BrightBeing in Sophia’s house with her family felt strange after everything that had happened between us. We both pretended nothing was wrong, just to avoid fighting in front of them. But we knew things weren’t right. The situation was anything but comforting. Not that night. That night felt like being trapped inside a cage. I felt cornered, squeezed between my instincts and the desire to please Sophia. It suffocated me.I sat at the table for dinner beside her, silent. She feigned calm. She answered her family’s questions politely, but I could see the tension in her every move. We hadn’t been the same since the argument. Since she had learned the truth about my thoughts, something had broken between us. She didn’t say it out loud, but I could feel it in every distant gesture, in every shortened word she spoke.I told myself I didn’t care. Or at least, I tried to. Because what really mattered was that my instincts screamed one thing: Dante was behind all of this. The thought wouldn’t
SophiaMy parents’ house had always been a refuge, a place where the world seemed to fall silent. A safe place, like a fortress. But that night, everything was uncomfortable. It felt like the wolf’s mouth. As dinner unfolded with tense conversations and forced smiles, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen. It wasn’t just what I had overheard between Bright and my father, nor the words that had torn at me when they accused Dante. It was a deeper premonition, something pressing against my chest, warning me that the calm was nothing more than a mirage before the storm.Mom and Dad tried to keep the evening light, asking about everyday things: James’s work, my sister-in-law’s health, the home renovations they were planning. I pretended to be interested, nodded, and smiled, but my mind was trapped in a tangled mess of thoughts circling around Dante, Sabrina, Bright, and the invisible threat that had been haunting us for weeks.Bright sat beside me, his eyes fixed
BrightThe silence in the living room stretched after Sophia went upstairs. I could hear the echo of her footsteps, each step marking the distance opening between us. I didn’t go after her. Not because I didn’t want to, but because something inside me told me that if I did at that moment, it would all end in a greater disaster. I was angry, furious. But not only with her, also with myself.I clenched my fists tightly. The wood creaked beneath my boots as I paced back and forth in front of the window. Her voice kept ringing in my head: “He would never hurt me, never.” That never cut through me like a knife. Did she really trust Dante that much? More than she trusted me?The rage burned in my chest. Not because I wanted to control her thoughts, but because it hurt to see her defend another man with such passion, with such blind faith. I —the one who had given everything for her, who had loved her even in my darkest moments— was reduced to being the one who doubted, the one consumed by d
Sophia The silence in my parents’ room was so thick it felt like it swallowed even my thoughts. I had sat back down on the bed, pretending to be interested in the fabrics my mother was showing me, but my mind was somewhere else, on that conversation I had overheard, hidden behind the wall. Bright and Dad. Their voices kept replaying in my head, pounding like hammers: Dante… It was Dan… jealousy… Stefan. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t accept that Bright thought that about Dante, that he would put him on the same level as the hunters, or as some nameless murderer. Dante, the one who was there when I felt broken, when I had no one else to hold me up. Rage burned inside me, mixed with a pain I didn’t know how to contain. Mom was speaking, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I moved my lips to fake a smile, nodded whenever I thought I should, but inside I was boiling. When I finally escaped the room, my heart was racing at a frantic pace. I went down the stairs barely feeling the step
BrightWe were standing in front of Sophia’s parents’ house.I knew why they had invited us. They hadn’t said it outright, but it was obvious: they wanted to protect her, to bring her back to a place they considered safe, surrounded by family. And I couldn’t blame them. After the attack, anyone would want their daughter under their roof, watched over. Yet inside me there was an almost instinctive rejection. I couldn’t allow her to go back to depending on others. It had to be me who protected her.Her mother took her upstairs with some trivial excuse about fabrics and curtains. I stayed downstairs with her father. I knew this moment would come.We sat in the living room, a couple of glasses on the table, the clock ticking with an unbearable rhythm. Her father watched me calmly, as if weighing every move, every gesture.“You’re worried,” he finally said, with that deep voice that always commanded respect.“I am,” I replied bluntly. “We can’t pretend what happened at the house was an iso
SophiaMom and Dad had invited Bright and me over for dinner. In fact, the whole pack would be there for a delicious meal, but in the guest hall. Bright’s parents, my brother and his wife, and my parents would have a private dinner in the dining room. They wanted to talk to us. Mom and Dad were worried about what had happened a few days ago at home, and they would probably suggest that we move back into their house. James was still living there with his wife, so now that things with Dad had improved a little, it was likely they wanted us to stay here again.The air in my parents’ house had always carried a different weight. The same scent of old wood, freshly brewed coffee, the flowers my mother placed in the vases every morning. But this time, when I stepped through the door with Bright, I felt that air was heavier, thick with a silence that had no way of being relieved.My mother welcomed me with a warm hug and immediately pulled me upstairs, saying she had to show me something in t