"Jesus Christ, you two look terrible," Rowan muttered, his eyes narrowing as he cast a suspicious glance at Iván—just as he had from the very beginning.
His father's voice echoed in his mind: Keep your enemies close… and never trust anyone. Not even your friends.
The only person he truly trusted was CJ. They had both lost their parents to that thing, and now it was up to him to make sure Scott and Iván didn't end up killing anyone.
If it were up to me, he thought, I would've taken them out on the spot.
But CJ had talked him down, insisting they were good people.
Rowan let out a long sigh. I hope you're right.
He glanced at the two of them—Derek in a plain white shirt, and Iván wearing stained blue pants and a wrinkled, button-up shirt marked with dirt and blood.
"Can you tell why you called me here he asked his mood seriously
Derek didn't speak—he wasn't in the right state of mind.
Iván, on the other hand, fidgeted with his fingers before finally speaking. "There was this vampire… and somehow—somehow my necklace spoke to me. In the end, everything was like I was behind a screen, and I think… I think it made me kill it."
Possession? Rowan frowned. Everything his father had ever told him about demons painted them as vile, parasitic things—creatures that latched onto weak humans and cursed objects. But… to possess a supernatural being? That was unheard of. Especially a werewolf. Their bodies were supposed to be shielded by the Moon.
He looked down, troubled by the thought.
If this is true… then maybe killing Iván isn't off the table after all.
"What are you thinking?" Iván asked, eyeing him cautiously.
Rowan exhaled sharply. "Well, if there really is a demon in your necklace, then it's better we let my father pull it out and destroy it. Because trust me—I do not want to find out what kind of demon has the power to possess someone like you."
"And the vampire I killed…" Iván said quietly, still uneasy. The memory clung to him like a shadow.
"The vampire, huh?" Rowan snapped, his voice sharp. "Between you and me, it's a damn good thing you got rid of it. Those things are monsters—they don't belong in this world." He clenched his jaw, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. "Not alongside the rest of us."
He coughed, biting back the rest of what he was going to say, fists tightening at his sides.
"Yeah… I guess," Iván murmured, uncertainty still heavy in his tone.
"And you, Derek," Rowan said, his voice rising with irritation. "Why are you suddenly so quiet? Don't tell me this demon has you scared. Last I checked, the Hales don't run with their tails between their legs."
Derek slowly turned toward him, eyes cold. He stood, twisting his body, and with a sudden roar, drove his fist through one of the wooden pillars. The structure cracked and splintered, dust billowing into the air around them.
"You want to know?" he growled, his voice low and shaking with rage. "I was responsible for my family's death."
His eyes burned bright blue.
"All I want… is to rip out her damn throat."
(Iván POV)
Iván listened to Rowan's words carefully, his mind reeling from Derek's outburst.
A demon… He looked down at the Moon pendant hanging around his neck. It didn't feel like something evil. In fact, thinking back, it felt more like it was helping him.
And then there were those words… Azrael, and Master.
It was almost like it was calling him Azrael.
But who is Azrael?
Before he could think any further, his phone buzzed. A text from his mother.
"We're home safe."
He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
A lot had happened.
First, discovering he was a werewolf. Then, being thrown headfirst into the supernatural world—a world full of secrets, dangers, and questions that still haunted him. Why do we even exist?
And his father was missing…
Iván couldn't shake the feeling that his mother was hiding something. There was something in her eyes, something she wasn't telling him.
Then there was his bloodline—the Adrastus.
He hadn't forgotten. How could he? He'd never asked before, but now the question burned in his mind. If the Hales are known for their strength… then what is my family's gift?
His eyes narrowed as he thought of his father. The man wasn't some laid-back, joking type. No—he dressed like a businessman, always sharp, always composed.
In fact, come to think of it… he never really looked like a DEA agent at all.
And now that he thought about it, his mother drove a Mercedes SUV. The house, the money—everything. She never once seemed worried about bills or expenses.
It was a lie…
All of it.
He wasn't missing, was he?
Iván's eyes narrowed, the weight of realization crashing down on him. I should've guessed this from the start.
He rubbed his head in frustration. Dad was a werewolf… and I didn't even question it!
Iván stood up, fury burning in his eyes as he stormed off.
"Where are you going?" Rowan called after him.
"To talk to my mother," Iván snapped, his voice tight with anger.
7 years ago…
A man in a sharp black-and-white suit stood near the window, pins on his lapel bearing the golden wolf crest of House Adrastus. He was middle-aged, with piercing silver eyes and jet-black hair—bearing a striking resemblance to his eldest son.
"Xavier," his father said calmly, "when will you tell your son about his heritage? He's my grandson, after all—the future of this House."
Xavier's silver eyes narrowed. "My son will stay far away from the politics of the supernatural world. I want him to enjoy being a child… something I never had."
"How noble," a voice scoffed from across the room.
An older man stepped forward, his hair white with streaks of faded black, his eyes also silver. He leaned heavily on a cane, his presence commanding despite his age.
"You've grown overprotective, Xavier."
"I have to be," Xavier replied firmly.
"If you hadn't married that human girl, you wouldn't have to be," the old man snapped. "She made you weak. And they can sense it."
He struck the cane against the floor, anger flashing in his eyes.
"I will not have you speak ill of her," Xavier said sharply.
The old man grumbled, but said no more.