"Mom?" Iván tilted his head, noticing the death stare she was giving him.
"Iván, honey," she said sweetly—too sweetly. The kind of sweet laced with murder.
"Give me that box."
"What? No! These figures are my greatest treasures!"
"I'm not asking," she replied, waving her hand expectantly.
With a defeated sigh, he slid the box over.
She opened the box, took one look inside, and let out a gasp.
Picking up one of the figures—a cat girl in an extremely revealing outfit—she narrowed her eyes.
"I remember this one," she muttered. "He told me he threw it away."
She paused, shaking her head with a dry laugh.
"Your father is lucky he's missing… otherwise, I'd kill him."
Then her expression softened, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"This… exactly the kind of thing he would do," she said with a wistful sigh.
She closed the box gently.
"Alright, fine. You can keep them. But for heaven's sake, don't put them on display if you ever bring a girl over. She'll think you're into… some very strange things."
"What happened to 'being myself'?" Iván asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You make a fair point," his mother admitted. "Still, you're not displaying those. They're not exactly appropriate."
She folded her arms. "Save it for when you have your own place."
"Noted," he said, grabbing the box and quickly stashing it away.
"So, Mom… why did you call out? What's going on?" Iván asked, eyeing her carefully.
"Do you want dinner? I'll make one of your favorites," she said, avoiding his gaze.
"Mom…" he stepped closer, his voice firm but gentle. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. Just tell me."
She paused, slowly turning toward him. For a moment, she debated whether to say it now—but deep down, she knew she couldn't keep it from him much longer.
With a heavy sigh, she finally said,
"I suppose now's as good a time as any."
Her tone shifted. "Iván, I need you to listen carefully."
"Mom? What is it?" he said, brows furrowing. "The way you're talking… it sounds like something terrible happened."
"Honey… there's something about our—no, your—family that I haven't told you," she said gently. "And… it has to do with that necklace around your neck."
Iván glanced down at the crescent moon pendant. "What is it?"
She took a deep breath. "For starters, your last name isn't really Vasilios."
"Wait—what? It's not?"
"No," she said quietly. "It was changed… to protect you. To hide from those who would seek to harm your kind."
"My kind? Mom, what are you saying?" Iván asked, confusion creeping into his voice.
"You are Iván—Iván Adrastus," she said slowly, carefully. "You come from a powerful bloodline of werewolves."
Iván's mouth fell open. "What…?"
His heart pounded. He didn't want to believe it—didn't want to believe she was saying something so insane.
But deep down… something in him knew she wasn't lying.
"That necklace represents more than just a family heirloom," his mother said firmly. "It once belonged to the very first werewolf to ever walk this earth. It's an object many would kill to possess."
"Mom… no. You're lying, right? You're messing with me," Iván stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Son, listen to me. I'm not lying," she said, her voice softening. "I truly believed you didn't carry the wolf gene. I was a fool to think that. But Alan… he confirmed it."
"Alan?!"
Something in Iván snapped. A surge of rage and confusion overtook him. His hand slammed into the table—wood cracked and splintered beneath his fingers. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at his trembling hand.
"Mom…" Iván whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm a monster."
"No!" Daniela rushed to his side, cupping his face in her hands. She looked straight into his eyes, firm and unwavering.
"You are not a monster, Iván. You're a child of the moon—do you understand me?"
"Mom… does that mean you're…?"
She shook her head gently.
"No. I'm human. But your father… he was very much a werewolf."
Iván threw his arms around her, holding her tightly, his fear raw and unspoken.
"I'm scared, Mom."
She stroked his hair, whispering softly.
"I know, sweetheart. I know it's hard. But don't worry—someone will be there to help you through your first time. You won't go through this alone."
"My first time?" Iván looked up at his mom, eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.
"Yes, honey. I may not know everything, but I'm sure Derek can explain it better than I ever could."
"Who's Derek?" He asked.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"Oh—right. That's actually why I called in early," Daniela said, quickly making her way to the door.
She opened it to reveal a man in a leather jacket standing confidently on the porch.
"You must be Daniela," the man said.
"Yes, thank you for coming," she replied with a polite smile.
"It's my pleasure. Anything for Xavier's son," Derek said, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Iván.
"May I come in?" Derek asked.
"Of course, come in." She Replied.
She stepped aside, and Derek entered the home. He turned to Iván.
"Iván, this is Derek Hale. He's going to guide you and teach you everything you need to know."
Iván watched as Derek approached him. "So, I hear you're showing signs of your transformation — a rite of passage that only born wolves experience."
Overwhelmed by the flood of information and still feeling scared, Iván tried his best to absorb everything he could.
Derek crouched down and turned toward Iván's mother. "You just told him, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"He's calm, but his heart's racing," Derek said, then glanced back at Iván and noticed the necklace. "Ah… that's what's keeping him together."
"What? Why?" Iván asked.
"That necklace — it's keeping you calm. With how your heart's reacting, it's a good thing your mom gave it to you."
"And what would happen if I didn't have it on?" Iván asked.
"Don't worry about that," Derek replied. "Just be glad you don't."