The warmth lingered.
It settled into everything, the air, the walls, the quiet hum of the kitchen that felt untouched by time. Adam sat on the counter, legs hanging loosely off the edge, a plate balanced in his lap as he took another bite.
The lasagna was perfect.
Rich layers melted together, the cheese stretching slightly as he pulled his fork away, the taste deep and familiar in a way that made something in his chest tighten without warning. The tomato carried just enough sweetness to balance the herbs, the meat seasoned just right, everything baked into something that didn't just taste good, it felt like home.
God…
He chewed slowly, savoring it longer than he needed to.
She actually nailed it.
Across from him, Clara leaned casually against the counter, her own plate in hand. She didn't sit properly, one hip resting against the edge, posture relaxed, like she had nowhere else to be and no reason to rush.
Her cream satin dress caught the soft kitchen light, the fabric shifting gently as she moved, smooth against her skin. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, slightly tousled in a way that looked effortless, framing her face as she took a bite of her own cooking.
She was watching him.
Not openly.
Not in a way that called attention to itself.
But it was there.
A quiet kind of focus behind her eyes, subtle and steady, like she was measuring his reaction without needing to ask.
Adam swallowed, then glanced at her.
"…it still doesn't make any sense."
Clara raised a brow slightly, her lips curving as she chewed.
"Mhm?"
He gestured vaguely with his fork, frowning a little as he tried to put it into words.
"This."
Another bite hovered for a second before he pointed at the plate, then around the kitchen.
"We're not… here. Not really. My body's not here. So how am I eating?"
He looked back down at the lasagna, poking at it slightly.
"Like, what difference does it even make?"
His brow furrowed deeper.
"Should I even be able to taste this?"
Clara didn't answer right away.
She chewed slowly, swallowed, then tilted her head just slightly as if actually considering it.
For a second, it almost looked like she might give him a real explanation.
Then she smiled.
Not dismissive.
Not evasive.
Just… easy.
"I'd be lying if I said I could explain any of this."
Adam blinked.
"That's it?"
She shrugged lightly, completely unbothered.
"What matters is I got the recipe right."
He stared at her.
Then huffed out a quiet laugh despite himself.
"Yeah… yeah, you did."
Clara's smile widened, pleased in a way that felt almost smug.
"Obviously."
They ate in silence for a moment after that.
Not awkward.
Comfortable.
The kind of quiet that didn't need to be filled, where the only sounds were the faint clink of utensils and the soft hum of the house around them.
Adam took another bite.
Slower this time.
But his mind had already started drifting.
The warmth.
The calm.
It didn't quite reach all the way in.
Not anymore.
He swallowed, then shifted slightly on the counter.
"…can you see it?"
Clara's fork paused mid-air. She didn't look at him right away.
"See what?"
"The outside."
His voice was quieter now.
More careful.
"Like… what's happening out there."
A small pause.
Then she nodded.
"A little."
Adam's grip on the fork tightened just slightly.
"…have I—" He hesitated. The question sat heavy in his chest, pressing up against his throat like something that didn't want to be said out loud.
"…have I killed anyone?"
Clara's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Her lips pressed together slightly, her eyes shifting as if weighing something carefully.
It wasn't hesitation.
Not quite.
It was… consideration.
Adam noticed.
Of course he did.
His chest tightened further.
"Just tell me."
His voice was lower now.
More grounded.
Clara exhaled softly through her nose, then tilted her head again, studying him in that quiet way she had.
Whatever answer she had, she held onto it.
Just for a second longer.
Then she spoke.
"Whatever's happening out there…"
Her tone was gentle.
Careful.
"…it's the wolf."
Adam's jaw tightened.
"It's not you."
That wasn't what he asked.
They both knew that.
His gaze dropped slightly, his appetite fading as something heavier settled in his stomach.
"…that doesn't really answer the question."
Clara's eyes softened just a touch.
"It answers the part that matters."
Adam didn't respond.
Didn't look back up.
For a moment, the only sound was the faint scrape of his fork against the plate.
Then Clara's voice shifted.
Light again but deliberate.
"You're gonna beat yourself up over it if I tell you."
That pulled his attention back.
His brows furrowed slightly.
"And if I don't?"
A small smirk tugged at her lips.
"Then I won't tell you what you've been dying to know."
That did it.
Adam blinked.
"…that's not fair."
Clara only smiled wider.
"I know."
He stared at her.
Suspicious now.
But curious.
Very, very curious.
"…what are you talking about?"
She leaned back slightly against the counter, setting her plate down beside her as she crossed her arms loosely.
"You've got questions."
That much was obvious.
"About yourself."
Her gaze flicked briefly to his chest.
"About that."
Adam's breath slowed slightly.
"The blood right."
She held his gaze now. "And… about me."
Something in his chest tightened again.
Clara's expression softened just a fraction.
"I'll tell you enough."
Not everything.
Enough.
Adam noticed the wording.
Of course he did.
But it didn't stop the way his focus sharpened immediately.
"Alright," he said, straightening slightly. "Then start talking."
Clara chuckled under her breath. "Eager, aren't ya?"
"Obviously."
She hummed, then gestured lightly with her chin.
"What do you already know?"
Adam exhaled slowly, organizing his thoughts.
"Not much."
His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the plate.
"Just… that it's inherited."
He frowned slightly.
"Something about two really powerful people way back."
A small pause.
"That's about it."
Clara stared at him for a second before laughing.
Not loud.
But enough.
Adam frowned immediately.
"What?"
"You should really do your homework."
She pointed lazily toward his chest.
"Considering you're walking around with it."
He glanced down instinctively, even though he couldn't actually see it here.
"…yeah, well, nobody exactly handed me a manual."
"Excuses."
He rolled his eyes. "How Helpful."
Clara smirked, then pushed herself off the counter slightly.
"Alright."
Her tone shifted.
Not playful.
Not entirely.
Something in between.
"Our time here isn't unlimited."
Adam stilled.
"…what does that mean?"
She ignored the question.
Or maybe just chose not to answer it yet.
"The tattoo on your chest," she continued, "that's just proof."
"Proof of what?"
"Manifestation."
Adam blinked.
"That doesn't help."
"It will."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Once you understand magic theory."
He frowned again.
"…which I don't."
"Exactly."
Clara smiled faintly.
"So I'm keeping it simple."
She stepped a little closer now, her presence settling in front of him, steady and grounding.
"As it stands…" Her eyes flicked over him briefly. "…you're strong."
Adam didn't react.
Not outwardly.
But something in his chest tightened at the certainty in her voice.
"Stronger than most werewolves."
A pause.
"Stronger than I ever was."
That caught him.
His brows pulled together.
"…what?"
Clara didn't look away.
"The difference between us is…" She tapped lightly against his chest with one finger. "You can use magic."
Silence.
Adam blinked.
Once.
Then twice.
"…I can what?"
Clara didn't repeat herself.
Didn't need to.
His mind scrambled, trying to make sense of it, to connect it to anything he knew.
"…that doesn't make any sense."
"I know." She said it easily. "But it's true."
He shook his head slightly, running a hand through his hair.
"…how?"
Clara exhaled softly.
"I can't get into that."
Of course she couldn't.
Frustration flickered briefly across his face.
"But what you need to understand…" Her voice lowered just slightly. "…is that you're not just a werewolf."
Adam's eyes lifted to meet hers again.
"You're an unrealized mage."
The words settled.
Heavy.
"And…"
A brief pause.
"…a bearer of an unawakened blood right."
The kitchen felt quieter.
Smaller.
"…unawakened?"
Clara nodded once.
"As you are now…" She took a step back, giving him space, but her gaze never left him. "You're already above most things that would come after you."
Adam swallowed.
"…most?"
Her lips curved faintly.
"You can still lose."
That landed harder than everything else.
"If you don't get stronger."
The warmth in the room shifted.
Subtly.
Barely noticeable.
But it changed.
"You need to learn."
Her tone was firmer now.
"To control what you have... And to exploit it."
Adam's grip tightened slightly around his fork.
"…why?"
Clara didn't hesitate.
"Because they're coming."
The words cut clean through the room.
Sharp.
Cold.
"The people who killed my clan."
A pause.
"…who killed me."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Adam's appetite vanished completely.
His plate sat forgotten in his lap as his thoughts tangled together, trying to process everything at once.
"Wait… what do you mean unawakened?"
The question came quickly.
Almost too quickly.
An attempt to shift.
To breathe.
Clara let him.
For now.
"At any given time…"
She spoke slowly and carefully.
"Two people exist."
Adam stilled.
"Each carrying half of the bloodright."
His chest tightened again.
"To awaken it…" Her gaze held his. "The other has to die."
The air seemed to thin.
"…what?"
"In an act of sacrifice." Her voice didn't waver. "An act called the blood's anointing."
Adam's throat went dry.
"And only then…" Her eyes didn't leave his. "…does it fully manifest."
A long pause.
"…what happens then?" Adam asked
Clara's lips curved slightly.
Not playful.
Not this time.
"You become something close to a god."
Adam didn't respond. He couldn't.
The weight of it pressed down hard, settling into his chest like something solid.
"…so that means…"
He swallowed.
"There's someone else."
Clara nodded.
"Out there."
"And closer than you think." Clara added
Adam's pulse picked up.
"How do you know?"
"The tattoo reacts." Her gaze flicked to his chest again. "It gets stronger when you're near the other half."
Adam's stomach twisted.
"And you will meet..." She said matter of factly before her voice softened slightly. "...Eventually."
Not a question.
Not a possibility.
But rather, a certainty.
"…and when I do?"
Clara didn't answer immediately.
"You need to be strong enough to survive it."
The implication hung there.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Adam went quiet.
Completely.
His fork lowered slowly until it rested against the plate.
He didn't take another bite.
Didn't move.
His thoughts spiraled inward, the weight of everything pressing down, stacking, building into something he didn't know how to carry yet.
Across from him Clara watched closely.
Not just as a mother.
Something else lingered beneath it.
Subtle and quiet.
Her gaze traced his expression, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his breathing shifted, the way his silence deepened.
She took a slow breath.
Then she smiled.
Light again, and easy.
Like none of that had just happened.
"Wanna hear about how I died?"
The shift was sharp.
Intentional.
Adam blinked, pulled out of his thoughts just enough to look up.
"…what?"
Her smirk returned.
"I figured that'd get your attention."
It did.
"…yeah," he said, more focused now. "Yeah, I do."
Clara nodded once.
"The reason they wiped out my clan…"
Her tone leveled.
"…and killed me…"
A brief pause.
"…is the same reason they'll come after you."
Adam's jaw tightened.
"The blood right." He exhaled slowly. "…who are they?"
Clara's smile didn't fade.
But something behind it shifted.
"I'd love to tell you."
Adam leaned forward slightly.
"Then tell me."
"You're not ready."
"I am." He retorted
She shook her head gently, still smiling.
"No, you're not."
Something about the way she said it—
It was calm, certain and final.
It stopped him.
Not forcefully and definetly not harshly.
But completely.
"…you don't know that." Adam pleaded.
"I do."
Her voice softened just enough.
And somehow.
That made it harder to argue.
She stepped closer again, just within reach, her presence steady, grounding.
"They're closer than you think."
Adam stilled. "Closer than I—?"
"You might even call them friends."
The words sank in slowly.
Confusion followed immediately after.
"That doesn't make any—"
"Do not be deceived."
The air shifted again.
But this time it didn't settle back.
The kitchen flickered.
Subtle at first. The edges of things softening, like the world itself was losing focus.
Adam blinked.
"…what's happening?"
He looked around.
The warmth—
It was still there.
But it was thinning. Fading at the edges.
"…we've only been here like half an hour." His voice carried a hint of urgency now. "How is it already—?"
"Time flows differently here." Clara's voice came calm and unbothered.
Like this was expected.
Like she knew it was coming.
Adam looked back at her—
And paused.
Something had changed.
Not all at once but subtle.
Her eyes—
They weren't the same.
A faint amber glow settled into them, soft at first, then more defined as the seconds passed.
Her canines—
Slightly sharper and more pronounced.
Not a full shift.
But enough.
Enough to remind him.
Of what she was.
Of what she had always been.
Of what they were.
His breath caught slightly. "…mom?"
She smiled.
And this time there was something else in it.
Still warm and still familiar. But edged just slightly.
"Keep your friends close…" Her voice softened. "…and your enemies closer."
A quiet chuckle slipped from her. Light, almost amused.
"…funny thing is…"
Her gaze held his.
"You've already done that."
Adam frowned, trying to process it.
"What does that—?"
"You'll figure it out." she interrupted
The world flickered again. Harder this time.
The edges breaking apart and darkness creeping in.
"I don't—" he started
"You need to walk this path." Her voice cut through the unraveling space, steady, unwavering. "On your own."
Adam felt it now. The pull, dragging him away.
"Wait—"
"I've given you everything you need." Her smile flattened slightly. The warmth in it dimming just a fraction.
"When you find the truth…" Her eyes burned brighter. "…you'll be ready."
Her voice dropped.
Lower.
Colder.
"To do what has to be done."
Adam's chest tightened. "…what?"
Her expression didn't change. "To our enemies."
The word landed heavy and final.
And for a moment—
The room wasn't warm at all.
It was quiet.
Still and sharp.
Like something waiting beneath the surface.
The world collapsed inward.
Light folding into shadow.
Sound thinning into nothing.
Adam reached forward or rather, he tried to. But he was already fading.
Already gone.
And in the darkness that followed—
One word remained.
Clear and unshaken.
Avenge.