Paisley helps Adrian with his shower, showing him how to use shampoo and body wash. She cuts his long hair and dresses him in a set of her father's old pajamas. After preparing the room, she reheats some leftover pasta from her dinner and sets the table. She knows the meal isn't much, but at least it's something.
"Aunt—" Adrian starts, but stops himself, covering his mouth.
Paisley looks at him, pulling out a chair. "Sit down, it'll be cold tonight."
He nods and sits beside her, and she divides the meal between them. Adrian stares at the food, unsure of what to do, and touches the pasta with his hands.
"Don't use your hands," Paisley gently corrects, showing him how to use a fork. Adrian mimics her movements, observing closely as she teaches him.
Seeing how thin and frail he is, Paisley quietly gives him the rest of her portion. Adrian eats quickly, as if he hasn't had a decent meal in days. She watches him quietly, hearing the wind howl outside as the snowstorm rages on.
Suddenly, Adrian winces, his lips bleeding slightly. He looks at her in a panic, unsure of what he did wrong. Her gaze shifts to the apple in his hand—he must have tried to eat it with his fork like the pasta.
Without a word, Paisley picks up her apple and takes a bite with her hand, showing him how it's done. Adrian, understanding now, follows her example, eating the apple properly. They continue to eat in silence until the meal is finished.
"If you're done, go to bed," she says.
Adrian tilts his head, confused. "Bed?"
Paisley says nothing and leads him to the room. She points to the bed, showing him how to climb in and use the blanket. Adrian's eyes light up with curiosity as he settles into the soft mattress, a new experience for him.
"This is bed," she explains. "You lie down and cover yourself with the blanket. Show me you understand."
Adrian tentatively climbs into the bed, his face lighting up with a smile as he gets comfortable. Paisley pulls the blanket over him.
"Good night," she says softly.
"Good night," Adrian replies, his eyes full of gratitude.
Paisley leaves the room, checking the windows to ensure they're closed tightly against the storm. The cold is biting, and the wind grows fiercer, making the house feel even more vulnerable. After tidying up the house, she returns to her room, sitting at her small desk. Her forehead is bandaged, but the ache in her head lingers. Her stomach rumbles, reminding her that she hadn't eaten enough herself. Exhausted, she lays her head on the table, staring at the family photo beside her. Tears quietly fall as the weight of her responsibilities sinks in. She's tired—tired of struggling, tired of feeling alone.
Eventually, Paisley drifts into a restless sleep, but the sound of banging on her door wakes her suddenly in the middle of the night. Grabbing a small knife, she moves cautiously toward the door, her heart racing. Opening it slightly, she's startled when Adrian rushes in, hugging her tightly.
"I'm scared," he cries. "There's a monster outside!"
Paisley freezes at the unexpected contact, unsure of how to respond. Physical affection has always been foreign to her, something she longed for but never received growing up. She gently pulls away and leads him to sit on her bed.
"There's no monster," she reassures him softly. "It's just a storm. You're safe."
Adrian's grip on her sleeve tightens. "It's huge, like in my book!"
Realizing his fear runs deep, she pours him a glass of water, trying to soothe him. But then she notices his eyes fixed on the window, wide with terror. Turning to look, she gasps—a shadow moves outside, too large to be anything ordinary.
**A wolf? In this storm?** She steps toward the window, but Adrian clings to her, shaking his head in fear.
"It's fine," she tries to calm him. "It's probably just a tree's shadow. No wolf would be out in this weather."
But before she can finish, a loud bang rattles the window, and it swings open. A large wolf, its eyes glowing with intensity, stands in the frame, its presence filling the room with a sense of danger.
"Finally," the wolf growls, its voice menacing. "I've been waiting for this."
Paisley's blood turns cold. This isn't just any wolf—it's a dominant Alpha, and it's focused on her. She steps back, heart pounding in her chest.
"Run," she whispers to Adrian, pushing him toward the door. "Go to your room and lock the door."
But Adrian stands frozen in place, too scared to move.
The wolf steps forward, its gaze never leaving her. "I've had my eye on you for a long time. Tonight's the night."
The words send a chill down her spine, and recognition dawns on her. "Uncle Stefan?" she whispers, stepping back in shock.
The wolf grins. "You remember me. Good."
Paisley's body shakes as memories from her childhood flood back. Stefan had always made her uncomfortable, but her parents had never intervened. Now, the fear she thought she'd left behind resurfaces with full force.
"Please, leave," she stammers, tears welling up in her eyes. "Just go away."
Stefan steps closer. "I've waited years for this moment."
Desperation seizes her, and she grabs the knife, hurling it toward him, but it does nothing. He steps forward, undeterred.
Just as his hand reaches out, something unexpected happens—his hand begins to disappear, turning to ash before her eyes.
"What…?" Stefan stares at his hand in disbelief as it continues to disintegrate.
A cold voice echoes through the room. "Stop."
Paisley turns to see Adrian, his eyes glowing a bright gold. Before she can comprehend what's happening, Stefan's entire body turns to ash, disappearing completely.
"Adrian… what did you do?" Paisley whispers, trying to process what she just witnessed.
Adrian collapses to the floor, his golden eyes fading. "Did I… kill him?" His voice trembles with fear. "Am I a monster? Are you going to hate me? I didn't mean to… I'm sorry."
He sobs, his small frame trembling as he begs for forgiveness.
Paisley sits there, frozen. She doesn't know what to say, or how to react. But one thing becomes clear: Adrian isn't an ordinary wolf.
He's a Lycan.