"

The action was swift, but it was impossible to miss the way Jed flinched, his fingers curled tightly around the pen. He gave a fleeting nod, but looked so guilt-stricken that I felt my chest tighten as I watched him. So he'd killed his father. It was something I'd suspected all along, but I was also fast realising that in a situation like this, everyone's moral compasses seemed to be blurred.

"I'm not mad," I assured him softly, sliding my hand across the table and tilting it with my palm facing up. It took him several seconds to shift closer, his eyes darting up to scan my face intently before he finally skimmed his fingertips across my palm, letting his fingers intertwine with mine. I brushed my thumb gently across the side of his hand, before looking at him. "I've heard the other werewolves talk about your father. He clearly – wasn't doing a good job, judging by the way they speak of him. Is that why you wanted him gone?"

He nodded, even though his eyes fixed on me. I realised then that he'd braced himself for any disgust or condemnation, the kind he'd probably seen from anyone beyond Titan.

But I had none.

I'd always known that Jed had a complicated background, from the moment those rogues had accused him of killing his family, along with innocent women and children. But what if Jed had killed certain members of his family because it was necessary? Because they, not him, were the ones who had captured and killed the innocent?

"The dates." A sudden thought occurred to me and I dragged the list of missing women over. The dates were set in chronological order and I pointed to the first one. "That's dated back over fifty years ago. Your brother wasn't the first person who did this, was he? It was your father."

Jed lowered his head. Then he flipped over to a new sheet of paper and began writing:

I was sixteen when Claudius told me about the initiation. A rite of passage. I thought it was just the usual turning into werewolves. But he drove me several miles out to an abandoned warehouse. Showed me a room with two bound, naked and gagged women. Put a whip in my hands and told me I could do whatever I wanted with them. That's when I realised it wasn't an initiation. It was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

Malthus was in the same room. I could hear the screams of the girl he was torturing. I could hear him laughing. And I wanted to leave but couldn't, because Claudius was bolting the door shut. He wouldn't let me leave. He swore that this was how a young boy became a man. A man with Alpha-blood running through his veins, a man with power, a man with a legacy. His legacy.

This revelation shed light on a matter that had remained dark all this while. If I'd been scared of Malthus Trevino before, Claudius Trevino had to be far more terrifying, because he made monsters in his own image. And what happened when you didn't want to become one of the monsters?

Suddenly, I knew, and then I wasn't just terrified. All the memories came rushing back, all the pieces just slotted back into place, one after another. Why Jed never spoke. Why Jed lived in isolation. Why Jed avoided physical contact.

They broke him.

"Claudius locked you in," I whispered at last. "He locked you in and...your brother was there. And they didn't let you out, did they?"

Slowly, he shook his head. But it was absolutely impossible to miss the way a shiver wracked through him, a flicker of pain glimpsing his eyes before it was all gone in a flash. My breath caught in my throat and it felt like a different kind of heartbreak altogether, because he wasn't breaking my heart. No, it was more along the lines of feeling some inexplicable form of pain for him. For all the things he'd had to go through, alone, and he was just sixteen and couldn't do anything to stop it from happening.

"So that's why you killed him," I breathed. "That's why you wanted to take over Titan."

Jed nodded and lowered his head to write again.

I wanted to leave but couldn't, not when Titan was still in the hands of a sadistic man who raped and killed for fun. And I couldn't let Malthus continue with these twisted games either. To become an Alpha, the pack has to be handed to you or won from the previous Alpha. So in the years that followed, I taught myself how to fight. How to kill

He paused, his eyes flickering up to mine unsurely. I blinked. It almost seemed like he was waiting for me to veer away from him in repulsion once again, but the mere idea of that was ridiculous. Yes – killing was wrong. But killing monsters?

How could you possibly keep a perfect moral compass in the face of monsters?

When I didn't react, a fleeting look of surprise glimpsed his face for a moment before he looked back down and continued to write.

and how to numb myself to
when killing. When I was twenty, Malthus disappeared. We received word that one of the other packs, Aitne, had killed him. Everyone thought he was dead. Titan razed Aitne to the ground after that.

My goal in the following years seemed clearer then – the only monster I had to defeat was Claudius. I kept training, kept resisting, kept fighting – until I knew that I was stronger than him. I knew that I could kill him. It was so easy. But I was just so fucking terrified every time I came face to face with him.

Until one night, when he came into my room and tried to force himself on me again. And I was about to do the same thing I always did – fight him until he'd finally give up and realise that there were easier targets out there. But that night, he was sober. He looked me in the eyes and said, "You're never going to stop fighting me, are you? Just like your mother used to do until I finally won. Too bad she was dead by then and couldn't participate in my fucking victory."

Something in me just snapped and then I wasn't terrified anymore. I trailed him out into town and cornered him in an alley. Forced him to shift, all the while knowing that there wasn't a sliver of a chance he was coming out alive in that fight.

His revelation put a whole new light on the night we first met. He wasn't being a monster — he was riding the world of one. I watched as his grip tightened around the pen, knuckles white, as he continued to write.

I'm so sorry. I know that I'm broken. I've been damaged by Claudius and Malthus – more times than I can count, more times than I can remember. I'm the farthest thing from the kind of man you deserve and I would understand perfectly if you stepped out of that door right now and never wanted to

He stopped when I reached over and caught the tip of the pen, preventing him from writing another word. His jaw was clenched and when he darted his eyes up to meet mine, the hurt in them was almost physically painful. Shifting closer to him so that the table was no longer separating us, I gently pried to pen from his grasp and set it aside, before bringing his palm up so that it was resting against my cheek. I hadn't even realised that I'd been crying until he carefully brushed his thumb gently across my skin, his other hand reaching up to do the same to my other cheek.

"Never, ever think that I would want to leave you," I told him quietly, my voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "I was scared at first, but all I needed was answers. And now that I have that, I'm never leaving you for as long as you'll have me."

The hurt in his eyes faded just as quickly as his expression softened. There was something infinitely precious about the way he was looking at me – like time, space, everything peripheral in every dimension had all elapsed and ceased. In his eyes, in his world, I was the only person who existed and I was the only thing that mattered.

And when he slowly lowered his head to kiss me, I met him halfway. His lips were a gentle pressure on the corner of mine for just a fleeting second, before he caught my bottom lip between both of his, tilting his head in the perfect angle so that he could kiss me with more confidence this time. It wasn't like the first unexpected feather-light kiss we shared, or the second time he kissed me in a manner that was oddly curious.

This was – drowning.

He framed my face within his palms, and slanted his lips across mine. I whimpered at the hot, wet slide of his tongue. His kisses were hesitant, just like him. It was everything I could do to keep my hands by my sides. I wanted to touch him, but he needed to have the reins on this kiss.

A quiet, almost possessive growl ripped from the back of his throat when I easily let him in, like the way I yielded to him so swiftly pleased him to no end. And then he was kissing me deeply, familiarising himself with every dip and contour of my mouth, each delicious slide of his tongue against mine sending my heart-rate kicking up a notch, until I was nothing but mindless with his heated kisses, thinking of nothing else but him.

When he finally pulled away, his irises were almost bordering on obsidian but the expression on his face was soft. He brushed his thumb against my cheek again; his eyes crinkling in the corners with evident satisfaction when he realised that I was no longer crying.

"Thank you," He said quietly.

I blinked in surprise. What was he thanking me for? The kiss? Listening to him? Not leaving him?

But then I realised it didn't matter, especially when he leaned in to press his lips gently against my forehead. It was an action that came as a pleasant surprise to me, but it was impossible to stop the delicious shiver that raced down my spine when he let his mouth linger on my skin, the heat of his lips like fire branding me as his.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Everything became clear with Jed's revelation.

But while the pieces had fallen into place, finding out that the Alpha of Prometheus was Jed's brother somehow made everything more real, more dangerous. It was natural to fear the unknown, but sometimes, the most terrifying things were the ones you already knew.

The couch was empty when I woke up the next morning. Blinking blearily and trying to tame my frizzy hair, I pulled myself out of bed and headed into the bathroom, passing Jed who was in the kitchen on the way over. He glanced over at me but I simply waved him off, murmuring, "Morning breath. Don't ever come within three feet of me this time of day, given your heightened Alpha senses and all."

His lips twitched in amusement, even though the expression on his face was soft as he watched me stumble into the bathroom. After freshening up and taking a pleasant, warm shower, I twisted my damp hair into a loose braid over my shoulder and headed back out. Jed was leaning against the table, his head bent in deep concentration, but it wasn't until I edged nearer that I realised he was entirely focused on spreading butter on croissants.

I smiled brightly at him and settled down at the table. He nudged my plate towards me, and for a few minutes, we ate in companionable silence.

"Hey, Jed?" I asked after awhile, when I could no longer keep my curiosity at bay. He looked up questioningly and I offered him an apologetic smile. The topic I was about to bring up wasn't ideal, and was most likely going to ruin both our moods, but it had been one that I couldn't quite shake aside. "Sorry to ruin breakfast," I started self-deprecatingly, "But I have to ask – what do you think Malthus wants with you now?" He frowned and I hastened to add, "Is it revenge for Claudius's death? Control over Titan again? Or is this just a personal vendetta against you?"

He hesitated, before he reached for his phone to type – might be all three.

"In that case – you're not safe, and neither is Titan," I hypothesised, biting my lip worriedly as I gazed up at him. Claudius's reign was over and Jed had gotten rid of that monster from his past. But Malthus's modus operandi was still in full force.

That's why I'm heading back – was Jed's reply. I leaned across the table as I watched him type, his thumbs tapping swiftly across the screen of his cell, his actions so fluid it was almost beautiful to watch. The perimeters are secure now. You can follow me back if you want; or I could arrange an alternative place for you to

But I'd caught his fingers in a light grip before he could finish the sentence. "This isn't an either-or option. I stayed in this hotel because you knew we'd be safer here. But now that Titan's safe enough for you to head back, I'm going with you."

Uncertainty still clouded his expression, even though he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"When I met you, you brought me out of your world and into yours," I added softly. "Good or bad, I'm a part of it now. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

His frown faded as his green eyes turned bright, and he gave my fingers a little squeeze.

"Good." I smiled when he nodded in agreement, before giving into my impulses. The distance between us wasn't too far since I was leaning across the table, so I simply closed the remaining few inches and pressed my lips against his.

His lips were warm, the sudden hitch of his breath audible in the silence. Taken completely by surprise, Jed stilled against me but I drew away before he could react. But the brief contact between us was sufficient to send my head spinning and heart racing nonetheless, and I suspected that I'd always be this way around him.

Pulling back, I saw the dazed but satisfied expression on his face. My smile widened and I locked my fingers around his. "Let's go back to Titan."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Leaving the hotel with Jed gave me a rush of déjà vu. I was reminded of the time he went back with me to my apartment and we had to escape from Prometheus.

This time was no different. Jed was entirely focused; his senses alert and adamant on leaving no trace behind. We packed quietly and quickly, and I was more than amused to see him stuff his clothes haphazardly into his bag. For all his excellent organisational skills, he could certainly make messes if he wanted to.

He finished packing long before I did, and set his bag down by the doorway, before heading over to me. I threw him an apologetic glance over my shoulder and pushed down the clothes in my bag, because the zip just wouldn't pull.

"It's like a curse, I swear," I muttered in frustration, pushing my hair out of my face and yanking on the zip again. "Everything fits fine when you pack the first time, but when you're repacking it all goes to pieces."

Jed pulled my bag towards him. With a few sharp tugs, he zipped it shut.

"How'd you do that?" I asked, impressed. I held out a hand for my bag, but he swung it across his shoulder and reached for his own bag.

Then he was pulling out his phone to type a swift reply to me – magic.

"No way, you're teleki – " My eyes narrowed when I caught the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, his lips twitching as he gazed at me in barely-concealed mirth. "I cannot believe you'd do that! Things have been so bizarre that hardly anything ever fazes me anymore, and I was this close to believing you!"

To my surprise, he let out a quiet laugh, the sound so pleasant and unexpected that I never wanted to unhear it. He hardly ever smiled, almost never laughed; and it seemed that all the harsh circumstances in his life so far had taken those two simple things away from him altogether. It was impossible to stay mad at him when he looked like this – eyes bright, posture relaxed and his lips tilted up in a lethal smirk that threatened to rip my heart apart only to mend the frayed fissures back just as rapidly.

He ushered me out of the room. Instead of taking the key card, he left it in the lock and led me to the stairs.

Down the stairwell we went, until we were somewhere in a back alley away from the main street. Once there, Jed glanced around sharply before pulling me towards a smaller alcove, where he pulled out several sheets of paper, along with a lighter. A second glance made me realise that these were the notes he'd written for me the night before. I didn't question his motives for wanting to burn them. I'd burn them too if I had a history like that.

So I stayed silent and watched him light the papers one by one, finding it impossible to take my eyes off him at that moment. Not that looking at him didn't make me want to catch my breath – it always did; but this was something new. The green in his eyes was infinitely bright as he stared at the fire with an impassive expression on his face; the arbitrary flicker of flames highlighting his angular, strong features in undulating shades of light and dark. It was, I thought, a juxtaposition that represented him perfectly.

He noticed me watching him after awhile, and I couldn't help but blush at having been caught staring. "Just waiting to see if you're a pyrokinetic too," I murmured as an arbitrary joke, albeit a weak one, because my thoughts had all but engulfed me like the flames had the papers, and how could I explain how I felt to him? That, despite his dark past that he'd revealed to me the night before, he was still – well, light? Still light and still him and still the same man I was in love with?

Oblivious to my thoughts, he simply shot me an amused look before brushing his thumb over the open flame in an action so swift I barely caught it. The flame muted for a second or two, then blazed on like nothing had happened. He moved to do it again and I quickly placed a hand on his arm, knowing that when it came to things like these, he was just trying to show off like most men would do when challenged.

Boys.

"Don't do that!" I told him, trying but failing to express my disapproval when his lips lifted in a crooked smile that was almost a hint of a smirk. After a quick glance around, I looked back to see him still burning the rest of the papers, and I couldn't help but break the silence again. "You know what this place reminds me of?"

His eyebrows rose.

"That time – when we were escaping from my apartment, and you backed me into a tiny place that looked a lot like this."

His irises immediately darkened to a shade of alluring green, and I knew at once that he remembered. Perfectly. His eyes flickered momentarily to my lips and I felt a shiver race through me when I saw the intensity in his gaze. Like I was the centre of his world and it was the kind of intensity I never wanted to escape from.

Then he suddenly flinched, jerking his hand aside and it wasn't until I caught the searing red scarring his fingertips that I realised he'd accidentally burnt his hand in the distraction. Honestly, it was never my intention to become that kind of distraction that would result in him actually burning himself.

"Are you alright?" I gasped, quickly stepping forward to grasp his hand. "I'm really sorry," I murmured self-deprecatingly, inspecting the inflamed skin worriedly. "Does it hurt? Do you need to go to the – "

He shook his head and held up his hand. Thanks to his regenerative healing, the burns had swiftly faded away.

Something in his actions felt almost unsettling. It was the same as all the times he'd been hurt before and just shrugged it off, like they didn't matter. Perhaps they didn't. But he seemed so used to getting hurt that I felt my stomach twist into a tight knot at the thought of that.

But I held my tongue and followed him to his car. He drove for several minutes, until I finally could no longer keep my thoughts in.

His right hand was latched around the gearshift and I couldn't stop myself from reaching down to skim my fingertips across his knuckles. He was completely relaxed under my touch, but I could feel the minor callouses on his skin, rough under my fingers. "You know," I started quietly, when he threw me a questioning glance. "Just because you heal quickly doesn't mean that you don't hurt when it happens."

He tensed; the lines of veins along his arm stretching taut as he tightened his grip on the gearshift.

I drew in a deep breath. Jed had been honest with me all this while and I knew he wouldn't deny me an answer if I asked, but asking wasn't as easy as it seemed. "Did it hurt?" I said at last. "When – when they were...did it hurt?"

For a few seconds, he didn't reply. His jaw was clenched, his face impassive as he gazed blankly at the road ahead. Then he blinked, and for a moment, it seemed like his usual, indifferent façade had fallen away. I felt the slightest quiver of his hand under mine and he exhaled, his voice barely a whisper when he finally spoke.

"All the time."

I swallowed, feeling a sharp pain in my chest. This wasn't about me but when you felt for someone, when that person became such a big part of your life that you couldn't imagine being without, then everything that came with that person became personal to you as well.

"It's okay for you to feel hurt," I told him softly, feeling him shift his palm slightly as though searching for me. I gave my hand without a second's doubt, interlacing my fingers with his. "Just as it's okay for me to feel scared, which I am, a lot. We just – we get through this together, you and I, alright?"

His grip tightened on mine.

Just fractionally, and that's when it happened – a thunderous bang as another car rammed straight at us from out of nowhere. I felt a sharp crack on my neck as my head whipped back, a startling pain shooting through and engulfing me so much so that I couldn't place exactly where it had started.

"Quinn, Quinn – "

All I could hear was Jed's ragged voice calling my name in the terrifying silence as the world around me faded to nothingness.