บท 13: Blood Ties
I drummed my fingers nervously on the kitchen counter, watching Damien pace back and forth. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second stretching into eternity as we waited for Emma's arrival.
"Relax," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "It's just your sister."
Damien ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild. "You don't understand, Bella. Emma... she's always been able to read me like an open book. What if she figures out what I am?"
I bit my lip, remembering how easily I'd sensed his true nature. If Emma had even a fraction of my newfound abilities, Damien's secret wouldn't stay hidden for long.
The doorbell rang, making us both jump. Damien froze, staring at the door like it might burst open and devour him. With a sigh, I moved to answer it myself.
Emma stood on the porch, a whirlwind of energy barely contained in her petite frame. Her eyes, the same striking green as Damien's, lit up when she saw me.
"You must be Isabella!" she exclaimed, pulling me into an unexpected hug. "I've heard so much about you!"
I hugged her back, a little stiffly. "All good things, I hope?"
She laughed, a musical sound that eased some of the tension in my shoulders. "Oh, you have no idea. Damien's been—"
"Emma!" Damien appeared behind me, his voice a touch too loud. "You made it!"
The siblings embraced, and I couldn't help but notice how Damien's eyes darted around nervously, as if searching for signs that Emma could sense his secret.
Dinner was a strained affair. Damien, usually so composed, kept dropping his fork and knocking over his water glass. I did my best to keep the conversation flowing, asking Emma about her job in the city and her hobbies.
"Oh, you know, the usual," Emma said between bites of lasagna. "Work, yoga, the occasional night out. Nothing as exciting as all the animal attacks you've been having around here."
I nearly choked on my wine. Damien's knuckles went white around his fork.
"Animal attacks?" I managed to say.
Emma nodded enthusiastically. "It's all over the news! They're saying it might be a wolf pack that's moved into the area. Isn't that wild?"
"Wolves?" Damien's voice was strained. "That's... that's crazy. There haven't been wolves in this area for decades."
Emma shrugged. "Well, something's out there. Oh! Did I tell you about the weird dream I had last night?"
I felt Damien tense beside me. "Dream?"
"Yeah, it was so vivid. I was running through the woods, but I wasn't me, you know? I was some kind of animal, and everything smelled so intense, and I could hear things from miles away. It felt so real!"
The glass in Damien's hand shattered.
"Damien!" I exclaimed, jumping up to help him with the spilled wine and broken shards.
"I'm fine," he muttered, but his face had gone pale.
Emma watched us with a frown. "Are you okay, bro? You seem really on edge tonight."
"I'm fine," Damien repeated, more firmly this time. "Just tired from work. How about dessert?"
I escaped to the kitchen, grateful for a moment to collect my thoughts. As I cut slices of the chocolate cake I'd baked earlier, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Emma's dream, her interest in the attacks... it was too much of a coincidence.
When I returned to the dining room, I found Emma standing by the window, staring out at the darkening sky.
"The moon's beautiful tonight," she said softly. "It's almost full, isn't it?"
Damien made a strangled sound. "Emma, why don't you sit down? The cake's getting cold."
But Emma didn't move. She pressed a hand to the window, her reflection showing a look of confusion. "That's weird," she murmured.
"What's weird?" I asked, setting the cake down.
"I feel... strange. Like my skin is too tight. And there's this smell..."
Alarm bells rang in my head. I reached out with my senses, the way I'd been practicing, trying to detect any hint of the werewolf energy I'd come to associate with Damien.
To my horror, I felt it—faint, but unmistakable—emanating from Emma.
"Damien," I said urgently, but he was already moving, grabbing his sister's arm and pulling her away from the window.
"Emma, I think you should lie down. You're not feeling well."
Emma shook her head, blinking rapidly. "No, I'm fine. I just need some air." She pulled away from Damien and headed for the front door.
"Emma, wait!" Damien called, panic clear in his voice.
But Emma had already stepped outside. The cool night air hit us as we followed her onto the porch. Emma stood at the bottom of the steps, her back to us, eerily still.
"Emma?" I said softly, taking a cautious step forward.
She turned slowly, and I gasped. Her eyes, usually so like Damien's, now glowed with an unnatural amber light.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Before either of us could answer, Emma doubled over with a cry of pain. I watched in horror as her fingers began to elongate, nails sharpening into claws.
"Damien," I breathed, "what do we do?"
But Damien seemed frozen, staring at his sister with a mix of terror and guilt.
Emma's cries turned to growls, her body contorting in ways that defied human anatomy. Fur sprouted along her arms, her face elongating into a muzzle.
As the transformation took hold, Emma—or the creature she was becoming—lifted her head and let out a bone-chilling howl that echoed through the night.
In that moment, I knew our lives would never be the same.
The newly turned werewolf that had been Emma just seconds ago turned its amber eyes on us, a low growl rumbling in its throat. My heart pounded as I realized we were now face to face with a feral werewolf, with no idea how to control it or if any trace of Emma remained inside.
As the werewolf took a menacing step towards us, teeth bared, I grabbed Damien's arm. "What do we do now?" I whispered urgently, but Damien remained frozen, staring at the creature that had been his sister just moments ago.
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