The night deepened as Ethan sat on his bed, Amelia's words still echoing in his mind. The quiet hum of the campus outside did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside him. He knew he was different—different from the other werewolves, different from even the Red Hoods who came before him. But that difference was a double-edged sword, a burden he had carried alone for so long.
The Red Hood within him stirred, sensing his turmoil. *You're stronger than they know, Ethan. Stronger than even you realize.*
Ethan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I don't want to be strong," he muttered to himself, though he knew the Red Hood could hear him. "I just want to live a normal life."
*Normal is for the weak,* the Red Hood hissed, its voice growing more insistent. *You are not like the others, Ethan. You never have been. The power of the Red Hoods flows through your veins, but you are more—much more.*
A sudden wave of memories crashed over Ethan, memories he had tried to suppress. He remembered the stories his father used to tell him, tales of the Red Hood family's unmatched power, their ability to transform into the fiercest werewolves the world had ever seen. But even in those stories, there was always a sense of fear—a fear of what that power could do if it ever went unchecked.
Ethan was the culmination of generations of strength and ferocity, but there was something else within him, something that made him even more dangerous. Unlike the Red Hoods who came before him, his power wasn't just inherited—it was amplified, magnified to an extent that terrified even him. He could feel it every time the Red Hood tried to surface, a raw, uncontrollable force that threatened to consume him if he ever fully unleashed it.
"No one can defeat me without my genes," Ethan whispered, the realization dawning on him. "Not the Silver Fangs, not the Blood Moon Pack, not even the Nightshade Order. I'm not just another Red Hood—I'm the last, and I'm the strongest."
The Red Hood's voice rumbled with satisfaction. *You're finally starting to understand, Ethan. You are the apex predator, the one they all fear. That's why they want your genes—they know that without them, they can never match your power. But with them...* The voice trailed off, leaving the dark implications hanging in the air.
Ethan stood up, pacing the room as he tried to process everything. If what the Red Hood said was true, then he was a walking weapon, a prize that every werewolf clan in existence would stop at nothing to claim. The thought made his skin crawl.
But there was more. Ethan had always suspected that his power was different, stronger, more uncontrollable. But hearing it confirmed, knowing that he was potentially the most powerful werewolf in existence—it was overwhelming.
*You can't hide from this forever,* the Red Hood continued, its tone almost coaxing now. *You need to accept what you are, embrace it. Only then can you truly protect yourself—and those you care about.*
Ethan stopped, staring out the window at the moonlit campus below. "And what happens when I lose control?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What happens when you take over completely?"
*Then you become what you were always meant to be—a force of nature, unstoppable, unchallenged. But that doesn't have to mean destruction, Ethan. You can learn to control it, to use it. But you need me to do that.*
Ethan shivered, the thought of surrendering to the Red Hood's power both terrifying and tempting. He knew that if he let the Red Hood out, there would be no going back. But the alternative—being hunted, used, and possibly destroyed by the other clans—was equally terrifying.
As if sensing his resolve weakening, the Red Hood pressed on. *The Silver Fangs, the Blood Moon Pack, the Nightshade Order—they're all afraid of you, Ethan. They know they can't defeat you as you are, so they'll try to weaken you, to take what makes you strong. They want your genes because they know that with them, they might stand a chance. But without them, they're nothing compared to you.*
Ethan's thoughts drifted back to Amelia's visit. She had warned him, offered to help him control his power, but even then, he could sense her fear. Not just of the other clans, but of him. She knew what he was capable of, and that knowledge was dangerous. If she truly believed that her clan could control him, she was gravely mistaken.
But what if she was telling the truth? What if the Silver Fangs really did want to help him? What if he could learn to control his power, to keep the Red Hood in check without losing himself?
*You can't trust her,* the Red Hood growled, its tone darkening. *She'll turn on you the moment it benefits her clan. They all will. You're a means to an end, Ethan. Don't forget that.*
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Maybe you're right," he said, his voice cold. "But I won't let them take me without a fight."
The Red Hood's laughter echoed in his mind, a deep, menacing sound that sent shivers down Ethan's spine. *Good. That's the spirit. But remember, Ethan, when the time comes, you'll need me. And when that time comes, you'll have to make a choice—either let me out and embrace what you are, or be devoured by those who seek to destroy you.*
Ethan didn't respond. He knew the Red Hood was right, but that didn't make the decision any easier. The power within him was both a gift and a curse, a burden he had to bear alone. But as much as he feared what he could become, he feared the alternative even more.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan steeled himself. The time for doubt was over. He needed to prepare for what was coming, and that meant confronting the truth about his power. He was the last of the Red Hoods, the most powerful werewolf to ever live—and that made him both the ultimate predator and the ultimate prey.
As he stood there, staring out into the night, Ethan made a silent vow to himself. He would survive, no matter what it took. He would protect those he cared about, even if it meant embracing the darkness within him. And when the time came, he would show the world just how powerful the last Red Hood truly was.