—(Mark)—

The summer before my sophomore year, my parents decided they couldn't live with the fact that their precious little boy was no longer little—and no longer human. I think they had more of a problem with the latter. And so, I was sent away to live on my own in the middle of nowhere, a place called Beacon Hills. It wasn't all bad. My parents were generous enough to provide me with a sizable allowance. At 16, I stood 6 feet tall (about 1.82 meters) and still had some growing left to do after being turned. I used to be skinny, but now I was as buff as someone who went to the gym daily. My muscles felt strong and capable, but they also served as a constant reminder of how much I had changed.

The drive to Beacon Hills was pretty boring. My younger brother, Noah, 12 years old, was still avoiding me after the last time I snapped at him. We used to be close, but now he was scared of me, and I couldn't blame him. I wasn't as calm and composed as I used to be; I had a short fuse and was prone to snapping at people. My old friends distanced themselves after my personality shifted, and the isolation only made my temper worse.

As we passed through the woods, I thought about the fresh start I could have. I could reinvent myself and finally get the personal space I desperately needed from my family. Maybe I could even have some semblance of a normal life. My parents had allowed me to choose where I would go, and something about this place drew me in. According to my alpha, James, this place was packless for now. I'd still need to drive back every full moon, but it was doable. The freedom of living on my own was appealing, even though the full moon drives would be a constant reminder of my new reality.

When we pulled up to the small house my parents had bought for me, I saw our neighbor quickly leave the house in a nurse's outfit while her son waved goodbye. The boy looked about my age, and for a moment, I hoped he might become a friend. My parents had decided I would only bring a few sets of clothes, with the rest of my stuff being brought over by a moving company. They moved through the house, making sure everything was in order. Though they were scared of what I had become, I knew they still loved me. They hadn't said it since that day, but I knew. It was in the way they tried to provide for me, even if they couldn't look me in the eyes.

While our parents checked out the house, I moved into the backyard, which opened into the woods. I gestured for Noah to join me.

"You know I didn't mean to snap at you, Noah…right?" I said.

He didn't respond but gave a short nod. His silence hurt, but I understood. The trust had to be rebuilt, not demanded.

We walked for a bit before he paused and turned to me. I stopped and waited for him to speak.

"Do you think things will go back to the way they were?" he whispered.

"I think that changes are a part of life," I replied after a moment. I wanted things to be like they were, but it wasn't possible. Things could never be normal again.

"So, that's a no," he said, cutting through my bullshit attempt at wisdom.

"No, I don't think things will go back to the way they were," I admitted, giving him the answer we both knew.

"Are you still my brother?" he asked.

I froze when the words left his mouth. My heart ached at the thought that he believed he was no longer part of my family. Then, I felt anger that he thought he was no longer part of my pack. He noticed my anger, holding his breath, and I heard his heart start to race. I had caused these reactions. It was my fault he felt this way.

I paused and took a deep breath to control my anger. I was still working on not letting the wolf control my actions.

I bent down to his eye level. He looked away, so I grabbed his shoulders, and he began to shiver.

"Look at me, Noah," I said. He met my gaze.

"You will always be my brother, no matter what happens, and nothing is going to change that," I assured him. He stopped shaking and began to cry. I pulled him into a bear hug. "I am so sorry I ever made you feel like you couldn't trust me or feel like you weren't part of my family."

We made our way back to the house. Our parents stood on the back porch with worried looks. Their faces turned to relief when they saw Noah on my back, tired from walking. Part of me was angry that they thought I would let something happen to Noah. Another part understood they were scared I might harm my little brother.

My mom took Noah inside. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He needed rest, and I hoped that after our talk he might sleep a little easier.

My dad continued to look at me. "I think we need to talk for a moment, Markus," he said. They didn't even use my nickname anymore. It was like they were talking to a stranger.

"I think so too, Dad," I replied with sarcasm. It had the intended effect, and I saw the hurt in his face. We used to be so close, and now he was scared of me.

We walked a bit further into the yard, putting some distance between us and the house. He glanced back at the porch, making sure Noah and Mom were out of earshot. The tension was a silent barrier that neither of us knew how to cross.

"Markus, we're worried about you," he started. His voice was calm, but I could hear the underlying fear.

"I know, Dad," I said, trying to soften my tone. "I'm trying to figure things out."

"It's not just about you anymore," he continued. "We have to think about Noah, your mother, and the safety of our family."

"I would never hurt Noah," I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. "Or anyone else in the family."

"It's not that simple," he replied, shaking his head. "You're different now, and we don't fully understand what that means."

"I'm still me," I insisted. "I'm still your son."

"You're not the same boy we raised," he said, pain evident in his eyes. "We don't know how to help you, and that scares us."

The honesty in his words cut deep. I wanted to argue, to make him see that I was still the same person inside. But part of me knew he was right. I had changed, and I couldn't expect them to accept that overnight.

"I'm trying, Dad," I said quietly. "I'm really trying."

He sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. "We just want you to be safe, Markus. We want all of us to be safe."

"I know," I said "I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you don't have to worry about me."

He looked at me for a long moment, as if searching for the son he used to know. Finally, he nodded. "That's all we can ask."

As he walked back to the house, I stood there, staring into the woods. I knew one thing for sure: I had to find a way to control the wolf inside me. For Noah, for my parents, and for myself.