Claws And Cartels Chapter 10

Title: Family Strain

Jerry’s POV

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Crescent High was the same as always—hallways buzzing, lockers slamming, teachers barking about homework nobody cared about. But for me, everything felt different. Too sharp. Too loud. Every laugh scraped my nerves. Every footstep echoed like a drum.

Ever since that night in the alley, my senses hadn’t been the same. It was like someone had peeled a layer off my skin, leaving the raw nerves underneath. I smelled the grease from the cafeteria two floors down, heard the janitor humming in the basement. And in the middle of all that noise, my wolf stirred, restless, hungry.

I slammed my locker shut harder than I meant to. Heads turned. Whispers followed. That’s the weird Levin kid. Don’t get too close, he might snap.

They weren’t wrong.

Darren chose that exact moment to show up, swaggering down the hallway with two of his friends. He always looked like he’d been waiting all day just for me.

“Look who’s finally brave enough to show his face,” Darren sneered. “Thought you’d crawl into your shell after what happened the other day.”

My jaw clenched. My claws itched beneath my skin, threatening to tear through.

Then Sasha slipped in front of me like she’d been waiting for her cue.

“Back off, Darren,” she said, voice cool but edged. “He’s not in the mood for your mouth.”

He snorted. “What, you his babysitter now?”

“No,” Sasha shot back, eyes narrowing. “I just know you wouldn’t last five seconds if he stooped low to your level and fought.”

Something flickered across Darren’s face—fear he didn’t want anyone to see. He spat on the floor and walked off, muttering curses. His friends followed, trying to laugh it off, but the sound rang hollow.

I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” Sasha said, softer now. Her eyes lingered on me, searching. “You’re different, Jerry. I don’t mean bad different. Just… different. People like Darren can smell it, even if they don’t understand it.”

For a second, I thought she meant werewolf different. My chest tightened. But then she leaned in and whispered, Why do you always let him run over you like that? Do you even know who you are?

Because your cute face would always come to save me, I answered, and we burst into laughter. Loud and carefree, I was beginning to forget that people were staring.

But why do you always come to my rescue? How are you always showing up at the right time?

“’Cause we find monsters—we don’t run from them,” she said, fixing her eyes on mine. Staring long and soft.

Staring into Sasha’s eyes felt like a hug. It was warm and sent blood rushing through my veins.

The words hung between us like smoke. “Sasha—the rise of a monster hunter.” I said in a dramatic tone, waving my hand in the air like a cinema opening, and we burst into laughter.

“Good morning, class.” The teacher was already standing in front. The lecture was so long and boring, it felt like a prison. My wolf started to sting behind my head. It didn’t like the boredom.

Griiiing—the bell rang, scattering us in different directions.

By lunch, the wolf inside me was clawing harder. The cafeteria’s noise was unbearable—chairs screeching, trays clattering, kids shouting over each other. I sat at the edge, staring at the table, trying to breathe through it. My claws itched again, this time sharper.

Vgále me éxō. (Let me out.)

The voice echoed in my head, low and commanding. I froze, fingers digging into my palms.

Vgále me éxō, kai tha tous deíxo ti eímaste. (Let me out, and I’ll show them what we are.)

My heart pounded. I shoved the tray away and stood up so fast the bench screeched. All eyes turned on me. Sasha frowned at me from across the room, but I bolted before she could follow.

I went straight for my locker, grabbed my pods, and slid them on. The voices quieted down.

That was close. Time to go home.

Sasha came rushing. “Jerry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a minor health issue,” I lied.

She walked me to the car as usual and we waved goodbye—wishing that moment didn’t come to an end.

As we drove into the mansion, an aura of sadness enveloped me. I had the family I’d always longed for, but it didn’t feel like it. This was not what I imagined family would look like.

I passed the dining room and caught voices—my parents were at it again.

“He’s not ready,” Mom said sharply. “You’re pushing him too far, the same way you push everyone in your life away. He’s not your soldier, Levin. He’s just a kid.”

“He doesn’t have time to be a child,” my father’s voice rumbled back. Calm, but cold. “Damon’s men won’t wait. The curse won’t wait.”

“He doesn’t need a trainer, he needs a father. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“My problem with you is you think every problem can be solved by running away. I mean, that’s what got us here in the first place. Once life gets hard, I just pack my things and leave, yeah? This is war, Debby. And it’s better to be a soldier on a farm than a farmer at war.”

Their voices blurred after that, but the words were enough. I climbed the stairs, throat tight.

Brad found me later, leaning against the railing like he’d been waiting. “Rough night?”

I shrugged. “What gave it away?”

He smirked, then sobered. “Don’t fight what’s inside you, Jerry. What you resist owns you. What you face—you own.”

I stared at him. “And what if what’s inside me is a monster?”

Brad’s gaze didn’t flinch. “Then make the monster yours. Be the master.”

“How?”

“You’re not asking me to teach you, are you?”

I stood there with a straight face that said, You have to teach me.

“Right, I get it, but you have to be ready. I’m not going easy on you.”

He studied me for a long moment, then his tone softened. “But I can tell that’s not the reason you’re standing here like someone who has lost everything.”

I swallowed hard. “I just didn’t imagine it being like this. I always thought having a dad was going to be… fun.”

Brad placed his hand on my shoulder, tapping me several times as he spoke. “Sometimes what we desire is right in front of us. We just need to reach out a little more.”

The words fell on me like cold water. I needed time to digest. “Goodnight, Uncle Brad.”

He nodded curtly. “Good night,” he replied with a deep but calm voice.

That night, the forest was dark. Moonlight dripping between branches. And him.

The wolf.

Massive, shadow-black, eyes burning red like embers. His claws sank into the earth with every step. He didn’t growl. Didn’t snarl. He just looked at me, and I felt smaller than I’d ever been.

Vasilias Lykaon. (King Lykaon.)

The words slammed into me, and the wolf roared. Only it wasn’t just the wolf—my lungs burned, my chest shook, and the roar came out through me, echoing his fury as if my body was his.

I woke up screaming, gasping between breaths, sweat soaking my sheets, heart slamming like it wanted out of my chest.

And for the first time, I realized—I wasn’t just carrying the wolf. It had access to my mind too.