-- Two Years Later --
Two years had passed since everything happened: Jason and Sabrina's encounter at the hunters' camp, his discovery of the Book of Time, and his father assigning him the mission of attending a human school to keep a closer eye on the hunter threat.
Originally, this mission was supposed to be handled entirely solo, but circumstances changed, and he ended up bringing his best friend, Amber, along for the ride. Secretly, he was profoundly grateful for this; if it hadn't been Amber, the person tagging along would most likely have been Anita.
The years leading up to the present had been nothing short of a headache for Jason and Amber. The local rebels were still unpacified, and their constant, disruptive presence made daily life difficult. They seemed to have made it their personal mission to eliminate Jason, holding him entirely responsible for single-handedly wiping out most of their forces.
One of their recurring tactics involved kidnapping Anita—a recurring annoyance Jason was forced to handle personally, despite genuinely not caring what happened to her.
[[ Flashback: Two Months Ago ]]
Walking through the long, dim corridors of the mountain mansion where his pack resided, Jason kept his eyes closed in silent contemplation. Despite having his vision blocked, he remained acutely aware of every detail of his surroundings.
He found himself dwelling once again on the persistent ache in his abdomen. Although the wound had finally closed into a massive scar, a dull pain flared up from time to time. The scar was shrinking, but the healing process felt agonizingly slow.
Reaching his destination, he stopped in front of his father's study. He knocked a few times, waited for permission, and stepped inside.
"You wanted to see me, Father?" he asked in a thoroughly bored tone.
He had lost the majority of any lingering respect for his father years ago. Whatever deference he still showed was merely the baseline requirement demanded for the Alpha of the pack—and even then, it was minimal.
"Ah, Jason. I'm glad you're finally here. We need to discuss a matter concerning Anita," his father began.
Hearing Anita's name instantly drew a heavy groan from Jason. He knew that whenever his father brought her up, it only meant more unnecessary complications.
"If this is another attempt to convince me to court her, forget it, Father. Like I've said repeatedly, it is never going to happen. Find someone else to entertain her."
"Why do you insist on refusing to even give her a chance? I am certain the two of you would make a wonderful match."
"Because, Father, she wants a docile pet on a leash that she can control. And the last time I checked, I am nobody's dog. I am a proud wolf of our pack; why would I willingly let myself be tied down by someone like her? I want—no, need—a strong partner, not someone like her."
"And you expect to find a strong partner in that Amber? What does she even offer you?"
"Amber is strong, Father, but as I've told you before, she is nothing more than my best friend."
"Look, son, I didn't call you in here to argue. Something has arrived for you."
"And what might that be?"
"A letter."
"I'm sure you've already read it, so just get to the point. Why am I here?" Jason was growing increasingly irritated. Another meeting with his father about Anita was the last thing he wanted after a long day. All he wanted was to return to his quarters and sleep.
"It's about Anita," his father said gravely.
At the mention of her name again, Jason turned sharply toward the door, ready to walk out.
"She has been taken, Jason! The rebels captured her last night!" his father shouted.
"And what, precisely, does that have to do with me?" Jason asked, his voice entirely detached.
"They want you, Jason, and they are using her to get to you."
"Well, that's what happens when someone goes around telling everyone that she is my—and I quote—'mate.' If she hadn't broadcasted that nonsense, she might still be walking around in one piece."
"Jason, enough! I don't care whether you like her or not. She is a member of our pack. You have to deal with this," his father commanded in a matter-of-fact tone.
"So you want me, your own son, to walk straight into an obvious ambush just to rescue her?" Jason's response was ice-cold.
"You and I both know you can handle yourself, Jason. Just resolve this, and everything can go back to normal."
"Normal? Like how you tried to get my best friend killed?" Jason snapped, hitting a raw nerve. The silence that followed was all the confirmation he needed.
"Look, Father, I'll handle it. But I'm not making any guarantees," he muttered, walking out of the room and leaving his father alone with his thoughts.
It wasn't that his father hated Jason; in truth, he only wanted what he believed was best for his son—and in his stubborn mind, that meant a union with Anita.
Leaving the study, Jason headed straight for his quarters. He decided that before dealing with the mess, he needed a hot bath and some real rest. While standing under the spray of the shower, a sudden realization hit him: he had left without actually asking what the ransom letter had said.
The thought of turning back to check crossed his mind, but he instantly dismissed it. Since he wasn't in any rush, reading the specifics felt entirely unnecessary.
After drying off and wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped back into his bedroom. He paused, closed his eyes, and took a slow, deep breath, inhaling the air before letting out a quiet sigh.
"I know you're in here. You can drop the stealth act and get this over with," he called out to the empty room, keeping his eyes shut.
"It's been a while, Jason. How have you been?" a voice echoed from the shadows of the corner.
"Can't complain. Just training, culling rebels—the usual routine," Jason replied with heavy sarcasm.
"Really? I heard things have been quite eventful for you lately, especially around two years ago. How was that little run-in with Count Dracula's daughter?" the figure asked, a curious edge to his tone.
"Let's skip the small talk, Sean," Jason said, prompting a low chuckle from the intruder.
"You're always so dismissive, Jason. Just like when we were kids."
"If you're only here to reminisce, I'm not interested. If that's all, I'm sure you know the way out."
"You're in quite a hurry to dismiss me. I thought you'd want an update on that girl who's always obsessing over you."
"Not really. Whatever you and your crew want to do with her is your problem. If you kill her before I arrive, it doesn't affect me in the slightest."
"You don't really have a choice in the matter, Jason. You and I both know that even if you despise her, you won't just let her die. If she perishes, it creates entirely too many political headaches for you. So, meet me at the old train station in town. We'll talk terms there."
"When are you all going to give up? Aren't you tired of throwing your lives away for nothing?"
"We'll give up when you are dead, Jason—when your blood fills our cups and your head decorates our halls," Sean answered, his voice dripping with venom.
"You said something very similar last time we crossed paths. And yet, here I am."
"Just be there tonight," Sean muttered, still refusing to step out of the dark. "Oh, and by the way... tell Father I said hello."
Before Jason could react, a dark shadow darted past him and vaulted out the open window.
"You're really pushing your luck, big brother," Jason sighed, walking over to the window to watch a lone silhouette sprint into the surrounding treeline.
Despite his apathetic words, Jason knew he had no real choice. Anita's death right now would trigger a chain reaction of political chaos within the pack—trouble he simply didn't have the time or patience to manage.
Adding his older brother, Sean, to the equation made things infinitely more complicated. Jason had no desire to kill or severely injure his brother, but he knew Sean felt no such hesitation.
Sean harbored a deep, burning resentment toward his younger brother, shared by a few of their other siblings. The core of this hatred was simple: Jason was fundamentally stronger, despite being five years younger. Sean viewed that innate power as a direct threat to his claim as the pack's future Alpha, branding Jason an enemy.
At the first opportunity, Sean had betrayed their father, defecting to the rebel faction with the hollow promise that they would secure his position as Alpha once they won the civil war.
Every time their paths crossed, Sean tried—and failed—to eliminate him. Jason possessed an unnatural synergy with his abilities that consistently overwhelmed Sean's training. Frustrated by his own limitations, Sean resorted to desperate measures like kidnapping Anita, knowing she was a constant fixture around Jason, to force a confrontation. Ironically, even Sean couldn't stand her obsessive behavior, but he recognized her value as leverage.
After Sean vanished into the night, Jason took his time preparing. He knew the rebels wanted him specifically, which meant Anita would remain unharmed until he arrived. Confident in his ability to handle his brother and whatever muscle he brought along, Jason dressed and stepped out into the crisp night air.
He took a slow, deliberate pace through the mountain forest, genuinely enjoying the rare, profound silence of the woods.
Reaching the old, abandoned train station a few miles down the mountain, he spotted the flickering shadows of people waiting inside.
"Are you planning on hiding in the dark all night? Because if that's the strategy, I'm turning around," Jason called out into the cavernous room.
"You made better time than expected. Maybe you do care about the girl more than you let on," Sean sneered, stepping out from a darkened archway.
He stood at five-foot-nine, with short black hair and dark eyes—an inch shorter than Jason, a height difference he loathed.
"Where is she?" Jason demanded, cutting straight to the chase.
"Bring her out," Sean ordered.
Two masked rebels emerged from the back rooms, dragging Anita between them. She was tightly bound in heavy chains, with a thick gag muffling her protests.
"Now, onto the reason you're here," Sean continued, puffing out his chest. "You've been a relentless thorn in our paws for years. For us to win this war, you have to be removed from the equation. With you gone, the pack loses its primary muscle. We've tried conventional force, but your unnatural strength keeps bailing you out. So, we had to get creative. Drop to your knees, surrender your life, and we'll let the girl go. If—"
Sean never finished his sentence.
"Wait. That's your grand strategy?" Jason interrupted, a disbelieving smirk crossing his face. "You want me to roll over like an obedient puppy so you can execute me? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? Just how desperate are you? What makes you think I'd trade my life for hers to dodge a few minor inconveniences? And what makes you think I wouldn't just take her back by force?"
Jason shook his head in mock disappointment. "If this is your idea of a family reunion, brother, I don't find it funny. The only reason you're still breathing right now is because we share the same blood."
Hearing those words, Sean snapped. Blinded by fury and wounded pride, he abandoned all tactical thought, driven entirely by the primal urge to rip his brother apart.
His body began to warp and shift. He grew taller, his muscles spasming and skin stretching as a thick coat of dark fur erupted across his frame. His jaw elongated into a vicious, wolf-like snout filled with razor-sharp fangs, and his ears flattened atop his skull.
In moments, Sean was fully transformed into a towering, bipedal beast. Letting loose a thunderous roar that rippled the air around them, he lunged forward at terrifying speed, aiming straight for Jason.
Jason didn't even flinch. As the charging beast closed the distance, Jason stood completely still, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
At the exact microsecond Sean swung to crush his skull, Jason vanished from sight.
Unable to adjust his momentum, Sean barreled forward, smashing violently into a structural support pillar. The concrete wall collapsed inward, burying him under a mountain of rubble and debris.
The two remaining rebel guards froze in sheer terror, their eyes darting from the ruined wall back to the center of the room. Jason stood in the exact same spot he had occupied seconds before, casually lowering his left foot back to the floor. Aside from the hardened, serious glare in his eyes, he looked completely untouched.
Realizing they were outmatched, the two guards panicked and triggered their own partial transformations into wolf-like brutes. They charged together, trying to overwhelm him through sheer coordinated aggression.
It was a fatal mistake. They lacked Sean's raw power and stood no chance.
Jason moved like a phantom. As the first guard closed in, Jason's hand drove straight through his chest, leaving a smoking, gaping hole. The second guard, fueled by blind panic, swung a wild claw—only to have his head severed cleanly from his shoulders in a swift, fluid arc.
A torrent of dark blood sprayed across the floor, splashing over Jason's clothes and face. With the bloodied smirk still plastered across his features and his wild eyes gleaming in the dim light, he looked less like a man and more like a feral monster reveling in a slaughter.
Stepping over the carnage, Jason walked calmly over to where Anita was chained.
"If you keep getting yourself into situations that cause me unnecessary administrative headaches, I'm seriously going to start considering leaving you behind," he muttered, pulling out a small set of keys to unlock her restraints.
"For someone who just survived a kidnapping, you're remarkably unbothered," he noted, glancing down at her.
He hadn't removed the gag yet, but despite everything that had just transpired, she was eerily calm. In fact, she hadn't screamed, fought, or panicked the entire time. She simply knelt there, staring up at him with wide, starry-eyed adoration, looking as though she had just won a grand prize.
Deciding it was better not to question her warped psychology, Jason unlocked the heavy chains and yanked the gag off. The moment her hands were free, she lunged forward, trying to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
Anticipating the move, Jason smoothly sidestepped, letting her grab thin air.
"I don't care how 'grateful' you are—keep your hands to yourself. I've told you a thousand times: I hate being hugged," he snapped, turning his back on her to investigate the rubble pile where his brother was buried.
"You have no idea how terrified I was..." she began, batting her eyelashes.
"Judging by the fact that you look completely unhinged and unfazed, I'm guessing my presence was entirely optional," Jason interrupted, tossing chunks of concrete aside without looking back.
Knowing Sean was resilient, Jason dug through the debris until he finally uncovered his brother's battered, unconscious body trapped beneath a heavy concrete slab.
"Kill him," Anita whispered, stepping up beside him. Her casual tone made murder sound as mundane as picking flowers.
Deciding he had endured quite enough excitement for one evening, Jason turned away. "Let's go home."
He started walking back toward the mountain, leaving Sean buried in the ruins. He knew leaving his treacherous brother alive would inevitably bite him in the future, but he still wasn't ready to cross that final line and patricide/fratricide his own blood.
The journey back to the mansion was uneventful—mostly because Jason had knocked Anita unconscious halfway through the trek to stop her from chattering and gushing over him the entire way back. Dragging her limp form the rest of the distance was, all things considered, a much quieter and more peaceful alternative.