For the first time since Whitewood, it was just the two of us.
No parents.
No Alphas.
No elders.
No werewolves staring at Vivian like she was some ancient prophecy that had suddenly walked back into their world.
Just me and her.
The tiny motel room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Vivian looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Her mind was exhausted.
After everything she had seen and everything she had learned, I couldn't blame her.
"You should sleep," I told her.
She looked at me.
"Sleep? After everything that happened?"
"Especially after everything that happened."
She sighed and sank back against the pillow.
"I don't think I'll be able to."
"You don't have to think about it."
I pulled the blanket over her.
"Just close your eyes."
She gave me an unimpressed look.
"You're acting like my mother."
"Someone has to."
She rolled her eyes but eventually closed them.
I moved back toward the chair.
For a few minutes, the room was silent.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My eyes immediately opened.
Vivian's eyes snapped open too.
We stared at each other.
Another knock.
Three short knocks.
I raised a finger to my lips.
"Stay here."
I quietly got up from the chair and moved toward the door.
My hand hovered near the handle.
I didn't open it.
Instead, I leaned toward the peephole.
My instincts immediately went on alert.
Five people stood outside.
Mia.
Jonathan.
Maxie.
Valerie.
Daniel.
I almost laughed from relief.
Almost.
Because there was still one question.
How the hell did they find us?
I turned back toward Vivian.
"It's Mia and the others."
Her shoulders immediately relaxed.
"Open it."
I looked through the peephole one more time.
They weren't alone in the hallway.
Their expressions were serious.
Far too serious.
Whatever had brought them here—
it wasn't a casual visit.
I unlocked the door.
The moment I opened it, Mia pushed past me.
"Finally!"
Jonathan followed close behind her, his eyes immediately searching the room.
Maxie entered next, followed by Valerie and Daniel.
Mia turned toward me.
"What happened?"
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
She stared at me as if I had asked the stupidest question imaginable.
"You disappeared from Whitewood carrying Vivian!"
Jonathan stepped forward.
"And none of us knew where you went."
I glanced at Vivian.
She was sitting on the bed, watching all of them carefully.
Mia's expression softened when she saw her.
"Viv."
Vivian gave her a tired smile.
"Hey."
Mia immediately crossed the room and hugged her.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then Mia pulled back and looked at her closely.
"You scared the hell out of us."
Vivian lowered her gaze.
"Sorry."
"Don't say sorry."
Mia's voice softened.
"We were just scared."
Jonathan nodded.
"Everyone was."
He looked at me.
"Especially after you ran."
I frowned.
"I wasn't going to leave her there."
"I know."
Jonathan's expression softened.
"That's why none of us stopped you."
I looked at him.
He gave me a small nod.
Then the room fell silent again.
Because now that everyone was here—
there was only one question left.
What were we going to do next?
We made everyone sit down.
Mia took the chair closest to Vivian. Jonathan sat beside her, while Maxie, Valerie, and Daniel settled around the small room. I remained standing for a moment, trying to figure out where the hell I was supposed to begin.
Vivian looked at me.
She knew.
We had already decided that if we were going to tell them, we had to tell them everything.
Well—
almost everything.
I took a deep breath.
"We have something to tell you."
The room immediately went quiet.
Mia frowned.
"That doesn't sound good."
"It isn't."
I sat down and looked at everyone.
"What we're about to tell you isn't something we heard from our parents. We saw it. We experienced it."
Jonathan leaned forward.
"Then start talking."
I nodded.
So I did.
I told them about the fight at Whitewood.
About Valdim Elrod.
About Cassian.
About how Elrod had deliberately put Vivian through a test, knowing exactly what she was.
I told them how Vivian's powers awakened in the middle of the fight.
How she used all four elements.
Darkness.
Water.
Earth.
Fire and air.
And then—
I told them about the moment she collapsed.
Mia's face tightened.
"I thought she fainted."
"She did," I said. "But not because she was exhausted."
Everyone looked at Vivian.
She quietly nodded.
"I wasn't there anymore," she said. "I was somewhere else."
I continued.
"She had a vision."
I explained everything she had told me about the strange place she had entered.
The ancient ruins.
The darkness.
The winged being.
Azazel.
The name alone made Daniel's expression change.
"Azazel?"
I nodded.
"The fallen angel."
The room became completely silent.
I told them about the Grigori.
About Samyaza.
About how the fallen angels had descended from the Celestial Realm.
About how they interacted with the ancient wolf clans.
And how those unions created bloodlines unlike anything the world had seen before.
Then came the New Moon Tribe.
A tribe born from those ancient bloodlines.
A tribe that drew its strength from darkness rather than the full moon.
A tribe that grew powerful enough to become feared.
And at the heart of that tribe—
Nyxia.
Vivian's eyes lowered.
I glanced at her before continuing.
"Azazel told her that Nyxia was his daughter."
Mia stared at us.
"Her daughter?"
"His daughter," Vivian corrected quietly.
I nodded.
"Nyxia was the daughter of Azazel and Lilith. She became one of the strongest Luna Alphas the New Moon Tribe had ever known."
Jonathan's expression hardened.
"And what happened to the tribe?"
I looked down.
"Elrod."
The word came out colder than I intended.
"Valdim Elrod and his Italian pack wiped them out."
Nobody spoke.
"They poisoned them," Vivian said quietly.
"The entire tribe?"
"Almost," I answered.
I explained how the Italian pack had infiltrated the New Moon bloodline and poisoned its members, leaving the tribe almost completely destroyed.
Mia covered her mouth.
"That's why her mother was the only survivor?"
Vivian nodded.
"She survived because she was hidden."
I continued.
"And that's why Elrod is so dangerous."
Jonathan's hands tightened into fists.
"He knows about Vivian."
"Yes."
"And he knows she's a New Moon?"
"Yes."
The room fell silent again.
Then Daniel asked the question none of us wanted to hear.
"Why would he summon all of us to Whitewood?"
I looked toward Vivian.
Because we knew the answer.
"He isn't just afraid of Vivian's powers."
I paused.
"He's afraid of what she represents."
Mia frowned.
"What does she represent?"
I looked at Vivian.
"The return of the New Moon bloodline."
No one spoke.
I leaned back.
"There was something else Azazel told her."
Everyone waited.
I could see Vivian hesitate.
But she didn't say it.
Neither did I.
Because there were some things we weren't ready to explain.
Not yet.
The truth about Nyxia.
The truth about Carlix.
And the strange connection that neither of us fully understood.
That could wait.
For now, they only needed to know one thing.
Valdim Elrod wasn't simply an old Alpha protecting his position.
He had destroyed an entire tribe once.
And now—
the bloodline he thought he had erased had returned.
Sitting right in front of him.
In Vivian.
I looked at Vivian.
She was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. After everything she'd learned tonight, I couldn't blame her.
I stood up.
"Alright."
Everyone looked at me.
"I'm going to get some food."
Mia raised an eyebrow.
"Food?"
"Yes, food."
I pointed toward Vivian.
"And while I'm gone, you guys take care of her."
Vivian immediately looked up.
"I can take care of myself."
"I know."
I smiled.
"But tonight you've discovered you're a werewolf, awakened four different powers, fought Cassian, met an ancient fallen angel, and apparently found out your soul has a connection to some legendary Luna Alpha."
I paused.
"So, for tonight, you're allowed to be taken care of."
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm fine."
"Sure you are."
Mia laughed quietly.
"I've got her."
Jonathan nodded.
"We'll stay with her."
I looked around at the others.
"Don't let her do anything stupid."
Vivian's mouth dropped open.
"Excuse me?"
Maxie laughed.
"He's got a point."
"Traitors," Vivian muttered.
I smiled.
For the first time since Whitewood, the room didn't feel quite so heavy.
I grabbed my jacket and reached for the door.
Then I stopped.
I looked back at Vivian.
She was watching me.
For a second, neither of us said anything.
Something about the way she looked at me made that strange feeling return.
That unsettling tingle.
The same one I'd felt earlier.
I pushed it aside.
"I'll be back."
She nodded.
"Okay."
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
The door clicked shut behind me.
I stood there for a moment.
Then I exhaled.
Food first.
Questions later.
Because somehow, after everything we'd learned tonight—
I had a feeling the night was nowhere near finished with us.
I walked out of the motel and headed toward a small diner a few minutes down the road.
The place was almost empty at this hour.
A few tables sat beneath the dim yellow lights, and the quiet hum of an old refrigerator mixed with the occasional clatter coming from the kitchen.
I walked up to the counter.
"Five dinner plates," I said. "And two Alfredo pastas."
The waiter raised an eyebrow.
"That's a lot of food."
I shrugged.
"Long night."
He laughed and walked away to put in the order.
I took a seat near the counter and leaned back.
For the first time since leaving Whitewood, I was alone with my thoughts.
That was probably a mistake.
Because the moment I stopped moving—
the memories started.
One particular memory surfaced.
Stanford.
A few years ago.
Vivian had left with me when I went there for my graduate course.
We were at the same university, but studying completely different things.
She was pursuing law.
I was studying business and entrepreneurship.
We had completely different schedules, different classes, different assignments.
Yet somehow—
we still ended up spending most of our free time together.
I remembered the first few weeks.
Vivian carrying an absurd number of books everywhere she went.
Casebooks.
Notebooks.
Highlighters in practically every color imaginable.
She'd sit in the library for hours, completely absorbed in whatever legal case she was reading.
And then she'd complain about how tired she was.
I'd tell her to sleep.
She'd tell me she couldn't.
I'd tell her she was insane.
She'd tell me to mind my own business.
Typical Viv.
I smiled at the memory.
There were days when we'd leave class at completely different times, yet somehow I'd find her waiting outside my building.
"Food?"
She'd ask.
No greeting.
No explanation.
Just—
"Food?"
And I'd follow her.
Because apparently that was how our friendship worked.
I remembered walking around the Stanford campus with her.
Arguing about everything.
Business versus law.
Entrepreneurship versus regulation.
Whether lawyers overcomplicated everything.
Whether businessmen thought money could solve everything.
She'd always insist she was right.
I'd always insist I was right.
Neither of us ever won.
But somehow, those were some of the best days of my life.
The waiter placed a glass of water in front of me.
"Food'll be ready soon."
I nodded.
"Thanks."
He walked away.
I stared down at the counter.
Stanford felt like another lifetime now.
Funny.
Back then, my biggest problem had been convincing Vivian that she couldn't survive on coffee and instant noodles.
Now she was apparently the most powerful werewolf hybrid to ever exist.
I couldn't help laughing quietly.
If I had told my younger self that one day Vivian would awaken the powers of four ancient tribes, meet a fallen angel, and discover she carried the soul of an ancient Luna Alpha—
I would've thought I was insane.
Then another thought hit me.
Carlix.
My smile faded.
Because according to Azazel—
I had been there before.
With her.
Beside Nyxia.
And somehow, despite all those centuries supposedly separating us...
I still couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been beside Vivian my entire life.
Maybe that was the part that frightened me most.
Not the werewolves.
Not Elrod.
Not even Azazel.
It was the possibility that some things—
some bonds—
could survive death itself.
I leaned back against the counter, waiting for the food.
While this memory was going through my mind, another one popped up. the one about the frat party night.
I remembered sitting in my dorm when I heard—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I frowned.
It was well past midnight.
Another knock.
Then came the giggling.
I knew that giggle.
I opened the door.
And there she was.
Vivian.
Standing outside my dorm room, swaying slightly, with the biggest grin I'd ever seen on her face.
"Hi, Jeremy."
I stared at her.
"You're drunk."
She gasped dramatically.
"I'm not drunk."
"You can barely stand."
"I can stand perfectly."
She immediately leaned against my doorframe for support.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Right."
She started laughing.
It took me a few seconds to figure out what she'd been drinking. Apparently, she'd met some Korean student at the party who had brought a drink from his country.
One drink became another.
Then another.
And somehow, half the people at the party had ended up trying it.
Whatever was in that drink had hit them hard.
Vivian was beyond drunk.
And don't ask me how I knew where she was that night.
I was tracking her.
Because she was Mia's friend.
That's what I told myself.
At least, that was the excuse I kept giving myself.
Mia wasn't even at Stanford with us at the time. She was at NLU, and Vivian had gone back on her own after the party before somehow finding her way to my dorm.
I looked at her again.
"How did you even get here?"
She shrugged.
"I walked."
"From the frat house?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
She gave me a proud smile.
"Technically."
I rubbed my forehead.
"This is going to be a long night."
She giggled again.
Then, without waiting for an invitation, she walked inside.
Or at least, she tried to.
Two steps in, she nearly stumbled over the carpet.
I caught her by the arm.
She looked at me and burst out laughing.
"See? I'm perfectly fine."
"You're impossible."
"I know."
I shook my head and helped her toward the couch.
She dropped onto it like she'd just completed some heroic mission and looked around my room.
"You have such a boring room."
"It's a dorm."
"Still boring."
"You came here."
She looked up at me with that ridiculously innocent smile.
"Because you're my friend."
I paused.
"Right."
She leaned back against the couch.
For a few seconds, she was quiet.
Then she suddenly frowned.
"Jeremy?"
"What?"
"I think the room is moving."
I sighed.
"The room isn't moving, Viv."
"It definitely is."
"Close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Because you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk."
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Then she burst out laughing again.
And somehow—
despite the chaos, the ridiculousness, and the fact that I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get her safely back to her dorm the next morning—
I smiled.
That was Vivian.
She could walk into my life at midnight, completely drunk, turn my quiet night upside down, and somehow make me enjoy every second of it.
Looking back now, I realize something.
Those were the moments that made me fall for her.
Not grand gestures.
Not some perfect romantic moment.
Just Vivian being Vivian.
And me pretending I was only looking out for her because she was Mia's friend.
Even though somewhere deep down—
I knew that excuse had stopped being true a long time ago.
I sat down beside her on the couch.
Vivian had already made herself comfortable—or at least, what she considered comfortable.
She had the cushion pulled tightly against her chest, snuggling into it like it was the most important thing in the world. Meanwhile, the blanket had somehow become her personal enemy.
She kept tugging at it.
Then kicking it away.
Then pulling it back.
It was almost like she was waging war against the poor thing.
I watched her for a few seconds.
"You're losing."
She looked at me with narrowed eyes.
"I'm not."
"You've been fighting that blanket for five minutes."
"It's attacking me."
I laughed under my breath.
"Sure."
She huffed and tried to pull the blanket over herself again.
It got tangled around her legs.
"Here."
I leaned closer, reaching down to help untangle it.
And that's when it happened.
Thud.
Her foot suddenly shot out.
Right into my chest.
I froze.
She froze.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then I slowly looked down.
Her leg was resting against my chest.
And without even thinking, my palm had caught her ankle.
Vivian followed my gaze.
Her eyes widened.
She looked at her leg.
Then at my hand.
Then at me.
"...Did I just kick you?"
I stared at her.
"Yes."
She blinked.
"Hard?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to demonstrate?"
She immediately shook her head.
"No."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Good."
She slowly pulled her leg back, looking almost embarrassed.
"Sorry."
"It's fine."
I let go of her ankle and leaned back against the couch.
She looked at me for another second.
Then, completely seriously, she whispered—
"The blanket made me do it."
I couldn't hold it anymore.
I laughed.
A genuine laugh.
She frowned at me.
"It's not funny."
"It really is."
She grabbed the cushion and hid half her face behind it.
"You're mean."
"You're drunk."
"I'm not."
"Right."
She peeked over the cushion.
"You keep saying that."
"Because you keep denying it."
She stared at me for a moment.
Then she smiled.
And somehow, even after getting kicked in the chest by a drunk Vivian fighting with a blanket—
I couldn't stop smiling either.
I sat down beside her on the couch.
Vivian had already made herself comfortable—or at least, what she considered comfortable.
She had the cushion pulled tightly against her chest, snuggling into it like it was the most important thing in the world. Meanwhile, the blanket had somehow become her personal enemy.
She kept tugging at it.
Then kicking it away.
Then pulling it back.
It was almost like she was waging war against the poor thing.
I watched her for a few seconds.
"You're losing."
She looked at me with narrowed eyes.
"I'm not."
"You've been fighting that blanket for five minutes."
"It's attacking me."
I laughed under my breath.
"Sure."
She huffed and tried to pull the blanket over herself again.
It got tangled around her legs.
"Here."
I leaned closer, reaching down to help untangle it.
And that's when it happened.
Thud.
Her foot suddenly shot out.
Right into my chest.
I froze.
She froze.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then I slowly looked down.
Her leg was resting against my chest.
And without even thinking, my palm had caught her ankle.
Vivian followed my gaze.
Her eyes widened.
She looked at her leg.
Then at my hand.
Then at me.
"...Did I just kick you?"
I stared at her.
"Yes."
She blinked.
"Hard?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to demonstrate?"
She immediately shook her head.
"No."
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Good."
She slowly pulled her leg back, looking almost embarrassed.
"Sorry."
"It's fine."
I let go of her ankle and leaned back against the couch.
She looked at me for another second.
Then, completely seriously, she whispered—
"The blanket made me do it."
I couldn't hold it anymore.
I laughed.
A genuine laugh.
She frowned at me.
"It's not funny."
"It really is."
She grabbed the cushion and hid half her face behind it.
"You're mean."
"You're drunk."
"I'm not."
"Right."
She peeked over the cushion.
"You keep saying that."
"Because you keep denying it."
She stared at me for a moment.
Then she smiled.
And somehow, even after getting kicked in the chest by a drunk Vivian fighting with a blanket—
I couldn't stop smiling either.
Suddenly, Vivian moved closer.
Really close.
So close that I instinctively stopped breathing.
If Mia had been there, she would've taken one look at us and immediately said, "Get a room, people."
But Mia wasn't there.
It was just us.
Vivian was staring straight at me.
Those almond-shaped eyes of hers caught the warm light of the room, glimmering like tiny fireworks caught behind glass.
For once, she wasn't giggling.
She wasn't fighting the blanket.
She wasn't complaining about my boring dorm room.
She was just—
looking at me.
I swallowed.
"Viv?"
She didn't answer.
She only tilted her head slightly, studying my face as though she'd never seen me before.
I could smell the faint trace of the drink on her breath.
My heart started beating faster.
Not because I was nervous.
At least, that's what I told myself.
She leaned a little closer.
And suddenly, I became painfully aware of how little space was left between us.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked quietly.
She blinked.
Then smiled.
"I like your face."
I stared at her.
"You're definitely drunk."
She giggled softly.
"Maybe."
I shook my head, trying not to smile.
"Go to sleep, Viv."
But she didn't move.
She simply continued looking at me with those shimmering eyes.
And for a moment, neither of us said anything.
I had spent years telling myself she was just Mia's best friend.
My friend.
Someone I protected because that's what friends did.
But sitting there with Vivian this close—
I realized how badly I had been lying to myself.