CHAPTER 83: THE TRUTH BENEATH THE SURFACE

Josie

I stared at the door like it might open and swallow me whole. The hallway was quiet now, but my mind wasn’t. Every heartbeat felt like thunder in my ears. I was still trying to make sense of what just happened—the blood, the bullet, the panic. I closed my eyes for a second, but the image of the waiter collapsing replayed behind my lids.

"It’s all my fault," I whispered.

A hand squeezed mine gently, and I looked up. Kiel was kneeling in front of me, his expression painfully soft, like he didn’t know whether to hold me or let me fall apart.

"If anyone’s to blame," he said, "it’s me."

I turned toward him fully, but Varen had already taken my other hand. They were flanking me like shields, but even that couldn’t stop the guilt gnawing inside my chest.

Kiel’s voice was steady, but there was pain in it. "I should’ve been more careful with Michelle. I let her get too close. I gave her access when I shouldn’t have, and now it’s cost us."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You don’t understand. I just... I endangered someone’s life. A man could die because I went too far. Does that make me a murderer?"

Varen squeezed my hand tightly. "No, Josie. Don’t say that. Don’t even think it."

His words were firm, but I could hear the strain beneath them.

"You need to calm down," he continued. "You’ll only spiral if you keep going like this."

I tried to breathe, but my chest felt heavy. My thoughts darted to the man in the hospital room. A stranger who got caught in a web that I helped spin.

"What if... What if I can help him?" I murmured. "What if my powers could save him?"

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and then the door swung open. A woman in pale scrubs—clearly the doctor—stepped out, her face solemn.

"He’s in critical condition," she said. "Final stage. The bullet did extensive damage. We’re doing everything we can, but he could lose his life at any moment."

My body shot up from the seat. "I need to see him."

The doctor hesitated. "He’s not in a state to talk. And only family are allowed in to say goodbye—"

"I’m the future Luna of this pack!" I snapped. "My presence matters. He can’t die. Not when he might hold the truth."

Her eyes flicked between Kiel and Varen as if silently asking permission. I could see it—the unspoken power dynamics, the way she needed their unvoiced approval even though I had made my position clear.

I hated that I still needed them to validate my authority.

Eventually, she nodded and stepped aside.

When I stepped into the room, the chill hit me first. The beeping machines, the sterile smell, the sight of his pale face—everything screamed of finality.

Varen followed me in. He was quiet, standing a few feet behind as I walked to the bed.

The man looked... broken. Tubes in his nose, machines monitoring his slowing vitals. I didn’t even know his name, but I needed him to speak.

I stood by his side and whispered, "Please. I need you to talk to me. Just tell me the truth."

My voice cracked. I wasn’t sure if I was begging for justice or forgiveness anymore.

Varen stepped closer, his voice low. "You’re quiet. Are you seeing your parents again?"

I blinked. My stomach twisted. I hated lying, hated keeping that story going. But how could I tell him the truth? That the sickness they all thought was draining me was just a cover for a past I had to hide?

I bit my lip and turned away. "No. Not this time."

I looked down at the dying man again. "Just... say something. Please."

Varen’s gaze didn’t leave me. "Josie. What truth are you hoping to find?"

I didn’t look at him when I answered. "The one we’ve been chasing. The one buried in all these lies."

For a moment, there was nothing but the rhythmic beeping and the shallow breaths of the man in the bed. I leaned forward slightly and thought I felt something—a soft breath against my hand, the faintest sign he was listening.

Varen moved beside me, his tone shifting. "With everything that’s happened, I need to know\... who else have you talked to about this? Who’s involved?"

I didn’t answer right away. I stared out the small window, letting the silence stretch between us. My heart was pounding now—not just from the fear, but from the weight of what I was about to say.

"What I want most," I said, "is for my mate to know a bit more about me."

Varen stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

I turned to him, reached out, and took his hand in mine. I led him toward the window, needing the distance from the machines and the dying man. The sun had dipped behind the clouds, casting a gray glow across the room. It matched the uncertainty that wrapped itself around my spine.

"If you ever find out that I’m not a normal werewolf," I said quietly, "will you leave me?"

His eyebrows drew together, but his voice didn’t waver. "Did I reject you when you were an omega?"

I blinked at him. That answer should’ve made me feel better, but it only made me more anxious.

"So why," he continued, "would you think I’d do that now?"

I swallowed hard. My palms were sweating.

"I can make the earth heal... or die," I whispered. The words felt foreign coming out of my mouth, like they didn’t belong to me, even though I’d carried them inside for so long. "It’s not just a power. It’s deeper than that."

I waited for him to react. For his eyes to widen, for disbelief or fear to flash across his face. But he just looked at me with quiet acceptance.

"You don’t seem surprised," I said slowly. "Why do you look like you already knew?"

He didn’t hesitate.

"Because I did."

That one sentence hit me like a slap. My breath caught in my throat.

"You... knew?" I asked, the words trembling on my tongue.

He nodded, and something shifted in my chest. Panic. Confusion. Maybe even betrayal.

He knew.

And that made me even more nervous.