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Chapter 90: Unraveling the Knots
Lucas's Perspective
Isaac's shoulders tensed the moment his eyes met mine, like he was bracing himself for a blow. He hesitated for half a second before his voice finally broke the quiet between us. "So… what should I do?"
I didn't hesitate. My voice came out steady and flat. "Nothing."
"This history between the Hales and the Argents," I continued, my eyes narrowing slightly, "it has nothing to do with you."
His brow furrowed immediately, knitting together in visible frustration. I could see it bubbling in him before he even opened his mouth. "How can you say that?" His voice was sharper now, awash with emotion. "Malia's my friend… and then there's Allison."
I let out a quiet breath through my nose, keeping my voice calm but firm. Measured. "Isaac, I get that this feels big to you. But this—whatever tension is hanging between those families—that has nothing to do with you. You weren't part of it then. And you don't need to be now."
His face tightened with frustration. "How can you say that like it's simple?"
I stepped toward him, keeping my tone level but pointed. "Six years ago, both families lost people. In one night. And not just one or two—they lost a lot of people. It was brutal. It was messy. And despite everything—the suspicions, the grudges, the blood between them—they didn't just turn and start slaughtering each other."
Isaac's gaze dropped, the tension in his shoulders starting to waver.
"You think they're that reckless?" I continued. "That they'd blow everything up just because you've been exchanging glances and half-smiles with Allison Argent in the hallway between second and third period?"
I let the question hang in the air, sharp and unyielding. Slowly, his defiance cracked. The fight drained out of his posture, leaving only uncertainty. His head shook once, small, reluctant.
"Given the circumstances, it's natural for Malia to feel wary." I pressed on, softening my tone but not my stance. "She doesn't trust the Argents, and maybe she never will. That's her burden, not yours."
I leaned slightly closer, making sure my next words cut through the fog in his mind. "But what's happening between you and Allison? That isn't about politics. It isn't about ancient grudges. It's just you. A boy. And her. A girl. The same thing that's happened to a thousand other teenagers in this town since forever."
I could see him chewing on my words, jaw tight, eyes flicking away from me toward the floor. He didn't argue this time, but the storm inside him was still there—I could feel it. Still, the edge of his conviction dulled, and that was enough.
"Don't let someone else's ghosts complicate something that hasn't even begun," I said at last, my voice dropping lower, more deliberate.
For a moment, silence lingered between us. Then Isaac gave the smallest nod, though his eyes betrayed the doubt still clinging to him. "Malia told me Allison is probably already a hunter—or on her way to being one."
"She's not wrong," I admitted.
Isaac hesitated, then asked the question I knew was burning in him from the moment this started. "So… should I tell her? That I'm a werewolf?"
My gaze sharpened, drilling into him, the answer ready before he finished the sentence. "Isaac—listen to yourself. All you've done is flirt with her, passing smiles and casual conversations between classes, that's it. You didn't even know her two weeks ago."
He parted his lips to object, but I stopped him with just the lift of my brow.
"If you're looking for my advice, it's this," I added dryly, letting just enough sarcasm curl around the words to cut through his tension. "Maybe hold off on sharing life‑altering secrets until—I don't know—the third date at least."
The remark landed exactly as I intended. His shoulders loosened, the built-up tension in his expression finally breaking. A sheepish smile tugged unbidden at the corner of his mouth, small but genuine. He shook his head slightly, finally seeing the humor and the truth in what I'd said.
He was overthinking it. And now, finally, he knew it.
Back at Lockwood Estate
Jenny's Perspective
I stretched out on the rug in Lucas's room, chin propped on my hands, watching Milo. He was lying in the corner on the soft blanket Lucas had picked out, his ears twitching every now and then as if he were listening to sounds only he could hear.
"Come on, Milo," I whispered, holding out my hand like Lucas had done.
Milo's bright blue eyes flicked toward me, cautious at first, then softer. He sniffed the air, pushed himself up with that slow, careful grace, and padded over to me. My heart jumped in excitement as his wet nose brushed against my fingers.
"You're so much braver than Lucas thinks," I said, stroking the side of his head. His fur was thick and rougher, but warm, like he carried the whole forest in him.
He gave a low, almost questioning whine. I giggled. "Oh, I get it—you like Lucas better, huh? Figures."
Milo tilted his head, and for a second I swore he understood me. He looked back toward the door where Lucas had left and then back at me, ears perked.
"Yeah, yeah, I miss him too," I said softly.
I pulled out something I had begged the staff to dig out of storage—an old knotted rope. At first, Milo only stared at it, suspicious. But when I dangled it just enough, his instincts kicked in. He growled playfully and tugged the rope right out of my hands.
"Hey!" I laughed, trying to snatch it back. Milo dodged me with surprising speed for a dog who had been hurt only hours ago. His tail wagged furiously, and for the first time, I saw the shimmer of a smile—yes, dogs could smile, I decided then and there.
We played like that for a while, the room echoing with the sound of my laughter and his happy grunts. Every time he let me win, I scratched behind his ears until his eyes closed in bliss. It wasn't hard to forget that Susan had almost said no.
Eventually, Milo settled down again, curling into his blanket. His breathing grew steady, deeper, almost like a soft snore. I sat beside him, running my fingers through his fur.
"You're safe now, Milo," I whispered, leaning close. "I won't let anything happen to you. And neither will Lucas."
The words surprised me as they left my mouth. I had promised Susan that I'd be responsible, but now, with Milo's warmth pressed against my leg, it wasn't a promise to her anymore. It was to him.