Chapter 13

I woke up with John Chase gently shaking me. When I opened my eyes, I realized he was tense. I looked around, searching for some sign that morning had already come, but in that windowless room, it was difficult to tell.

“Is it time to leave?” I asked him, but he was already on his feet, staring at the door.

He pressed a finger to his lips, giving me a clear signal to be silent. Then he slowly walked toward the door, narrowed his eyes, and suddenly someone burst through it.

John Chase was thrown across the room and slammed into the wall. When I looked at the figure standing in the doorway, responsible for what had just happened, I screamed.

My entire being screamed, and I couldn't believe my own eyes.

A gigantic creature stood in the doorway, exactly as the legends described them: enormous red eyes, massive fangs capable of tearing through anything, and claws sharper than swords. It was tall and muscular, despite its body being covered in fur and having an entirely animalistic appearance. It stood upright, exactly like a human being, and when it looked at me, I saw complete awareness in its eyes—or perhaps I only imagined it because I was paralyzed with horror.

It was a werewolf.

Even though John had been thrown with such violence and had possibly broken several bones, he got back to his feet. The violent energy radiating from the two of them almost suffocated me.

John charged at the werewolf, which bared its claws. The two collided and crashed to the floor, becoming tangled in a bloody struggle.

I managed to break free from my initial shock and got to my feet, running desperately down the hallway. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. I gasped for air as I rushed down the stairs, and when I reached the hall where the guards should have been, I dropped to my knees, doubled over, and vomited onto the floor.

The scene before me was pure horror.

There were no guards left, only pieces of them, all torn apart in a sea of blood.

I forced my legs to move and ran toward the exit. Those guards hadn't stood the slightest chance against that bloodthirsty werewolf.

Then I thought of John, fighting it alone in the room.

He must have been being torn apart by now, and I would be next if I stayed there like a fool.

I ran desperately toward the exit. It was still night, and it was freezing cold. I ran toward the forest, praying that my legs would be fast enough to reach another village or some house.

But as I ran, I realized how much my panic had worked against me.

There had been horses in the inn's stable. I could have taken one and escaped!

But now it was too late to go back, and I didn't even have the courage to do so.

So I continued running through the darkness and cold of the forest, for hours or minutes—I couldn't tell which. I ran until I tripped over a branch on the ground and fell into the mud.

And to my horror, while I was lying in the mud, I felt hands on my shoulders.

I spun around, screaming at the top of my lungs, only to find myself face-to-face with the man I thought I would never see again.

“John!” I gasped, staring at him in shock.

The Commander was covered in blood, his clothes torn, and deep cuts covered his body. But what shocked me most was the wound running across his face.

Three deep claw marks had torn across his face.

He took a few steps backward and dropped onto the grass, looking utterly exhausted. When he looked at me, he exclaimed once again:

“Get out of that mud!”

Even injured, his authoritative tone hadn't changed.

I got up from the mud and walked toward him. My legs were trembling, and my heart was pounding wildly. I had never seen anyone with a wound like that, and John didn't seem to be feeling the pain he should have been.

“We need to go back. Lydia will be able to take care of you!” I said, my eyes wide with horror at the sight of his face.

Now that I was closer, the wounds looked even more horrifying.

I couldn't understand how he hadn't already passed out from losing so much blood and from the pain that must have been coursing through him.

Then he did the unthinkable.

He looked at me and smiled.

I stared at him in disbelief.

Now he wasn't just smiling. He started laughing.

“These injuries have made you lose your mind,” I concluded.

He stopped laughing and looked at me.

“I'm laughing because you ran away instead of escaping on a horse, Princess.”

I stared at him, stunned.

“I can't believe you're—”

I couldn't finish the sentence because, right before my eyes, those terrible wounds on his face began releasing a strange kind of vapor.

I narrowed my eyes and stepped closer while he remained perfectly still, calmly watching me.

“But what...?”

His wounds were closing.

One by one, they simply healed.

I stood up and backed away from him, my mind spinning, telling me that what I was seeing couldn't possibly be real.

But then the memory of the werewolf I'd only ever heard about in stories meant to frighten children returned to my thoughts.

It had happened.

Those creatures existed.

And if John Chase was standing before me, alive, there could only be one explanation: he had won the battle.

I swallowed hard and then gave him an awkward smile. My heart was beating so hard it hurt.

“Wait here for a moment, my husband. I'll get the horse for you,” I said as gently as possible before turning and walking away.

“Come back, Helena.”

His deep voice made me freeze.

I slowly turned to look at him.

He no longer had a single wound. The only thing revealing that he had been injured was the blood clinging to his skin.

He took a deep breath and slowly walked toward me.

“Remember the answers you wanted?”

I nodded. I remembered.

“As soon as we reach the island, I can tell you. But don't panic. I know you're frightened by what you saw and confused by what you're seeing now, but I don't intend to hurt you. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and he came even closer, close enough to reach out and touch my face.

I shuddered at his touch.

He sighed and let his hand fall.

When John seemed to have lowered his guard, his gaze becoming somewhat distant, I attacked him, driving my knee into his groin.

He cried out in pain, doubling over.

I didn't wait to see him recover. Without looking back, I ran toward the inn, toward the horses.