Chapter 6

"What did this?" I ask, my voice reduced to a shaking whisper.

"Lily, please. Just go."

"Not until you tell me the truth." I turn to face him, clutching the ruined shirt, my voice rising with each word. "And don’t lie to me."

Before he can respond, a low rumble fills the room, a growl that doesn't sound human, coming from his chest.

"What was that?" I ask, taking an involuntary step back. "Do you have a speaker hidden somewhere?"

"No speaker." His voice sounds strained, almost pained. "It's me."

I stare at him, heart racing. "That's not possible."

He raises his head, and I gasp. His eyes are glowing now, the irises a burnished gold that illuminates the dimming room.

"What the hell?" I stumble back, my hip hitting the dresser. "How are you doing that?"

"I told you. You wouldn't believe me." The growl underlies his words now, making them vibrate with that inhuman quality.

"What... what are you?" I repeat, fear and fascination warring inside me.

Instead of answering, he holds up his hand. As I watch, his nails lengthen, thickening and curving into vicious points.

I press a hand to my mouth, unable to process what I'm seeing. "This isn't real. This can't be real."

"It's real." His voice drops lower, rougher. "I'm real."

"What's happening to you?"

He takes a deep breath, fighting for control. The claws recede slowly, his eyes dimming back to their normal color.

"I'm not like other people, Lily. I'm... different."

"What are you saying?" But I already know. Even as my rational mind rejects it, something deeper recognizes the truth.

"I'm a werewolf." He says it simply, without drama.

I blink. Then I burst into laughter. "Right. And I'm the tooth fairy."

"I'm serious, Lily."

"Come on, Luca. If you don't want to tell me…”

"You just saw my eyes," he says quietly. "You just saw my claws. What more proof do you need?"

"Those could be special effects. Contacts. Fake nails." Even as I say it, I know I'm grasping at straws. I saw those claws grow from his normal fingertips.

I stare at him, trying to reconcile the boy I've known most of my life with this... this creature he claims to be.

"Prove it," I challenge, crossing my arms. "If you're a werewolf, prove it. All of it "

He hesitates. "It's not that simple. I can't just shift on command."

"Convenient."

"The full moon is in two days. I'll shift then whether I want to or not. But partial shifts..." He shakes his head. "They're hard to control. And dangerous too."

"So you expect me to just take your word for it? That you are secretly a supernatural creature?"

His jaw tightens. "I didn't tell you to make you believe me. I told you because you asked."

"Show me something," I insist. "Anything. Claws, fangs, glowing eyes…something from those cheesy werewolf movies."

"This isn't a movie, Lily. It's not pretty or controlled. When I shift, parts of me... change. I don't always remember what happens."

"Then how do you know you hurt those guys?"

"Because I tasted their blood. Because I remember the satisfaction of it."

I take an involuntary step back, my spine pressing against the wall. He notices, pain flashing across his features.

"See? This is why I didn't tell you." He turns away. "You should go."

"No." The word surprises both of us. "Show me."

"Lily—"

"Show me," I repeat, firmer this time. "I want to see."

He studies me, conflict evident in his expression. "If I do this," he says slowly, "you can't scream. You can't run. The wolf... it responds to fear."

A tremor of uncertainty runs through me, but I nod. "I won't."

He takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes. Nothing happens for several seconds, and I'm about to call his bluff when his body suddenly tenses, muscles cording beneath his skin.

A low growl rumbles from his chest which is definitely not human, not an imitation, but something primal that raises the hair on my arms. His hands curl into fists, tendons standing out along his forearms.

When his eyes open, they're not his eyes anymore. The amber has transformed to a burning gold that seems to glow from within, pupils contracted to pinpoints.

"Luca?" My voice comes out smaller than I intended.

He doesn't answer. His lips pull back in a snarl, revealing teeth that sharpen as I watch, his canines elongating into fangs that no human mouth should contain.

I press myself against the wall, heart racing as his fingers extend, nails thickening and curving into the same vicious claws I'd seen before, but longer now.

"Oh my god," I whisper, unable to look away. "It's real. You're really—"

I don't finish the sentence because he moves, faster than should be possible, crossing the room in a flash until he's right in front of me, one clawed hand braced on the wall beside my head.

He leans in, nose trailing along my jawline, inhaling deeply. The growl that vibrates from his chest is different now….lower, hungrier. His mouth opens against my neck, teeth scraping lightly over my pulse point.

Terror and fear race through me, leaving me paralyzed.

"Luca," I whisper, not daring to move. "Luca, stop."

For a terrifying moment, I think he won't. His teeth press harder, the point of a fang dimpling my skin without breaking it. His free hand grips my waist, claws pricking through my shirt. I feel the sharp pinpoints against my skin and a whimper escapes me.

The sound seems to wake something in him and he wrenches

Then, with a sound like tearing fabric, he wrenches himself away, stumbling backwards until he hits the opposite wall. His chest heaves with labored breaths, eyes still that impossible gold, but awareness returning to them.

"Get out," he snarls, voice distorted around his fangs. "Now. Before I—"

He doesn't finish the sentence, instead sliding down the wall, hands gripping his head as if in pain.

"GET OUT!" he roars, the sound so inhuman it jolts me into action.

I don't wait. My heart is thundering in my ears as I stumble back, out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me. I lean against it, legs trembling, pulse racing.

On the other side, I hear a thud, then another growl that fades into something like a whimper.

I press a shaking hand to my neck where his teeth had been, half-expecting to find blood. There's nothing but the ghost of his touch and the warmth of his breath.

Werewolf. Luca Archer is a werewolf.

And he almost bit me.

And the most disturbing part of all? For one wild, insane moment before fear took over—I almost wanted him to.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​