—(Mark)—
I woke up to knocking at my door. It was the same knocking that had woken me up the day after I was turned. I knew who it was just by that. I was still mad at James for making Lyla be the one who picked me up. I knew he just wanted to be updated on where I was in my recovery, but couldn't he have just waited until after the party?
I knew I had to answer the door; I couldn't ignore the alpha. It wasn't a compulsion that made me open the door, but I respected the man too much to simply ignore him. He'd saved my life, even though it sometimes felt like he stole it at the same time.
I begrudgingly got up from my bed and opened the door. The door slowly opened, but I had already moved to my stuff and started to get dressed for a morning run.
"No good morning?" James jokingly said.
I gave him a deadpan look.
"Look, we both know that you would have been mad even if I had made Lyla do a session with you after the party."
"So?"
"Ay, we moved up from silent treatment to one-word responses—progress! And now you have until the evening to get into a better mood for Noah's birthday party," he stressed Noah's name out.
"You're right. I don't want to attend Noah's party in a downcast mood." I started to walk past James to exit my room, and he stopped me.
"I know you have a few questions for me, and I was wondering if you wanted to ask me now or when we set up camp tomorrow night."
I took a minute to decide that now was best to ask the more important questions. I didn't want Noah to overhear anything that might be off-putting.
James took a minute to change into something more comfortable for running. We started to run the trails and ended up on a hill peak, where we took a seat on a log.
"Okay, this looks like a good spot to have that Q&A," he said, motioning for me to speak.
"Do you have any idea what attacked me?" I asked something I had been afraid to do for a long time.
"From what I can tell, it was probably another werewolf from some other pack. You might have wandered into its path, or it could have been hunting humans," he told me straight.
"We hunt humans?" I asked in a shocked voice.
"WE don't, but there are packs that do hunt humans for sport. We try to cull any rogue wolves when they crop up. They attract hunters."
"Hunters?"
"Yeah, there are people who hunt the supernatural/paranormal—whatever term you feel like using. Usually, they live by some type of code. Some are ruthless; some are more lenient. It depends on where you are in the world."
"And who are the hunters around this part of the world?"
"The hunters from this part of the world follow the Argent family code: 'We hunt those who hunt us.' Our pack has crossed paths with them once or twice. It was under neutral terms, but things were still tense."
"Are you sure there isn't a pack in Beacon Hills?"
"There is one pack near there, but they are Buddhists, so they won't cause any problems for you. The last active pack that called that place home was the Hales, but a house fire practically wiped them out."
"One last question," I began, trying to piece together something that had been bugging me for a while. "Why did I get so much bigger than the other guys in our pack? I'm almost your size."
James looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. "That's a tough question to answer, honestly. Most people do gain a bit of height and mass when they are turned, but not to the extent that you did. The reason that I am this big is that my family line can be traced back to one of the first werewolves, and my family typically married within other 'family lines' that could trace their roots back as well."
"So what is this, some Harry Potter pureblood bullshit theory?" I asked, half-jokingly but also genuinely curious.
James chuckled. "Partly. What do you know about your family name, Ambrose?"
"That it's derived from the Greek word 'ambrosia,' the drink of the gods or something," I replied.
"What's to say that your family isn't connected to its origin?" James suggested, raising an eyebrow.
I stared at him, processing what he was implying. "Are you saying that my family name has stayed the same for hundreds of years and that I'm somehow getting the benefits of the drink of the gods?"
James shrugged. "Well, you're a werewolf."
"Valid point," I conceded.
James continued, "It's not as far-fetched as it sounds. Supernatural truths are deeply intertwined with various ancient myths and legends. The Ambrose name could have ties to a lineage that carries unique traits, perhaps even something as significant as a connection to ambrosia. This might explain why you experienced such a dramatic change."
I nodded slowly, starting to see the bigger picture. "So, if my family name has these ancient roots, it could mean that the transformation affected me more because of some dormant genetic trait?"
"Exactly," James confirmed. "It's possible that the werewolf gene, combined with your family's ancient lineage, although diluted, triggered a more pronounced transformation in you."
"But why didn't anyone in my family mention this before?" I wondered aloud. "Why didn't my parents ever talk about this?"
"It's likely that they didn't know. On occasion, the child of a supernatural is born human and abandoned, only left with a surname," James said. "Or perhaps the knowledge was lost over generations. Many families with supernatural roots have lost their histories due to various reasons—persecution, wars, secrecy."
I let out a breath, feeling a mix of awe and confusion. "This is a lot to take in."
James smiled reassuringly. "I know it is. But understanding your roots can help you understand yourself better. You may have a unique heritage, and that can be a source of strength."
I nodded, feeling a newfound sense of identity. "Thanks, James. This actually makes me feel a bit better about everything."
"Anytime," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "Now, let's focus on making this weekend great for Noah. You've got a lot to look forward to."
We headed down the trail back to the cabin, where I took a shower and put on the nicer clothes I had. I surfed the web, waiting until it was time for us to leave.
When the time arrived for us to make the short drive to my parents' house, James knocked on my door. I quickly grabbed my gift for Noah and dragged James to the car so we could get there on time.
and we set off.