I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.

https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon

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Lucas's Perspective

I watched from the terrace of the small building as she—my biological mother—got in her car and drove off. It felt like everything should've just ended there. She was gone. The chapter was supposed to close. Yet, my eyes stayed fixed on her tail lights until they finally disappeared down the street.

I didn't want her in my life. I told her that, and I believed it. But somehow, seeing her leave—driving off into the night—still didn't sit right. Something in me wanted to make sure she was safe. To watch her until the very last trace of her presence faded from view. But that was all I could give her. I wouldn't let her back in.

My gaze dropped to the small business card she had handed me. Susan Lockwood was scrawled in elegant script across the front. I read the name twice—once because it was new, and once because it still felt strange to say.

Susan Lockwood.

I crumpled the card into my fist. She was a stranger. Nothing more.

Making sure no one was around, I pushed myself off the building, letting my agility carry me. I landed silently in the dark alley below, a fluid motion that barely disturbed the air. The weight of the card in my pocket felt heavier now. I wasn't sure if it was the card or the thought of what it symbolized.

I jogged back to my car, the streets eerily quiet as I drove home. The weight of everything pressed on me, and by the time I pulled into my apartment parking lot, I was ready to collapse into the familiar comfort of my own space.

I opened the door, stepping into the apartment to the soft hum of the TV. Emily was there, sitting on the couch, her eyes glued to the screen, but she paused as soon as I entered.

I tried to keep my face neutral, but the second her eyes met mine, she knew something was off.

She turned off the TV, an unspoken understanding passing between us.

"Hey," she said softly, standing up, "what happened?"

I just handed her the business card and said, "I met my biological mother."

Susan Lockwood's name was written neatly across it.

Emily took the card and glanced at it, her eyebrows furrowing as she read it. "What was she like?" she asked cautiously.

I let out a breath, leaning against the back. "I don't know," I muttered. "I didn't bother to ask." My fingers twisted the edge of the couch cushion as I spoke, the bitterness creeping back into my voice. "But… something she said is bothering me. She told me that my biological father died in a car crash before I was born." I looked at Emily, frustration building. "That shouldn't be possible. Not if he was a werewolf."

Emily's expression softened, and she nodded thoughtfully. "Odd. But not impossible. Sometimes the werewolf genes skip a few generations." She paused, searching my eyes for answers. "Could be something we don't understand yet."

I didn't respond right away. She was right. It was just a theory. But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it.

"Still," I continued, trying to push down the doubt that clouded my thoughts, "it doesn't add up."

Emily leaned back, her eyes thoughtful. "How did she even find you?" she asked, eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for an answer herself.

I shook my head, my gaze dropping to the floor. "She came across that photo of me on your Facebook page." I gave a short, humorless laugh. "Then she hired a PI to track me down." I felt the sting of it again, that connection Emily and I had never really discussed—the vulnerability of leaving traces of ourselves online.

Emily winced. "I never bothered to make my page private. But, then again, you and Richard never left behind any loose ends."

I clenched my jaw, the memory of Richard's meticulousness still fresh. He'd always been so careful, so deliberate. His ability to keep secrets, protect us, and make sure nothing could track us down had been his way of keeping us safe. And now it felt like I was standing on a fault line, one that had opened beneath my feet.

"This isn't a loose end," I said, the words coming out sharper than I intended. "And I have a feeling this won't go away anytime soon."

Emily studied me for a moment, then nodded as if she understood more than I could explain. She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was going through the same realization. This wasn't over.

Maybe I wasn't the one in control of my story anymore.

The silence between us was thick, charged with something unspoken. Maybe it was because Emily understood, maybe it was because she had already seen too much of the world I lived in—how things can come at us from all directions, unrelenting and without warning.

I could feel the weight of the card in my pocket, Susan's name, the sound of her voice repeating those words. Maybe it was the blood I shared with her, the face that mirrored mine. Maybe it was just the way she looked at me with regret in her eyes—something that unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

But I couldn't go back. Not now.

I had a life. And this woman, this stranger, had nothing to do with it.

I looked at Emily again, silently thanking her for just being here. For knowing when to ask questions and when to let me be.

It wasn't over.

But I would figure it out. Just like I always had.