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Chapter 51
Chapter 51
That day, we ran for what felt like forever, only to be stopped by the tunnel’s edge.
The rain poured relentlessly, a cold sheet of water soaking us to the bone. Raindrops danced on the rough ground, leaping like fleeting stars, each one vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Ethan, still just a boy then, his frail shoulders barely able to carry his own weight, stood between me and danger. Bare–handed, with no weapon to defend himself, he shielded me. His arms spread wide, his back bent protectively, as if daring the world to try and hurt me.
“Stay behind me, Claire,” he had said, his voice steady despite the fear I knew he must have felt. His dark eyes burned with defiance, locking onto the shadows that stalked us.
I huddled behind him, trembling. My hands clenched the fabric of his shirt, desperate to hold on to him, as if letting go would mean losing him forever. “Ethan, don’t–please don’t get hurt because of me…”
He turned his head slightly, just enough for me to see his blood–smeared face, rainwater washing streaks of crimson down his jaw. “You can rely on me,” he said softly, the words barely audible over the storm.
Before I could respond, chaos erupted. A sharp cry and a flash of claws rang through the air as Ethan lunged forward. The sound of flesh hitting flesh and muffled grunts filled the air. Despite his youth, despite his trembling hands, Ethan didn’t falter. He fought like his life–and mine–depended on it.
At some point, he fell back, crumpling onto the muddy ground. His head was bleeding, the crimson liquid mingling with rain and streaking down his face.
My heart stopped and began shuddering in fear.
“Ethan!” I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him. I tried to cradle his head, but he pushed my hands away weakly, his gaze unfocused.
“Claire…” His voice was hoarse, yet unyielding. “I’m not… letting them hurt you. You can
Chapter 51
rely on me…”
Even as he lost consciousness, he kept whispering those words, over and over. “You can rely
on me…”
I was terrified–more terrified than I’d ever been, even more than when I was thrown into a beast’s cage. The thought of losing him was unbearable. I clung to him, burying my face against his chest, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the petrichor around us.
Time blurred, the storm a haze of gray and black. At some point, silence fell, broken only by the distant patter of rain easing to a drizzle. It wasn’t until a patrolling Gamma found us that we were discovered.
The Gamma’s expression was grim as he assessed Ethan’s limp form. “Stay back,” he told me as he and another pulled Ethan from my grasp. But I wouldn’t let go, my fingers locked. around his shirt, my body trembling. It took all their strength to separate us.
That was the moment they carried him away, and I was left behind, cold, soaked, and hollow.
Now, years later, at three in the morning, I jolted awake from the memory, my face streaked with tears. My heart pounded in my chest, the echo of Ethan’s words-“You can rely on me“-reverberating in my mind.
Unable to bear the suffocating weight of these emotions, I got up and headed to visit Kai and Zoe.
Zoe was still sound asleep, her peaceful expression a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. Kai, however, was awake, sitting by her bedside with his face pale and shadowed by worry.
His eyes lifted when I entered the room. “What do we do about this case?” He asked, his voice low and strained.
I shook my head. “I’m not giving up, Kai. I’m going to uproot them all.”
He smiled, faintly, though there was a weariness in his gaze. “How? You’re relentless, Claire, but even you can’t do this alone.”
“I’ll figure it out,” I replied firmly. “You focus on recovering first. That’s what y
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you right now.”
Kai lowered his head, his fingers curling against the blanket. After a moment, he spoke, his tone hesitant. “Does having Ethan back mean you don’t need me anymore?”
The question caught me off guard, and I froze, staring at him. “What are you talking about,
Kai?”
He met my gaze, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Who wouldn’t be moved by the way he saved you?”
“You’re a guy…” I muttered, unsure how to respond. “You’re moved too?”
Kai shook his head, chuckling softly. “It’s not like that. It’s more… shock or awe. That kind of thing.”
I sighed, sitting beside him. “Kai, there’s more to this world than love and hate. Right now, we have bigger things to focus on.”
He nodded slowly, though his expression didn’t change. “I heard Ethan hasn’t gone to the Werewolf Security Alliance yet. People are saying he has… other missions.”
I didn’t respond immediately and just stood there in silence for a bit instead. “Rest, Kai. We’ll deal with everything later.”
As I left, my thoughts drifted to Ethan. He was at the hospital, just a few blocks away. Besides the victims, the perpetrators, including Carl–the mastermind–were also being treated in Moonhill.
Moonhill’s atmosphere was heavy yet serene, a quiet solemnity that seemed to protect life in all its fragility and resilience, regardless of purity or sin.
Two Gammas stood guard outside Carl’s room, their expressions impassive. Not far from them, Ethan stood with two other Gammas, their conversation low but intense.
I couldn’t avoid him.
Ethan turned as I approached, his gaze softening. “Claire,” he said gently, “can I take you
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Chapter 51
home?”
I hesitated, the memory of my dream tightening around my heart. He seemed to sense it but didn’t press.
“If you need anything,” he added, “come to me. I’m not asking for forgiveness, but… give me the chance to make it right.”
forced a bitter smile and nodded.
Once home, I scrubbed myself clean, trying to wash away not just the grime of the day but the lingering ache of old wounds. I stepped out of the bathroom to the window.
The sky was dark, the deep black of night just before dawn, silent and still. The streetlights below flickered intermittently, some blinking, others lifeless.
My eyes drifted to the narrow alley cluttered with parked cars. At the corner stood a Maybach, sleek and imposing, its presence out of place. My breath hitched as I recognized the license plate–and the silhouette of the driver.
He hadn’t left.
I pressed my fingers to the cool glass, leaving a faint fingerprint. My heart raced as I stared at the car below.
“He’s really…,” I signed, though my gaze remained locked on the Maybach.
And on him.
