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I glanced to Gerald. His expression was pained, making him look decades older. “He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he is.”

My brows furrowed. “What he is?” I repeated, not lowering my gun. “And what is that?”

“A werewolf. Lycanthrope.”

There it was. Gerald was part of it too. Using the Greek title for werewolf—a term that painted them not as simple beasts but as a legendary pack of family animals hunting the unworthy and the wicked. A group of misunderstood monsters who were actually heroes. I knew much better.

“Try again,” I told him. “You’re trying to save your son. I get it. But he’s a murderer. A monster. And if you know, then you’re one too.” I flexed my hand around the gun still aimed in his direction, their deception more painful than a frozen blade, twisting in my chest.

I had no allies. No family. It was my mistake, thinking I did.

“I am,” Gerald agreed freely, eyes burning into mine. “But not like the ones you hunt.”

“That’s what they all say,” I scoffed. “I’m not like the rest. I’m a good heart-eating beast. This isn’t my first rodeo, Gerald.” My eyes blurred as I spat the words. I was disgusted at the tears that I almost couldn’t control. The blow of the truth, the depth of this deceit almost sent me to my knees.

Gerald’s frown deepened as he let out a weary sigh. “I know it isn’t, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” I hissed, shaking my gun. “You don’t get to play the surrogate father routine when you’re a monster, when your monster son killed my parents. And you covered it up. You made me feel fucking crazy when I told you what it was.”

Pain splintered through me as I spat the words, as the memories thrust into the forefront of my mind. Even though I was holding the gun and had the power in this situation, I felt small. Weak.

Real regret and shame painted Gerald’s weathered face. True agony. “I thought I was protecting you from the alternative.” When he rubbed the back of his neck, I reacted to his movement, my gun twitching. He noted it—I saw his eyes widen. Just like he noted that my finger was on the trigger.

Yet he had not put himself in a defensive stance. Hadn’t attempted to draw his own or change into a wolf to tear me apart. It didn’t absolve him. Just made him smart enough to comprehend that he wouldn’t be able to get halfway through either of those things before he was dead on the ground.

Unless he was also enchanted by a demon-blessed witch.

“I regret it, Hadley,” His gaze dropped to his hands, clasped in front of him. “Regret it deeply. But our pack has laws against talking with outsiders⁠—”

“Humans.” I wanted to jam the accurate word down his throat. “Your pack has laws against talking with humans. Which you are not.”

I was thrown for a fucking loop by the fact that packs actually existed, complete with their own laws and structure. I was chomping at the bit to find out more, to understand everything. But not enough to let Gerald paint me a picture. Not enough to let him live.

He smiled sadly. “We’re humans too, Hadley. But I understand, given what you’ve dedicated your life to, that you can only see us as monsters.”

I tilted my head. “Forgive me, but I tend to consider creatures that need to consume the hearts of others to stay alive as monsters,” I snapped sarcastically.

“We don’t eat human hearts,” he corrected. “It’s what sets us apart from the others. We do not harm humans, do not turn them. There is a lot more, but I can’t tell you. What I can say is that our pack has not ended a human life since we settled here.”

More mind-blowing. He was trying to tell me that they settled the freaking town? They as in his family? Or they as in him? Were they immortal? Surely not. I was sure that their lifespans were similar to humans’. I itched to ask these questions, if only to gather information on how to better kill them.

But another pressing matter needed to be addressed first.

“You can believe that your pack hasn’t killed anyone, but Colton has.” I forced my tone to remain even.

Gerald’s face fell, contorted with pain. “He has.” He cleared his throat, the words obviously agony for him to admit.

“And you let him?” I was in absolute disbelief that Gerald had known about this—at least for a while—yet had essentially stood by and watched his son commit murder.

But how could that surprise me? Gerald had lied about everything he was for years. Since I’d known him.

“We do not let him, we’re … powerless to stop him.” His shoulders slumped further, his miserable gaze darting in the direction of his son. I didn’t dare take my eyes off him.

I laughed. “Aren’t you a whole pack? Granted, if you aren’t chomping on human hearts you may not be as strong, but I’m sure you could take him.”

Gerald stared at me, his head slowly shifting from left to right. “And you think I could do that? Kill my own son?”

I pursed my lips, silenced by guilt, by emotion. For just a moment, at least. “Yes,” I stated. “If the alternative is him killing countless sons and daughters for what I can only assume is years, then yes, you can kill your own son.”