Chapter 3 — Confrontation and Flight

Liam Carter

Liam’s body ached with an intensity that defied words. His limbs felt foreign, leaden, as if they belonged to someone—or something—else. Fragmented flashes of the clearing replayed in his mind: his mother’s voice piercing through the haze of primal instincts, the warmth of her arms grounding him, the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of losing control. The forest had swallowed them whole, and now, as they stumbled back into the dim sanctuary of their home, the weight of it all bore down on him like a storm cloud refusing to break.

Sara guided him inside, her arm a steady anchor as he leaned on her. The house was cloaked in silence, the ticking clock in the kitchen marking time with maddening precision. The overhead light flickered briefly, casting jagged shadows across the walls. Everything felt fragile, on the brink of shattering.

Liam sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. His nails were normal again—human—but his hands still trembled, a phantom ache echoing where claws had once been. The memory of his transformation clung to him like damp mist, the fear of losing himself gnawing at his chest.

Sara crouched in front of him, her hazel eyes searching his face with a mix of concern and quiet dread. “Liam,” she said softly, her tone steady but trembling at the edges, “I need you to tell me how long this has been happening.”

He didn’t lift his head. His voice, hoarse and raw, felt like it belonged to someone else. “I don’t know... a few weeks? Maybe longer.”

Sara’s breath hitched. She sat back, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. The silence between them thickened, suffocating. When Liam finally raised his head, his green eyes—now dim but still carrying a faint, unnatural glow—met hers. “I didn’t know what was happening,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I thought... I thought I was losing my mind.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line, her composure strained but holding. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Liam let out a bitter, hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Tell you what? That I was blacking out and waking up in the woods, covered in dirt and claw marks, with no idea how I got there? That I kept hearing whispers that wouldn’t stop? What was I supposed to say, Mom? That I’m turning into... into some kind of monster?”

“You are not a monster,” Sara said sharply, her tone brooking no argument. She leaned forward, her hands trembling slightly as she placed them on his shoulders. “You’re my son. And whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Her unwavering resolve cut through his anger, leaving only guilt behind. He nodded weakly, but in his heart, he couldn’t shake the doubt. Could she really help him? Could anyone?

The growl of an engine outside shattered the moment. Sara’s head snapped toward the window, her body tensing like a coiled spring. Liam’s senses prickled with unease, the faint hum of headlights slicing through the dark. The vehicle slowed, its beams casting angular shadows that danced across the room.

“Stay here,” Sara whispered urgently as she rose to her feet.

“No,” Liam protested, his voice tinged with panic. “If something’s out there—”

“Liam.” Her tone was sharp, an edge of fear cutting through her firmness. “You’re in no condition to fight right now. Let me handle this.”

Before he could argue, she grabbed the baseball bat leaning in the corner—a relic of precaution from an older, darker time—and stepped outside, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Liam sat frozen, his breath shallow as an oppressive stillness settled over the house. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to act, to protect her. Forcing himself to his feet, his muscles protesting every step, he crept toward the window. Through the gap in the curtains, he saw her standing in the glow of the headlights, her silhouette rigid with determination.

Two figures emerged from the car, their movements deliberate, predatory. Even from a distance, Liam could feel the wrongness about them, like the air just before a lightning strike. The taller man spoke first, his gravelly voice carrying a cold authority that made Liam’s stomach churn. “We’re looking for someone,” he said. “A boy. About seventeen. Dark hair, green eyes.” He paused, his smile thin and humorless. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we might find him, would you?”

Sara’s grip on the bat tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evenly, her voice betraying none of the fear Liam knew she had to be feeling.

The man’s smile faded, replaced by a look of icy disdain. “Come now, Sara. We both know that isn’t true.”

Sara’s name hit Liam like a blow. They knew her. They knew her name.

The shorter figure stepped forward, his amber eyes gleaming unnaturally in the light. “You can make this easy,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Or we can do it the hard way.”

Sara didn’t flinch. “If you think I’m going to let you hurt my son, you’re sorely mistaken.”

The taller man sighed, almost bored. “Very well.”

It happened in a flash. The shorter one lunged, his movements too fast for human eyes, but Sara was ready. She swung the bat with a precision that spoke of practice, the crack of wood against flesh echoing into the night. The man stumbled back, snarling as his teeth bared—teeth that were far too sharp, far too wrong.

Liam’s heart pounded as he watched, his chest tight with fear and awe. He couldn’t stay here. Throwing the door open, he surged outside, adrenaline drowning out the protests of his aching body.

“Liam, no!” Sara screamed, but it was too late.

The taller man turned toward him, amber eyes narrowing. “There he is,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “The prodigal son.”

A familiar pressure built behind Liam’s eyes, spreading through his body like wildfire. He stumbled, doubling over as the transformation began. His senses sharpened brutally, the night exploding into vivid clarity—the scent of damp earth, the metallic tang lingering in the air, the heat radiating from the hunters.

But with the clarity came chaos. His identity slipped like sand through his fingers, instincts clawing up from a place deep and primal. Protect. Tear. Survive.

The shorter man recovered, his grin widening. “Looks like the pup’s still got training wheels.”

“Stay away from him!” Sara yelled, stepping between them with her bat still raised.

The taller man sighed, raising a hand. Sara gasped as she was yanked backward by an unseen force, her bat clattering to the ground.

“Mom!” Liam roared, his voice distorted and guttural. The sound startled him, but it also gave him focus. Forcing himself through the pain, he stood, his glowing green eyes locking onto the shorter man. A deep growl rumbled from his chest.

“Oh, you want to play?” the man sneered, advancing.

Liam didn’t answer. He lunged.

The world became a blur of snarls and grunts. Liam’s movements were raw and unrefined, driven by instinct rather than skill. Even so, his speed and strength forced the shorter man back, claws raking across flesh and drawing a sharp howl of pain.

But it wasn’t enough. The taller man extended his hand, and a wave of invisible force slammed into Liam, sending him sprawling. His head hit the ground, and the night spun.

“Enough!” the man barked, his voice unnaturally commanding.

Sara scrambled to her feet, her voice trembling but resolute as she shouted, “You can’t have him!”

The taller man smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

In the distance, sirens wailed, piercing through the tension. The man’s expression darkened. “We’re out of time,” he muttered, retreating toward the car.

“This isn’t over,” the shorter man growled, his amber eyes lingering on Liam before he followed.

Sara was at Liam’s side in an instant, helping him sit up. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice thick with worry.

Liam nodded weakly, though his body throbbed and his mind reeled. “What... what were they?”

Her jaw tightened. “Pack hunters,” she said, dread heavy in her voice. “And they won’t stop until they have you.”

Liam’s stomach twisted. “What do we do now?”

Sara’s eyes flicked toward the horizon. “We leave,” she said firmly. “Tonight.”

As they hurried inside to gather what little they could, Liam’s thoughts churned. His life was unraveling, the threads of normalcy ripped away. But as he looked at his mother’s determined face, a flicker of hope sparked in his chest. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.