The Wolfmen Were Real.

-Greyson-

A week earlier — August 2004

I hated it when Dakota barged into my room because it usually meant one of two things: trouble or gossip. With Dakota, there was rarely a difference.

"Omg! Greyson, did you hear?" she said, flipping through a magazine while lying across my bed like she owned the place. I glanced over at her from the couch. "Hear what?"

She sat up immediately, her eyes wide with excitement. "Well, I overheard my mom talking to yours last night, and apparently Richard Bergeron's son is moving back home." I frowned. "Okay... and?"

Dakota stared at me like I was missing something obvious. "He's taking over as chief of police. And he's bringing his sixteen-year-old daughter with him." I sat up straighter. "You're messing with me, right?"

Dakota shook her head. "Nope. I'm serious." She tossed the magazine onto the floor and stood up.

"That might be why things are changing so quickly. But of course, nobody ever tells us anything!"

"How does your mom even know he's coming back?" I asked. "I don't know," she replied, throwing her hands up. "But doesn't that bother you, Greyson? We're always too young to be involved. We're sixteen, for crying out loud. Yet we all know who the enemy is. We've grown up hearing the stories about our ancestors, but we're still not allowed into the Camarae." I sighed. Here we go again.

"Wow, Dakota. You're doing the thing again."

"What thing?" she snapped. "The thing where you start a rebellion because nobody tells you tribe secrets. Although you might not be completely out there, this time." Before she could respond, the door opened. "She's at it again, isn't she?" Logan said as he walked into my room. "Yep, but it's not complete insanity this time. " I replied. Dakota crossed her arms. "I can't believe you two. We're going to have a Bergeron in our school!"

"The enemy?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. Dakota pointed at him. "Exactly!" Logan looked between us, confused. "Wait. So Bergeron's son is moving back?"

"Yes!" Dakota said. "Greyson's father told him—" She stopped herself. I noticed.

"My father didn't tell me anything," I said. Dakota looked away. "Anyway, Richard Bergeron's son is returning, and he's bringing his daughter." Logan frowned. "Hold up. Didn't Peter Bergeron die or something?" Dakota stared at him and then back at me. "IDIOTS!" She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room. Logan watched her leave. "She's crazy. Why do we put up with her?"

I looked at him. "She's your twin." He rolled his eyes. "Thanks for reminding me." I couldn't help but laugh.

But as I looked toward the window, my smile faded. The Bergerons were coming back.

And for some reason, I had a feeling that meant trouble.

Later that evening

"Greyson, my office." My father's voice echoed down the hallway, and I immediately knew this wasn't going to be a casual conversation. I got off my bed and followed him down the hall. When I stepped inside, he closed the door behind me. "Is this about the Bergerons moving back?" I asked.

Dad looked at me for a moment. "Who told you?"

"Dakota. She overheard Mom and her mother talking." He sighed. "Of course she did."

I sat down in the chair across from his desk while he remained standing.

"We need to discuss Peter Bergeron's return." I raised an eyebrow. "Because of the feud?"

"Yes." He walked around his desk and sat down. "But not for the reasons you think." I waited.

"Our families have carried this conflict for generations. A rivalry that began centuries ago has continued because people refuse to let go of the past." I frowned. "The Bergerons are still our enemies."

My father's expression hardened slightly. "That is exactly the kind of thinking I am trying to change."

I looked away.

"My memories of Peter Bergeron are different from the stories your grandfather told you. Peter questioned his father's beliefs. He challenged traditions he didn't agree with and eventually chose his own path." I couldn't help but scoff. "Sounds familiar."

For a moment, his expression softened. "It does." I knew what he meant. My father and grandfather had never been close. Their arguments had been loud enough for the entire house to hear.

And sometimes, they had gone beyond words.

"With your grandfather gone, I see an opportunity to end something that should have ended long ago."

I stared at him. "Okay... and what does that have to do with me?" His gaze met mine.

"Peter has a daughter." I already knew where this was going. "No." I shook my head. "Greyson."

"No," I said, louder this time. "You haven't even heard what I was going to say."

I glared at him, "You want me to be friends with her." My father said nothing. That was enough of an answer. I laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." I was shocked. "After everything we've been taught? After everything we've heard about them?"

I shook my head again. "You want me to just pretend none of it happened?" My father's jaw tightened.

"The feud between our families happened centuries ago. It is not yours to carry," he replied.

"But we still follow the rules." He nodded. "Because traditions are not the same as hatred."

I stared at him. "You expect me to trust a Bergeron?"

"I expect you to think for yourself." That annoyed me more than if he had yelled.

Because he was always like this. Calm. Controlled.

Like he had already decided what was right, and everyone else simply needed to accept it.

"Those people killed our ancestors." My father's eyes narrowed. "Enough."

The single word silenced me. "You will not repeat stories you do not understand."

I clenched my jaw. "Then explain them." The room went quiet. And for the first time, I noticed something strange. My father looked tired. Not angry. Tired.

"There are things about our family that you need to know." I frowned. "What does that mean?"

He stood and walked toward the window. "Tell me something, Greyson. What do you think the wolf on our family crest represents?" I shrugged. "Our ancestors. Strength. Protection."

"And if I told you it represented something more?" I let out a short laugh. "Come on, Dad."

He turned to face me. "You've noticed the changes." My smile disappeared. "What changes?"

"Your body. Your strength. Your senses. Your temper." I didn't answer. Because I had noticed.

The sudden growth. The way my hearing had become sharper. The way my emotions felt stronger than before. I just thought it was part of growing up. "Do you know why you've changed so quickly?"

I looked at him. He took a breath. "Because the stories you were told were never stories."

My stomach tightened. "What?"

"The wolfmen were real." I stared at him. "No."

"Greyson."

"No." I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "That's impossible."

My father didn't move. "You carry the blood of our ancestors." I felt my heartbeat quicken.

"What are you saying?" His voice remained steady. "I am the Alpha of the Montes Rocky Tribe."

The room suddenly felt too small. "The people who live within these mountains are part of our Tribe. Our ancestors were not simply warriors who followed wolves." He paused. "They became them."

I shook my head. "No."

"Greyson—"

"No, Dad. This is insane." His expression didn't change. And somehow, that made it worse.

"You expect me to believe that I'm going to turn into some kind of monster?" My voice rose.

"That's when I turn eighteen, I just lose control?"

"Yes." The answer was immediate. Cold. My anger faltered. "Your wolf will awaken. And when it does, you will need to be prepared." I stared at him. "Prepared?"

"Your wolf is part of you. But you're not its master. Not at first."

I swallowed. "And if I can't control it?" My father's expression became harder.

"Then I will do what is necessary." My chest tightened. "Meaning?"

"You know exactly what I mean." The silence between us was heavy. "You would lock me away."

"If that is what is required to protect you and everyone around you." I stood up.

"Protect me?" I laughed bitterly. "You mean control me." His eyes sharpened.

"Watch yourself." Normally, that warning would have been enough. Normally, I would have backed down.

But nothing about tonight was normal. "My entire life has been a lie, and you're standing there acting like this is just another order I have to follow." My father's expression hardened.

"Your attitude will not change reality."

"And your rules won't change who I am!" For the first time, my voice shook. Because I wasn't angry anymore. I was scared. My father saw it.  But he didn't soften. An Alpha couldn't afford to.

"You need to learn control." I clenched my fists. "Or what?" His answer came quietly.

"Or the wolf will control you." Something inside me snapped. I shoved the stool behind me, sending it crashing into the wall. I didn't even recognize my own anger. The room blurred. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. And then everything went black.

Late that night.

I opened my eyes. For a moment, I had no idea where I was. It was completely dark. Not the kind of darkness you get when the lights are off in your bedroom. This was different. Cold. Heavy.

"Where the hell am I?" I whispered. My voice echoed back at me. Then I heard footsteps. Slow. Controlled. "You're in one of the old mountain caves." My stomach dropped. "Dad?" I turned toward his voice, but I couldn't see him. "What is this?"

"This is where you will stay until you understand what is happening to you." A cold feeling spread through my chest. I tried to sit up. That's when I realized I couldn't. My arms were restrained. My neck too. Chains held me against the cold stone wall behind me. "What the hell?" I pulled against them, panic immediately rising. "Dad, get me out of this." Silence. Then his voice came again. "No."

My heart started pounding. "No?"

"You need to understand what happens when you lose control." I froze. Lose control. The memory came back in pieces. The office. My father. His words. The anger. Then nothing.

I couldn't remember what happened after I screamed. And that scared me more than anything.

"Dad..." My voice sounded smaller than I wanted. "What happened?" No answer.

I swallowed hard. "Did I hurt someone?" The silence was worse than anything he could have said.

"Dad, please." His footsteps moved farther away. "You need to learn control, Greyson." Panic took over.

"Wait!" I pulled against the chains. "Don't leave me here!" But the darkness swallowed him.

"DAD!" My voice echoed through the cave. Again. And again. Until there was nothing left but silence.

I stopped struggling. Because deep down, I already knew something was wrong. I had never lost control like that before. Not once. And now I couldn't even remember what I had done. I closed my eyes and tried to think.

The wolf on our family crest. The stories my grandfather told me. The legends everyone treated like history.

I always thought the wolf represented strength. Protection. The spirit of our ancestors. I never thought it was literal. I never thought it meant we carried something inside us. My father was the Alpha. The realization settled over me slowly. And suddenly, everything made sense. The way people listened when he spoke.

The way nobody challenged him. The way Logan and Dakota always followed my lead. I had always assumed it was because we grew up together. Because we were friends. But maybe it was something else. Maybe they weren't just following me. Maybe they were following what I was. I had spent my entire life hearing stories about the wolfmen. The protectors of the Tribe. The warriors who answered when their people called. But nobody ever told me those stories were about us. I remembered the old teachings. The wolf spirit passed through bloodlines.

The males carried the wolf's power. The females carried another part of that connection, their own bond to the wolf spirit and the Tribe. Different. Not weaker. They were the balance. The stories said the wolfmen eventually became divided. After the wars ended, they turned against each other. Tribes broke apart. Families scattered. But ours remained. Montes Rocky. One of the few Tribes still living on the land our ancestors claimed centuries ago. My head started spinning. Everything I knew about myself had changed in a single night. I wasn't just Greyson Blackwood. I was something else. Something dangerous. Something I couldn't control. My breathing became uneven. The walls felt like they were closing in. And the only thing I could do was scream.