Chapter 4
1085 Words
AURORA’S POV:
I wake up to the sound of rain tapping against my window. For a moment, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, hoping - praying-that yesterday was just a dream.
I had to pop sleeping pills last night because I kept on seeing the eyes of people I didn't want to.
Jon’s claim. Arc’s reaction. The impossible idea that I might be… something else.
But when I sit up, the sinking feeling in my chest tells me the truth.
It wasn’t a dream.
I drag myself out of bed and head downstairs, dreading school, dreading everything.
Ava greets me with a smile as she sets a plate of pancakes on the table. "Morning, sweetheart."
"Morning," I mumble, sliding into my usual seat.
Jon is already at the table, watching me. His gaze is heavy, unreadable. I don’t acknowledge him.
I pretend everything is fine.
I pretend I don’t feel his stare burning into the side of my face.
Halfway through breakfast, he clears his throat. "Aurora-"
"Nope," I interrupt, stabbing my fork into my pancake.
Jon sighs. "You don’t even know what I was going to say."
"I don’t need to. If it’s about the mate thing, I’m not interested."
A muscle ticks in his jaw. "You can’t just ignore this."
I lift my chin. "Watch me."
Ava glances between us, frowning. "Everything okay?"
I force a smile. "Yep. Just a friendly disagreement about… school."
Jon exhales sharply but doesn’t argue.
When I finally escape to the front door, Jon follows.
"Aurora, wait."
I spin around, scowling. "Jon, drop it. I am not some werewolf’s fated mate, and I am definitely not interested in whatever supernatural mess you and Arc are dragging me into."
Jon’s green eyes darken. "You are in it. Whether you want to be or not."
I stiffen. "That sounds like a threat."
He takes a step closer, voice soft but firm. "It’s not. It’s just the truth."
I clench my fists. "I don’t believe in this bond thing, Jon."
His expression flickers-hurt, frustration, something else I can’t place.
"Then explain this," he mutters.
Before I can react, his hand brushes mine.
The second our skin touches, a spark jolts through me-sharp, electric. I gasp, stumbling back.
Jon’s lips press into a thin line. "You felt that."
I shake my head, heart pounding. "It’s just-static or something."
Jon’s eyes bore into mine. "Lying to yourself won’t change the truth."
I don’t respond.
Because I don’t have a response.
I just turn and walk away, my pulse still racing. And for the first time, doubt creeps into my mind.
What if he’s right?
"Wait. What if I can prove it to you that I am actually a werewolf?" His voice comes from behind. I pause in my tracks and turn back to face him.
"How will you do that?" I raise a brow at him.
"The full moon is coming up. In as much as it will be dangerous for you to be around me at that time, I can use a phone to video myself." His eyes pleaded.
"Ok then. I have nothing to loose either ways." After saying that, I walk off not waiting for him to reply.
A week has passed since that conversation, and things between Jon and me have shifted-not dramatically, but enough.
There's an unspoken understanding now, a subtle friendship forming between us. We don’t talk about the mate thing anymore, and I pretend the weird electric shock never happened. I'm glad he has finally gotten the memo.
Jon still watches me sometimes, but not with the same intensity. And I don’t feel as defensive around him. It’s strange—almost unsettling-but at least we’re not at each other’s throats.
Then the night of the full moon arrives.
I toss in bed, unable to sleep. My mind is restless, my thoughts tangled in things I don’t want to think about. The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of the old wooden floors. The clock on my nightstand reads 2:47 AM.
I sigh and sit up. Maybe a glass of water will help.
He said he would record it, right? But how can he record something that is not even going to happen?
Slipping out of my room, I tread down the hallway, my socked feet making no sound against the floor.
There's no harm in seeing him with my own eyes, right? At least, that way he can't pull a stunt with tech on me.
As I pass Jon’s door, something makes me stop. His door is slightly open, just a sliver, but enough for me to hear… something.
A low, guttural sound. Almost like… a growl.
I frown. What the hell?
My pulse quickens. Did he leave his TV on? Is he talking in his sleep?
Before I can overthink it, I push the door open.
And freeze.
Jon isn’t in bed.
He’s ....changing.
His back is hunched, muscles twisting unnaturally beneath his skin. His hands claw at the floor, nails elongating into sharp talons. His breathing is ragged, heavy, animalistic.
My body locks up as his spine jerks, bones cracking and reforming. His clothes are in tatters, barely hanging onto his shifting form.
Then, in one final, sickening crack, his head snaps up.
His green eyes-no, wolf’s eyes-lock onto mine.
A deep, rumbling growl fills the room.
My breath hitches in my throat.
This isn’t static. This isn’t some prank. This is real. Jon-his wolf-takes a slow, deliberate step toward me.
I do the only thing I can think of.
I run.
JON’S POV:
Pain.
Fire in my bones, ripping through me, tearing me apart.
I knew tonight would be bad - I always feel the full moon coming hours before it happens. The itching under my skin, the restless energy, the way my wolf fights for control.
But she - Aurora- wasn’t supposed to see this.
Her scent hit me the second she entered the room, even through the fog of my shifting. My wolf’s instincts kicked in before my human mind could stop it.
I growled. She panicked.
And now she’s running.
I fight the shift, force myself to hold back as my wolf snarls in protest. My claws dig into the floorboards, anchoring me. Don’t chase. Don’t scare her more than I already have.
I hear her footsteps pounding down the hall, then the slam of her bedroom door.
I take a shaking breath, my body still half-wolf, half-human. She knows now.
And there’s no turning back.
- Writer
