CHAPTER 5
827 Words
The night was quiet, but I couldn't relax.
Ever since Rhysand came back, I haven't been able to find the peace I had struggled to build.
Even when he's not around, I can still feel his presence. The gaze of his piercing eyes, his deep voice-and the memory of the night I shouldn't have forgotten-are still imprinted on my skin.
Outside, the moon was bright.
Big.
White.
Full.
Full moon.
I turned to Zephyr's room.
I got up, approached his room's door. Gently knocked.
"Honey?" No answer.
I opened the door.
And there he was, standing in front of the window. He's sweaty and trembling.
"Zephyr?"
I approached him and he suddenly turned around-his eyes were yellow. This wasn't new to me, but now, it was more vivid. More ferocious.
"Ma... my body is so hot. It feels like... like something wants to come out," he said hoarsely. He was shaking.
I clutched my chest. "Shit."
He suddenly collapsed to the floor, holding his stomach. "Ma, help me."
And in an instant, I heard the door slam open.
When I turned around-Rhysand was there. Sweaty too, as if in a hurry. As if he knew.
"Move," he ordered.
"What are you doing here?"
"I followed his energy. He's about to shift."
"He's not ready yet!"
"We don't have time, Lysandra!"
He approached Zephyr, placed his palm on the boy's back. He whispered something I didn't understand, a language I didn't know.
The surroundings suddenly turned cold.
My son slowly calmed down. He lay down on the floor.
He closed his eyes.
"What did you do?" I asked.
"I slowed down the process. But I can't stop him. His body is looking for a form."
"Why now? He's still so young."
Rhysand stood up, facing me. "Our son is not normal, Lysandra. A werewolf shifts at the age of twelve and up. Zephyr... is only six years old."
It felt like ice water was poured down my back. "What does that mean?"
"He has blood I don't recognize. Aside from mine."
I stepped back. "What are you trying to say?"
"You have a lineage you don't know about. And that's what's accelerating his transformation."
"I don't have any lineage. I'm a normal person."
He didn't answer immediately. He just looked at me for a long time.
"No," he finally said. "There's something different about you. That's why I can't forget you. That's why in just one night, my body chose you."
"Rhysand..."
"Werewolves aren't the only ones who can connect with you that deeply, Lysandra. You have a lineage of-another being."
I sat down on the floor. I covered my face. "I don't want this anymore. It's too much."
He sat down beside me too. "This isn't about fear. This is about the truth. We need to find out what's going on with you to protect Zephyr."
"What if I can't accept it?" I whispered.
"You don't have a choice, love."
I turned to him. He smiled, slightly.
"And I didn't just call you love because of our son. I called you that because my feelings for you haven't changed."
I stared at him silently.
And in a second, everything came back, his kiss, the weight of his body, the heat of the night I deliberately tried to forget.
"You can't use this," I said, softly but sharply.
"I'm not using it. It's just the truth."
He sighed.
"Whether we're together or not, I won't abandon my son. But Lysandra, you need to decide if you want to know the whole truth."
"What do you mean?"
"I know someone. He's a seeker. He studies blood, lineage. He might be able to help us find out what's going on with you and our son."
I shook my head. "Wouldn't that be more dangerous? If other beings find out that Zephyr is strong-"
"It's more dangerous if we don't know who the allies are. In this world, knowledge is a shield."
I looked at my son who was still lying down. He was fast asleep, but there was still a trace of pain on his face. I wanted to take him away from all this. I wanted to bring back the days when it was just us, without danger, without strange creatures.
But we can't go back anymore. We're not normal anymore.
I'm not normal anymore.
And I'm more afraid of losing my son than any creature.
I nodded. "Okay. Let's meet your seeker."
Rhysand smiled. "Good. We'll leave tomorrow."
I looked at him. "But remember this, Rhysand."
"What?"
"I still don't trust you. Not even a little."
"I know."
He stood up. "But I hope the day comes when you can again. Because I still love you, Lysandra. Even if I don't know why."
And as he left the house, I felt the heaviness in my chest again. Not fear and not anger too.
Hope.
That maybe in the chaos of all this there's a light at the end.
- Writer
