"Are Nik's parents really like us?" I asked.
"No," Denis replied simply. "They're just people."
"People," my father cut in, his voice edged with contempt, "who only wanted to protect their child. Even if that child is a vile little bloodsucker."
"Don't call him that," I blurted before I could stop myself.
The words had escaped unbidden, betraying me. Shame prickled hot against my skin. How could I still defend Nik, after everything? After the lies, the manipulation, the way he'd almost destroyed us? And yet—buried beneath the anger, some stubborn spark of compassion refused to die. I loathed myself for it. Was it even real? Or just another echo of his influence, a lingering seed he had planted in me? The thought gnawed at me, forcing me to doubt every flicker of feeling, every thought that dared surface.
The car lurched to a stop, jolting me from my thoughts. Kostya turned, his eyes hard as frozen steel.
"If Nikita had succeeded that night," he said coldly, "we wouldn't be sitting here talking. Low blood is still low blood."
A shiver ran through me—not only from his words, but from what they left unsaid. Would I have died? Or worse… survived, changed into something he would never accept? The enemy he was sworn to destroy. I couldn't bring myself to ask.
Without another word, Kostya opened the door and stepped into the snow, his posture making it clear: the subject was closed.
"He's hard on you," Denis whispered.
"Dad hasn't been himself lately."
"Never happened before?"
I hesitated, thinking back over the past months. Kostya had always been strict, protective, but not like this. Now his nerves were strung taut, every word sharp, every look a warning—as if sheer force could make me surrender to the destiny he believed awaited me.
"I wasn't one of you before," I murmured.
"That's not true. Your turning was only a matter of time, like with most of us."
"Not everyone wakes the wolf," I shot back.
Denis snorted. "Do you even know whose blood runs in you?"
"Well, yeah." I tilted my head toward Kostya, who was already pacing by the entrance, phone pressed to his ear. "His."
"That much is obvious. But what about your grandfather?"
"No. Why, does it matter?" I unclipped my seatbelt and leaned toward him, irritation creeping in. "Grandma never mentioned him. Dad neither. Guess he died before I was born."
Denis' expression shifted—something knowing flickered across his face, as though he held a secret and weighed whether I deserved to hear it.
"Knowing your roots matters," he said at last, with deliberate mystery.
I narrowed my eyes. "Then stop playing riddles."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "His name was Svetozar. He was the last alpha of the Kserton pack."
I blinked. Quite a name.
"The last? What do you mean? The pack clearly exists—you, my father, plenty of others around."
"There are wolves," Denis agreed. "But no pack. Everyone keeps to themselves now. No one dares claim the alpha's mantle. Not here, not in Kserton."
"What, are werewolves allergic to responsibility?"
"Don't forget," he said slyly, "you're one of us too."
His words hit like ice water. Accepting myself as part of that hidden world still felt impossible. As though the moment I admitted it—even in thought—the wolf inside me would awaken and erase the fragile illusion of my old life.
"I've never changed. Maybe I never will."
Denis' eyes widened, his face contorted in disbelief. "You'd refuse? Just like that? Without even trying?"
I lifted a shoulder. "What's there to try? Running naked through snowdrifts? Not really my idea of fun."
Outside, two broad-shouldered figures approached Kostya. Their voices misted the air, but Denis' words drowned them out.
"Well, not exactly naked," he said with a laugh. "Full-form fur isn't so bad. The way the world shifts when you see through those eyes… it's something else. You're still you, but sharper. Stronger."
"So what—you're saying the wolf just takes over, and you're stuck as a passenger?" My voice was sharper than I intended; the fear behind it bled through.
To my relief, Denis shook his head. He glanced down, a faint smile tugging at his lips as though recalling something vivid and personal.
"No. It doesn't take over. It completes me. I don't hear voices or see things, but… I feel it. Here." He pressed a hand to his chest. "My spirit twines with it whenever I change. Like an ancient guardian—wise, protective. It warns me when danger's near. Reacts before I can. My she-wolf is strong."
"She-wolf?" I echoed, half laughing.
"Of course," Denis said, as though it were obvious. "I'm a guy."
I snorted at the logic. What a rule. If he's male, then his wolf must be female. The whole notion of treating the wolf as a companion—a spirit to respect—was something Kostya had never once told me. To me, the idea sounded closer to a split personality than anything mystical.
Denis frowned at my reaction. "Wait… you seriously don't know?"
"Know what?"
He looked at me expectantly, almost mischievously, as if waiting for me to laugh and admit I was teasing.
"God, Denis, I'm serious! Just explain."
"Our beast side—it's like a guardian spirit. A protector. Sometimes male, sometimes female, depending on what bloodline you come from. Usually the opposite gender. My father says it's because we were born of magic. When witches first made us, they pulled the wild part of the human soul free and gave it shape. That part—instinct, memory, strength—it lives beside us, waiting. My father says his wolf is like a mother. Mine too. But for girls… it's usually a father's spirit instead."
"Great," I muttered. "One overprotective father is already plenty. I don't need a ghostly second one babysitting me."
Denis tilted his head. "How do you know your spirit agrees with you?"
"Because I don't feel anything. No presence, no guardian. And if I had a sixth sense worth its salt, it would've shattered Nick's illusions in a heartbeat." Bitterness edged my voice before I could stop it. "Instead, I walked right into his trap."
Denis leaned back, his smile fading. "Not everyone feels it the same way. Maybe in your family it's different. Your father would know best."
"Apparently not. He's never said a word about this. Maybe he's just waiting to see if I figure it out on my own."