I entered the house, finding Dad seated on the couch, patiently awaiting my arrival. The ambient lights danced, casting ominous shadows on his face, intensifying the gravity of the moment. A palpable tension hung in the air, nearly suffocating the room. "Hey honey, take a seat," he uttered with a calm demeanor, yet the worry line etched deep on his forehead betrayed an underlying concern.
Inhaling deeply, I settled into the chair opposite him. "Do you know what I want to talk about?" I inquired in a hushed tone.
He offered a simple nod. "Yes, I've been made aware."
Made aware? How? When?
"Angel, there's a lot of things that I haven't told you. I-I've just been waiting for the right time, and I hope you don't hate me for this," he began, his words hesitant and weighted with a mix of remorse and apprehension.
I held my breath. My heart pounded so fiercely that it felt as if it could explode at any moment. An overwhelming fear gripped me as I awaited the next words from his lips. Was he going to tell me something like he had murdered someone in Colorado, and we've been on the run this entire time? That would explain the constant relocation, but it still left me puzzled about my schoolmates' awareness and their cryptic comments regarding the incident in the woods.
He nervously rubbed the back of his shiny, bald head. "Uhhh, where do I start... please try to keep an open mind. Are you ready?" I simply nodded. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before redirecting his attention to me. I could sense his nervousness about my reaction. "Angel, we are werewolves," he stated, pausing to gauge my response.
I burst out laughing. "Dad, what the hell? I thought this was supposed to be a serious conversation." I anticipated his serious demeanor to shift, imagining he would join in my laughter, but it never did. My amusement swiftly transformed into annoyance. "What is wrong with you? Are you doing drugs or something now? Is that why we moved here? Do you owe a drug dealer in Colorado a lot of money?" I shouted. I knew we were going through hard times, but I never thought my dad would turn to drugs to help him cope. Was this what everyone else had been hiding from me?
He put his hands up. "Please...let me explain." My blood was boiling now, but I grew silent, determined to continue listening to the nonsense he was spewing.
"Your mother and I grew up here in the same pack, the Wintercrest Nightwalkers. Your mom was dating someone else when we turned eighteen and found out that we were mates. Of course, she broke it off with him, and after a few months, she became pregnant with you. When he found out, he was furious and attacked her while I was on a run, nearly killing both of you. He was sent into exile by Alpha Damien, but he began recruiting rogues from other packs to join him. A few years after you were born, he took vengeance on our pack. So many died that night..." He paused, and his breathing became shaky. I reached over, gently patting his back. Despite my disbelief, it was evident that he struggled to revisit these painful memories. This was much worse than I thought; he was obviously smoking something a lot stronger than weed.
He continued with the story, "To keep you and the rest of the pack safe, she surrendered herself as his prisoner. She rejected me first and forced me to accept it, which was the most painful thing I have ever gone through, but it was necessary for our connection to be severed. I wouldn't be able to feel her emotions or her pain...I wouldn't be able to follow her scent and find her...the Moon Goddess would give me another chance at love."
I sat there in stunned silence. Was this for real? There was no way he was just f*****g with me, right?
"Even in her darkest moments, she worried for you. She made me promise that I wouldn't tell you about our world until you turned eighteen, so you could have a regular childhood without living in fear, even if it meant that you would grow up thinking she just abandoned us. I guess I am cutting it a little close, huh?"
"W-Why eighteen?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and fear. The room seemed to close in around us as the weight of the revelation settled on my shoulders, leaving me with more questions than answers.
"It's inevitable that by midnight on Friday, you'll shift for the first time and get your wolf," he answered, his voice measured but tinged with a heaviness that mirrored the gravity of his words.
I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief, as if he had just uttered a sick joke. "Shift? As in change into a wolf?"
He nodded, and I could see the weight of his confession settle in the lines of his face. He waited, watching for my reaction. "So, you're saying that on my birthday, I am going to become a giant dog, and there's no way I can stop it? Am I going to be stuck like that?" I asked, my breath quickening, fear consuming me. The reality of the impending transformation struck me, and I felt the urgency of the ticking clock—I only had three days until it happened.
When would he have told me if I hadn't confronted him? How painful would the change be? Images of the wolf I encountered the previous night flashed in my mind. Was that a normal wolf, or were there more werewolves out there? How did Dante and the others know about my dad? The room seemed to close in as a multitude of questions surged, and I struggled to grapple with the profound implications of my newfound reality.
"I'm so scared Dad, this is way too much to process," I admitted, my voice breaking. He grabbed my hand, rubbing a rough thumb across my knuckles in a soothing manner.
"I know honey, I'm sorry that I waited so late to tell you. I was going to tell you last night, but I just couldn't find the courage."
Furrowing my brow, I began to piece things together. The wolf from last night looked like it was on steroids. It couldn't have been a mere coincidence that my dad showed up as soon as it disappeared. I looked at him, and immediately, guilt was written all over his face. "No!" I shouted, jumping off the couch. "You were the wolf from last night?"
He averted his gaze from me to the ground. I immediately felt betrayed. Opening up and crying in front of him was an extremely intimate moment for me; I hadn't shed tears in years, and now our relationship was forever tainted.
Turning around, I ran out the door with tears streaming down my face. Dad didn't chase after me. I jumped into my car and sped off, not even knowing where I was headed so late at night. I drove aimlessly for twenty minutes before pulling over on the side of the road. Glancing at my phone, I saw that my dad had texted me:
I still have a lot to explain, but I know you need time to process everything so far. Remember, not too much time. Please come back soon. Love you.
I threw my phone onto the passenger's seat and burst into tears, laying my head on the steering wheel. The weight of the truth bore down on me, and I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that this was my reality now. Everything I had ever known was a lie. Did I even know my father? The sense of betrayal left me feeling lonelier than ever before, lost in a world that suddenly seemed alien and unfamiliar.