Missing two weeks of medical school in the very beginning of the first year was not a wise choice. Everyone else was making friends, keeping up with professors, and finding their rhythm. Damian, however, was locked in a private war no syllabus could have prepared him for. Between struggling to contain the monster that now lived beneath his skin and forcing himself to care about anatomy lectures, Damian chose—no, was forced to choose—the monster.

Aiden had messaged him constantly. Sometimes four or five texts in a row, pinging his phone until Damian had to silence it. He had even dropped by the house multiple times, knocking, calling out, waiting for an answer that never came. Each time Damian watched from behind the curtains, his chest tightening with guilt. How could he explain to his best friend that he had been bitten by an Alpha, that he should have died but instead had turned into something else, something wrong?

A Beta.

The word tasted bitter.

At night, when the ache in his bones was too much and his skin crawled with an itch he couldn't scratch, Damian thought about quitting medicine altogether. Maybe he should have opted for law, like Alden and Xander, where the sight of blood wasn't woven into the fabric of every lesson. There was no way he could continue as a doctor, not when the copper-sweet scent of blood stirred something primal in him now... something dangerous. The very idea of dissecting cadavers or handling scalpels made his stomach twist, not from disgust but from fear of what he might become in that sterile room with blood in the air.

The truth he now carried was far too dangerous to reveal.

The changes had begun subtly. A whisper of heightened senses, like an echo in the back of his mind that grew louder each day. At first it was exhilarating, like stepping into a sharper, brighter version of the world. He could hear the flutter of a moth's wings outside his window and smell the faint trace of rain miles away, carried on a breeze through the half-open pane. He could see details he'd never noticed before—the faint pulse in a stranger's neck, the shifting tension in someone's shoulders that revealed their mood before their mouth did.

It should have been beautiful. Instead, it terrified him.

Because along with the clarity came hunger.

Not for food, though he ate double his usual portions and was still restless afterward, but for movement, for release, for something wild and unnameable. His body thrummed with energy, vibrating like a string pulled too tight. Sleep no longer came easily. When it did, he woke drenched in sweat, his sheets tangled, the taste of blood—imagined or real—thick in his mouth.

Damian had caught himself staring at people differently. Watching the jogger on the sidewalk, not because she was pretty, but because he could hear the way her lungs strained, smell the salt of sweat on her skin, sense the hammering of her pulse as though it called to him.

He hated himself for it.

No textbook had ever warned him about this: the fracture between who he was and what he was becoming. Damian had always thought of himself as rational, measured, the boy who stayed calm when everyone else panicked. But this... this new thing clawing beneath his ribs was not rational. It was instinct and hunger and violence pressed into his marrow.

When he looked into the mirror, he could almost see it. His reflection still looked like him, same dark eyes, same tired face, but something lingered beneath the surface. A faint glow in the pupils when the light hit wrong. A tension in the jaw that hadn't been there before. He would stare for too long, gripping the edge of the sink, half-expecting the thing inside him to grin back.

Sometimes, it did.

The worst part wasn't the strength, or the senses, or even the hunger. It was the loss of certainty. For the first time in his life, Damian didn't know who he was. Was he still the boy who had worked so hard to get into medical school, who had dreamed of saving lives? Or was he just a monster pretending at normalcy until the mask cracked?

Later that day, Damian sat at the dining table, his books spread open but untouched. The words on the page blurred into meaningless lines, his sharpened senses too distracted by the drip of the faucet in the kitchen, the hum of the ceiling fan.

Elias leaned against the doorway, arms folded. He had been watching him for a while before he finally spoke.

"You fought hard for medical school," Elias said evenly. "You spent years preparing. And now, two weeks in, you've missed more classes than you've attended. Why?"

Damian didn't look up. He shifted a pencil between his fingers, trying to appear calm. "I just... needed some time. Adjusting is harder than I thought."

Elias's voice softened, but his eyes were sharp. "No. This isn't just about adjusting. You were so certain, Damian. More certain than anyone I've ever seen. Now you avoid lectures, avoid your friends, avoid... everything."

A muscle ticked in Damian's jaw. He wanted to argue, to dismiss it, but the words wouldn't come. The truth pressed against his teeth, threatening to spill. Instead, he muttered, "It's complicated."

For a moment, Elias studied him in silence. He didn't push further, though the disappointment and concern lingered in the air like smoke. Finally, he straightened.

"Aiden is outside in the living room, waiting for you," Elias said quietly. "He's been asking for you again. If you can't explain it to me, at least talk to him."

Damian froze, the pencil snapping in his grip. His heart lurched at the thought of facing Aiden, the one person who knew him too well, who might see past the cracks.

The wolf inside stirred, restless.

Damian lingered in the dining room, every muscle stiff, hoping if he stayed still enough Aiden might just leave. But Elias's words hung heavy, and he knew avoiding his friend forever wasn't possible. With a slow breath, Damian pushed back his chair and walked into the living room.

Aiden was there, sprawled on the couch like he owned the place, his leg bouncing with restless energy. The moment he saw Damian, he stood, his expression shifting from irritation to relief.

"Finally," Aiden said. "Two weeks, Damian. Two weeks of silence. Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

Damian forced a smile, but it was thin, brittle. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Aiden stepped closer. "That's all you've got? You shut me out, ignore my messages, don't answer the door. I thought—hell, I thought something had happened to you. And now you just... sit here like everything's fine?"

Damian's chest tightened. The words stung, not because Aiden was wrong, but because he was so painfully right. The wolf stirred, unsettled by the confrontation. His hearing sharpened until he could count every beat of Aiden's heart, fast and alive, each pulse echoing in his skull.

"I didn't mean to," Damian whispered. His voice sounded foreign even to himself. "Things just... got complicated."

Aiden frowned, studying him. "Complicated how?"

Damian's throat burned. His hands trembled at his sides, nails biting into his palms. He couldn't tell Aiden the truth. He couldn't let him see the monster. But Aiden's steady gaze, the way he leaned forward with that stubborn loyalty, like he wouldn't let go until Damian explained, made the wolf inside twist violently.

His vision sharpened, too sharp, every detail of Aiden's face outlined in painful clarity, the twitch of a vein at his temple, the warmth in his flushed skin, the rush of blood that called to him. Damian's jaw ached, his teeth pressing down with a pressure that bordered on hunger.

"Damian?" Aiden's voice softened now, suspicion creeping in. "You don't look so good. Are you sick?"

Damian's breath came ragged, his chest rising and falling too quickly. He stepped back, but the wolf lunged forward inside him, clawing to take over. The copper-sweet tang of Aiden's heartbeat filled his senses, and before he realized it, Damian's hands curled like claws at his sides.

"Get out," he choked, his voice low, guttural.

Aiden blinked. "What? No..."

"Leave, Aiden!" The words burst out, harsher than he intended, carrying an edge that wasn't entirely human. His pupils flared, the faint gold flickering in them betraying what lurked beneath.

Aiden froze, stunned into silence. His mouth opened, but whatever he meant to say died on his lips when he saw Damian's trembling hands, the raw desperation in his face.

Damian turned away, gripping the back of the couch so hard the wood creaked under his strength. His shoulders shook as he forced the wolf back down, every muscle taut with the effort.

"I don't want to hurt you," Damian whispered, his voice breaking.

The room was thick with silence, Aiden standing just a few feet away, his eyes wide with confusion, and something else. Fear.

For the first time, Damian realized his best friend wasn't just worried anymore. He was afraid of him.

And that hurt worse than anything else.

***

A couple of days later, Damian found himself walking through the crowded college campus, but his mind was elsewhere. The streets and voices around him faded as his thoughts spiraled back to the Alpha, the one who had turned him into something he never wanted to be. His thoughts immediately went to the Blackwood twins, Xander and Alden—the Alpha brothers, heirs of one of the oldest and most potent werewolf families in town. Damian's heart raced at the thought of them. Alden's words from the day before echoed in his mind: "But you'd be wise to watch your back."

Could it be? Had Alden bitten him? Was he responsible for this transformation? The idea made his blood boil, but something didn't add up.

Damian couldn't wait any longer. He had to confront Alden. He had to get answers, even if it meant destroying everything.

Later that afternoon, he found Alden standing by the old oak tree near the edge of campus. The moment their eyes met, Damian knew this confrontation was inevitable. Alden didn't seem surprised, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

"You bit me," Damian said, his voice low, dangerous.

Alden raised an eyebrow, his posture unshaken. "What are you talking about?"

Damian's anger flared, hot and uncontainable. "Don't play dumb with me. You're the Alpha, right? You and your brother, you're the only ones who could've done this."

Alden stepped closer, his gaze steady. "I didn't bite you, Damian. I swear it. My brother and I, neither of us did. We don't bite people."

Damian's stomach twisted. The world seemed to tilt as his mind reeled, the words not aligning with the weight of the truth he felt in his bones. He could still remember the Alpha's scent, sharp and familiar, but now he couldn't place it on Alden.

"I don't believe you," Damian snapped, his fists clenched, his voice thick with frustration. But doubt crept in, making the words falter. "Then who did? Who the hell turned me into this?"

Alden's eyes darkened, his expression shifting. Something deeper was behind his calm exterior, something that made Damian pause.

"I don't know," Alden said quietly. "But I think we need to figure this out together. You're not the only one with questions, Damian."