I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.
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The sky stretched endlessly above Beacon Hills, shrouded in a dense, unbroken blanket of gray clouds. That kind of sky had a way of muting the world, muffling the sharper edges of sound and motion, making everything seem softer, or perhaps more distant. It was as if the entire town had taken a breath and was holding it, waiting for something that might never come. I felt strangely grateful for the overcast gloom – the weather matched the complicated, unsettled mess of my thoughts far better than sunshine ever could.
I left the hospital and walked aimlessly for a few blocks.
Eventually, after what felt like hours but was probably only a handful of minutes, I stumbled across a little café sandwiched between a cheerful florist and a bookstore that looked like it hadn't updated its window displays since the last decade. The café was small and old-fashioned, exactly the kind of place most people overlooked in favor of bigger, flashier options. That was what I needed: Quaint. Empty. Perfect.
I stepped in, letting the warmth and smell of espresso pull me back from the chaos of the supernatural world and consequences. The waitress gave me a polite smile—tired but kind—and I ordered a black coffee and enough snacks to look like I was either starving or emotionally unstable.
With my tray in hand, I found a booth tucked in the farthest corner, pressed up against a window. I slid into the seat and let myself sink into the worn cushions, grateful for the solitude. The world outside seemed perfectly ordinary – shops, an old man walking his dog, a mother hurrying her child along the sidewalk. People walked by without glancing in, their faces full of normalcy—laughter, errands, routines.
I took out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found her name.
She picked up before the first ring finished. "Lucas," she said, voice warm and familiar, like a blanket you forgot you missed.
"How are you settling back into your cabin?" I asked.
She chuckled softly. "The plants missed me. And I missed them and the garden. It was fun being out in the world for a while, but… this is where I belong."
I smiled. "Emily, what you call a garden, normal people call a forest."
She snorted. "Jealousy doesn't suit you."
That earned a chuckle from me, short but genuine. Then I stared down at my untouched coffee, and the weight I'd been ignoring finally spoke up inside my chest.
"I don't know what I'm doing here, Emily."
There was a pause on her end. "What happened?"
I stared out the window, watching a dog bark at a passing car.
"I turned someone. He is just a kid. He was dying, and I didn't think—I just acted. I told him he's part of my pack now but… I don't even know what that means. I've never had a pack."
There was a pause. A long, thoughtful silence that stretched comfortably between us. The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled, because it meant she was listening. Really listening.
"You always had a pack, Lucas," she said gently. "Me. Richard. We've always been your pack."
"And I know you. If you thought that was the right thing to do, then I trust your judgment completely."
I swallowed hard, the warmth in her words cutting deeper than anything cold ever could.
"You will do right by that kid," she continued. "You already did. You saved his life. The rest… the rest you figure out like everyone else. One step at a time."
I leaned back against the cushion, the tension in my shoulders easing just enough to notice how tight they'd been.
"I hope you're right," I muttered.
"I know I'm right," she said with that same old certainty that always felt like home. "But promise me something."
"Take care of yourself, too. The world's not just your responsibility to carry. Okay?"
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
The call ended with a quiet click, and I stayed there, phone in hand, just staring at the screen. I finally set it down and reached for my coffee. It had cooled a little, but it was still good. Bitter. Grounding.
I looked at the plate of snacks and, for the first time in what felt like hours, I picked one up and took a bite.
The road ahead was tangled, uncertain, and full of choices I wasn't sure I'd be ready for.
But for now, I was here.
Breathing. Eating. Living.
And sometimes, that had to be enough.