Opal barely heard the rest of Caesar's words. The blood drained from her face, her grip tightening around the stake in her hand.
"He knows."
The realization hit her harder than anything ever had. Caesar knew what she had done.
And he had brought them with him.
She glanced at the men surrounding her—towering figures, their piercing eyes inhuman, their presence overwhelming. They weren't just vampires or werewolves. They were killers.
Opal barely heard the rest of Caesar's words. The blood drained from her face, her grip tightening around the stake in her hand.
"He knows."
The realization hit her harder than anything ever had. Caesar knew what she had done.
And he had brought them with him.
She glanced at the men surrounding her—towering figures, their piercing eyes inhuman, their presence overwhelming. They weren't just vampires or werewolves. They were killers.
And she was trapped.
After that night at the funeral, Opal had been unraveling.
Caesar's speech had planted a seed of paranoia in her mind, one that had grown with every passing day. She started watching her surroundings, double-checking her locks, keeping tabs on James, Derek Jr., and even Derek Sr. She became stricter, making sure they always followed her rules—no unnecessary trips, no late nights out, no wandering too far.
Derek Sr. noticed immediately.
"What is going on with you?" he had asked one night as she checked the front door's lock for the third time.
"Nothing," she had replied too quickly, forcing a smile.
"Opal, don't do that." He exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his tone. "You've been acting different. You barely talk to me, you're up all night, you barely eat. I feel like I don't even know what's going on in your head anymore."
"I'm fine," she insisted, standing from the couch.
"No, you're not," he snapped, standing too. "I get it—everyone has secrets, but you don't have to go through everything alone. You're not alone anymore. You have me."
She swallowed hard, hating that she was pushing him away, but she couldn't stop herself. If he knew what she had done—if he knew she had killed someone—he would look at her like she was a monster.
And she couldn't bear that.
So instead of letting him in, she did what she had always done—she shut him out.
"Derek, just drop it," she muttered, turning toward the stairs.
"Drop it?" His voice rose. "How am I supposed to drop it when you're lying to me? You're keeping something from me, and I know it. I feel it."
She clenched her jaw. "People have secrets, Derek. Yes, when you're in a relationship, it's nice to know you can come to your partner, but sometimes you just have to handle things on your own."
Silence.
Derek stared at her, hurt flashing across his face.
Then, he shook his head.
"Fine."
That was the night he started sleeping on the couch.
Days passed. Then weeks. The tension between them didn't ease—it thickened.
Derek Sr. began going out more. He met up with his friends, confiding in them about how he felt like a failure. How he felt like he was doing a terrible job as a partner, as a father figure. How Opal made him feel like he wasn't enough.
And Opal?
She felt drained.
Between the paranoia, the weight of her secret, school, and taking care of James, she was barely holding herself together. One morning, instead of driving to class, she decided to walk. Maybe the fresh air would help clear her mind.
She followed the path she used to take, the one that led her through the alley.
It was supposed to be familiar. Safe.
But then, she saw it.
A figure at the end of the alley, unmoving, watching.
Her heartbeat spiked.
"Hello?" she called out hesitantly. "Why are you just standing there?"
No response.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"I'm just being paranoid. I'm seeing things."
But when she opened them—the figure was gone.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She forced herself to walk forward, but when she reached the middle of the alley, something darted across her path.
Fast.
Too fast.
She whipped her head to the right, then the left—another blur of movement. Something, someone, was running back and forth, impossibly quick.
Her stomach dropped.
This wasn't paranoia.
This was real.
She turned, heart hammering in her chest, but before she could run—she collided with something solid.
Someone.
She stumbled back, looking up at a towering man—six-foot-five, draped in a long black cloak.
Her breath hitched. His eyes—they glowed.
"I—I'm sorry," she stammered. "Can I get past you?"
He didn't move. Didn't blink.
A cold dread crawled down her spine. She sprinted past him, her feet slamming against the pavement, but—
"Whoosh."
The man appeared in front of her, standing at the alley's exit.
She skidded to a stop, heart slamming against her ribs.
"What are you?" she demanded.
A voice behind her chuckled.
"He's a vampire, love."
She whipped around—another man stood there, dressed in the same black cloak. But his eyes weren't red like the first man's.
They were orange.
Opal's stomach clenched.
She went to run again, but before she could, three more figures appeared, blocking every escape route.
Her breathing turned shallow. Trapped.
One of the men spoke, voice deep and smooth.
"What do you want us to do with her, boss?"
Opal's fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. Her stake.
"Wow," another man mused. "You're gonna try to kill us all?"
She knew that voice.
Her heart stopped.
She turned slowly.
"Caesar?" she breathed.
A slow smirk curled across his lips. "Ahh... now what should we do with you?"
The other men stepped aside as he walked toward her.
Opal's mind raced. This couldn't be happening.
She forced herself to swallow her fear. "Who are they? What are you doing with them?"
Caesar's smirk didn't falter. "Let me introduce my pack," he said smoothly, gesturing to the men around him. "This is Nikolai, Felix, Tobias, and Dorian. They're werewolves and vampires."
Her stomach twisted. A pack of hybrids.
He met her gaze, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something dark.
"How did you meet them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
His smirk widened. "You don't remember?"
And then, she did.
One of the last conversations they ever had.
The night he told her about Yuri's pack. The pack his father had once been a part of. The pack he had left to find.
"You're... you're one of them now," she realized.
Caesar's smirk finally faded. His expression turned unreadable.
And then—
"I know what you did, Opal."
The world tilted.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her vision blurred at the edges.
Caesar took a step closer. "I know you killed her."
Silence.
Pure, suffocating silence.
Then, Caesar tilted his head, eyes locked onto hers like a predator sizing up its prey.
"And now," he murmured, "what should I do with you?"