Lycan Lineage

You Carry the Gene

His gaze locked on mine, and for a second everything stopped. Me. Him. The world. Then he launched forward, his muscles coiling like ropes ready to snap. The ground shook beneath the weight of his body.

I turned and ran. I ran with everything I had. The trees blurred past me, branches whipping at my skin, but I didn’t feel them. My heart pounded, not just from fear but from urgency. I couldn’t let him change his mind and go after her. It's my job now. To be faster. Smarter. More desperate.

His growls tore through the night, closer and closer. Branches cracked behind me like breaking bones. I knew he was gaining. I knew I couldn’t keep this up much longer. I risked a glance over my shoulder and nearly tripped. He was there. Massive. Foaming. His red eyes burning with hunger. With want.

I forced my legs to go beyond what they were capable of. The air scorched my lungs, and the edges of my vision began to darken. But I kept going. Because this was for her.

And then, up ahead, a chance: a fallen oak, huge, its branches tangled into a natural trap. I aimed for it like it was my last safe harbor and dove. I pushed through the branches, scraping my arms and face, catching the smell of sap and decay mixed with my sweat and terror.

Behind me, he charged through. Unstoppable. Unhesitating. His body smashed through the branches, snapping them with monstrous ease. But the narrow passage gave me seconds. Precious seconds. I reached the other side and turned. I stayed there. Facing him. One final stand. One final sacrifice to give her a chance to escape.

The creature stopped abruptly, confusion flickering in its eyes. His steps slowed, his keen nose testing the air as he crept forward. I could feel his heat before I could even see him clearly. The werewolf hesitated, as if something had caught his attention, his red eyes narrowed as he took in the scent of my blood drifting on the wind.

He stepped closer, hesitant, as if each movement cost more than it should. And that’s when I noticed: his muscles started to tremble again, like overtightened cords ready to snap. It wasn’t like before. The shift back was… wrong. Painful. Forced. Like his body, now accustomed to the beast’s shape, was rejecting the return to human flesh.

His skin rippled as if alive, writhing over bone as the fur slowly receded. Claws pulled back with dry cracks. His teeth shrank. Every inch of the transformation was a silent war, and when it ended, he collapsed to his knees, exhausted, chest heaving. In front of him, a branch stained with my blood.

Without thinking, he brought the branch to his mouth. The gesture was almost reverent. Strange. When his tongue touched the blood, his eyes shut instantly, not in disgust, but like he was tasting something sacred. A tremor ran through his bare body, from shoulders to spine, as if a current surged through him.

Then came the sound, a muffled howl, hoarse, but different from the others. There was pleasure in it. And confusion. A torn sigh that seemed to carry centuries of hunger and surprise. When his eyes opened again, they were dark and deep as a well. Hungry. And, at the same time, terrifyingly human.

“You carry the gene,” he said, his voice fractured and rough, still tangled with the echo of a howl stuck in his throat. “And here I was, about to rip your throat out.”

“The gene?” I repeated, not even realizing I’d spoken. My voice barely came out, a fragile whisper, broken by my rapid breathing. “What are you talking about?”

He faltered, as if the weight of his own body had become too much. He staggered slightly and then looked at me in a way that chilled my spine. It wasn’t anger. It was curiosity. And something deeper. Like he was seeing a part of me I didn’t even know existed.

“Your blood... there’s something in it. Something I’ve never tasted before. Like a memory that’s been asleep for centuries and just woke up. There’s power there. Old power. But it’s still hazy. I can’t see it clearly yet.”

His eyes drifted down my body slowly, and for a moment I felt exposed. Not because of what he was seeing, but because of what he seemed to feel. Like every cell in me was screaming something only he could hear.

“You’re one of us,” he continued, his voice lower, thicker. Almost mournful.

I couldn’t answer. I just stood there, staring at him like I was trying to decode an alien language. His words floated in the heavy air, but none of them made sense. My mind was scrambled, flashes of the chase, the blood, the roar, all tangled with the sound of his voice, far too calm for someone who, minutes ago, wanted to tear me apart.

It was too much. It was absurd. How could I be... that? Part of that thing? A part of me wanted to laugh. Another part wanted to throw up. But all of me could only stand there, breathing wrong, chest tight, like the air had turned to sludge.

“Mark of the wolf?” I thought. Where the hell is he getting this from? I don’t even know who he is. I don’t know what’s happening.

The ground felt distant, the world around me spinning slowly, like everything was about to collapse. I could barely feel my legs. Every part of me wanted to deny it. To run. To scream. But I didn’t even have the strength for that.

My throat closed in a strange, almost childlike way. And when I finally managed to open my mouth, only a thread of sound came out, weak and lost, “This isn’t possible. I’m... I’m just a girl. An ordinary girl.”

He laughed. A low, deep sound. It wasn’t mockery, it was surprise. Like I’d just told the best joke in the world without meaning to. He took a step forward. His body, still partially hidden by the branches, looked like part of the forest. Wild. Alive.

I tried to look away. Anywhere else. But my gaze betrayed me. It slipped down to his chest, the defined muscles, the way he moved, fluid, dangerous. And, against all logic, beautiful. Devilishly beautiful.

Seriously, brain? Now? I thought. This is when you choose to screw me over? I’m about to die and I’m here thinking about how hot he is.

“You’re not ordinary, June. Not even close. You’re trying to be something you never were. Embrace what’s rightfully yours. Become what you were born to be. The predator. Not the prey.”

He stepped closer, head tilting to the side, a curiosity bordering on fascination shining in his eyes. “Who are your parents?” he asked. “Have they been hiding their true nature from you all this time?”

“I... I don’t understand.”

“Some are bitten. They change later. Hybrids. Half human. Half beast. But you... you were born this way. You’re a Pureblood. A true Lycan. And your ichor, your blood, carries traits of a lineage I don’t even recognize. That intrigues me. Fascinates me. I thought I’d seen everything. But you… you’re different.”

Everything around me started spinning. The forest, the sky, the leaves, all of it whirled. My stomach turned, my feet lost the ground. I felt like I was about to fall. To faint. To vanish inside myself.

And then, like a whisper at the edge of consciousness: How does he know my name?

That was the last thought I had before everything went black.