Chapter 5: Terror and Betrayal

Chase’s P.O.V

I had never run so fast in my life.

My boots thundered against the cobblestone drive as I stormed past the wrought-iron gates of the estate—the same ones I once thought looked regal and beautiful, like the opening to some grand fairy tale. But there was no magic here. Only ghosts. And secrets. And the echo of my own heartbeat threatening to tear through my chest as I slammed my shoulder into the front door with enough force to make the hinges scream in protest.

“Mom!” I bellowed, my voice raw, cracking from the cold and the panic that had clawed its way up my throat.

The door flew open under the pressure, crashing against the wall and making one of those damned ancient vases tremble dangerously on a nearby table. That vase alone probably cost more than everything I’d ever owned. I didn’t care if it shattered into a million pieces. The house smelled the same—like lavender and furniture polish—but the air felt wrong. Heavy.

The kind of stillness you feel in a crypt. The chandeliers above me gleamed like dead stars, and the old mahogany furniture, once majestic, now looked like a prison carved from wood. The walls that once intrigued me with their age-old paintings and quiet elegance now closed in around me like a coffin.

A few servants turned at the sound of my voice, their faces pale and eyes wide with fear—or was it something else? Guilt? Recognition?

I didn’t stop to ask.

“Where is she?” I growled at the nearest maid, a middle-aged woman with trembling hands and a look that said she’d rather be anywhere else but here. “Where the hell is my mother?”

“I-I don’t know, sir,” she stammered, but I could see the lie flickering behind her eyes like candlelight.

I didn’t wait. I didn’t trust any of them. Not after what I saw.

I took the stairs two at a time, nearly slipping once as I turned the landing. The long hallway stretched before me like the spine of some ancient beast, lined with doors that led to too many secrets. I didn’t care about the creaks beneath my feet or the storm brewing outside that rattled the stained-glass windows. All I cared about was reaching her before it was too late.

I stopped in front of the door. His room. Their room. I didn’t knock. Didn’t even think to.

I threw the door open, breathless and wild-eyed. “Mom!” I screamed, desperate, aching, out of breath. “We have to go! Now! You don’t understand, they’re everywhere, they’re in this house—monsters, all of them—he lied to you, they all did—!”

And then I saw her.

And him.

My stepfather.

The room was dimly lit, the golden hues from the bedside lamp pooling on the covers like molten honey, casting long shadows against the walls. My mother sat at the edge of the bed, her shoulders relaxed, her fingers tangled with his. Landon. He had his lips pressed to her wrist, like he was kissing her with reverence — but it wasn't reverence. Not to me.

My footsteps must’ve startled him, because the moment I entered, he lifted his head sharply — and that’s when I saw it.

Two faint puncture wounds. Fang marks. And the slight trace of blood…

The skin around them was slightly raised and red, like they were still fresh.

"What the hell?!" I barked, surging forward before I could even think.

“Chase—” My mother’s voice was too soft, too calm, like she didn’t see what I saw. Like she didn’t care.

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from him, away from the damn bed, away from whatever freakish trance he’d put her under. “Get away from her, you sick bastard!” I snapped, my voice cracking from the sheer heat in my throat. “What did you do to her?!”

Landon didn’t move. He didn’t even try to come toward us. He just sat there, looking more… disappointed than guilty, which only made my skin crawl more.

“Chase, stop it,” my mother pleaded, tugging gently against my grip, but I wasn’t letting go. “You’re overreacting—”

“Overreacting?! He bit you!” I turned to her, my hands trembling, my heart slamming against my ribs. “I saw it! He bit into your wrist! That’s not normal, Mom! He’s—he’s a monster!” My voice broke toward the end. My throat hurts. My lungs burned. My whole world felt like it was spinning off its axis.

Landon finally stood up, slow and careful like he was approaching a wild animal. “I didn’t hurt her, Chase. I would never hurt her.”

“Don’t say my name like you know me!” I spat, tightening my hold around my mother’s shoulders. “Stay the hell away from us. I swear, if you come any closer, I will kill you.”

That last part slipped out before I even realized what I was saying. My mother gasped, going rigid in my arms. Her eyes filled with something between fear and heartbreak.

“You don’t mean that,” she said in a hush, her fingers brushing against my arm, trying to calm me.

“I do,” I seethed, staring Landon down like he was some goddamn predator that had been hiding in our house all along. “You’ve lost your mind if you don’t see him for what he is. I don’t know what this is—some kind of spell? Is that what it is? Did he put something in you, Mom? Are you even thinking straight?”

That’s when she took a breath — a long, deliberate one — and gently stepped out of my grip. I almost reached to pull her back, afraid he’d pounce again, but the look she gave me froze my limbs.

“There is no spell, Chase.” Her voice was steady now, without hesitation or restrains. “I know exactly what I’m doing. And I love him.”

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. A shrill ringing pierced my ears. “You what?”

“I love him,” she repeated, eyes locked on mine like she was trying to anchor me to some calm place I couldn’t find. “And I know what he is. I’ve known. For a while now.”

My gaze snapped back to Landon. His expression hadn’t changed. Stoic. A quiet sort of guilt swimming in his eyes. But that wasn’t enough.

“You knew?” I choked out, voice rising. “You knew he wasn’t—human? You knew what he was and you still stayed?! You still let him touch you?! You let him feed off you like you’re some—some thing?!”

“I’m not a thing,” she said quietly. “And he doesn’t feed off me. This wasn’t about hunger.”

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, stumbling back a step, my stomach churning. “You’re seriously insane. You’ve lost it, Mom. You’re brainwashed, or—or worse.” I looked at Landon again. “What is this, huh? You and your son, playing house with my mother like she’s your next meal? What the hell did you do to her?!”

“No one did anything to her,” Landon said, his voice low and painfully calm. “She chose this. She knows what I am. And my son has nothing to do with this.”

I was breathing like I’d run a marathon. My hands were shaking. My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

“She’s your wife. My mother. And you’ve bitten her.”

My mother came toward me again, reaching out, her eyes pleading. “Chase, I know you’re scared. I know this is a lot. But I promise you, we are okay. I’m okay. Nothing has changed—”

“Everything has changed!” I exploded, backing away from both of them now, like the air itself had become toxic. “You don’t see it, do you? You’re not just in love, Mom. You’re in danger. And you’re too blind to see it.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but I couldn’t hear it anymore. I couldn’t take the sight of her like this — calm, smiling, content… while wearing bite marks from a monster she claimed to love.

And somehow, that was the part that hurt the most.