Chapter 36

The overhead lights buzz faintly, casting a sterile pallor across the beige walls and faded furniture. The air smells of antiseptic and something older—something dying. Machines hum softly in the corner, monitors blinking with slow, steady pulses.

Gerard Argent sits slumped in a wheelchair near the window, a worn blanket draped over his lap. His skin is pale, waxy, clinging to bone. Tubes snake from his nose, oxygen hissing in time with his labored breath. A coughing fit overtakes him—deep, rattling, violent.

He doubles forward, trembling. Blood spatters into a wrinkled tissue clutched in his gnarled hand. He stares at it. He doesn’t flinch.

The door creaked open quietly. Silver stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He paused, eyes locked on the man who once haunted his childhood—now reduced to a fragile ghost of flesh and pain.

Behind Silver, Michael and Allison entered hesitantly, their footsteps muted against the worn linoleum floor. Michael’s expression was guarded, a mixture of contempt and something softer, barely concealed. Allison looked torn, her gaze flickering between Silver and Gerard, unease etched across her face.

Gerard let out a low, bitter chuckle, leaning back slowly in his wheelchair, wheezing through a weak grin. His voice rasped like gravel as he coughed again, harsher this time. Black liquid pooled at the corner of Gerard’s lips. He spat it into the tissue and laughed darkly. “You want answers? Come take them. Everyone else already has,” he spat with bitter venom, eyes glinting with malice despite his frailty.

Silver crossed the room slowly, every step measured but resolute. He kept his distance, but his eyes never wavered—sharp, cold, and focused on the broken man before him.

Michael stepped forward, jaw clenched, voice clipped but edged with urgency. “We’re here for the truth, Gerard. No more games. No more lies.”

Allison shifted uneasily, her fingers twisting together nervously. Her voice softened, nearly a whisper. “Please. Just tell us what we need to know.”

Gerard’s gaze sharpened as he leaned forward in his wheelchair, the wheezing breaths rattling in his chest. “Is he here?” The question hung heavy in the stale air.

Michael’s hand twitched near the knife at his belt, a barely restrained tension radiating from him. Allison instinctively stepped closer to Silver, as if seeking unspoken comfort, but a silent fracture lingered between the siblings and the ex-lover standing between them.

Suddenly, Gerard raised his sleeve, revealing the scarred flesh beneath, and sneered. “Oh. Come in, Scott, and give an old man a little something for his pain.”

From behind the group, Allison’s voice cracked with unease. “You don’t have to do this.”

Silver’s tone dropped low and tense, eyes flicking nervously between Scott—who had just entered—and Gerard. “Scott, maybe this was a mistake.”

Gerard’s grin twisted cruelly. “If you want me to talk, this is how it’s gonna happen. Come on, Silver. I helped you become who you are.” Silver’s voice was quiet but bitter. “No. You just taught me how to survive people like you.”

Scott stepped forward, firm. “If I do this, you have to tell us everything you know. Everything.” As Scott moved closer, Gerard grabbed his wrist tightly. Gerard grunted with relief while Scott groaned in pain, his eyes beginning to glow. Scott pulled back, wincing, and Allison glared at Gerard.

“They found a third body?” Gerard asked, a dark edge to his voice.

“Another doctor, right after Scott found Deaton.” Allison said,

Gerard murmured, “Right after? Almost like it was expected he’d survive.”

Scott challenged him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gerard smirked. “How do you know your dark druid isn’t your wise veterinarian himself? Maybe he knew you’d find him. Maybe he planned it that way.”

Scott shook his head. “He would never let anyone innocent die.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Gerard replied. “You’d be surprised how far some people would go to get rid of someone like Deucalion.”

Silver crossed his arms, voice sharp. “What about someone like you?”

Gerard laughed and spat more black liquid onto his towel. “If only it were that easy.” Then, his tone dropped darker. “You know, Scott, you’ve made me something of a celebrity here. A medical mystery. The cancer is now virtually undetectable, but the doctors have no clue why my body keeps producing and ejecting this bizarre black fluid.”

Scott’s voice was steady. “I did what you wanted me to do. Tell us how to beat him.”

Gerard shook his head. “You can’t. I tried.”

Silver’s voice was quiet but firm as he backed away. “He’s just playing us. Let’s go.”

As they started to turn away, Gerard called out, “Wait.” Everyone froze and looked back. Gerard’s smirk was chilling. “I can tell you one thing. Deucalion may have lost his eyes… but he’s not always blind.”

🌕

“They were all there. Deucalion, Ennis, Kali. Each with their own packs, before they’d killed them all and decided to form their little all-star team.”

“But they didn’t all live here?” Silver asked, eyes narrowing as he processed the information.

“No,” Gerard replied. “But there was an exceptionally powerful alpha who did live here. She had a capacity to shape-shift that was rare among her kind. That made her something of a leader, the kind of person they would go to for advice and guidance. Talia Hale.”

Allison looked toward Gerard, curiosity mixed with doubt. “How does he know all about Celtic symbols and Druids?”

“Know thy enemy, Allison. The older wolves had a relationship with the Druids. They called them emissaries.”

“Like my boss, Deaton,” Scott said.

Gerard rose, grabbing a heavy book. “Do you know the myth of Lycaon?”

“I know it’s where we get the word ‘Lycanthropy,'” Scott said, stepping closer with Silver and Michael.

“According to myth, some Greek citizens believed they owed their lives more to Prometheus than to the gods of Olympus. And some followers even took names to honor the Titans instead of the gods,” Gerard explained.

“Like Deucalion,” Silver nodded knowingly.

“The son of Prometheus. Lycaon didn’t just refuse to honor the gods. He challenged them. He invited Zeus to a banquet and then tried to serve him the flesh of a human being. Angered, Zeus blew the palace apart with lightning bolts and punished Lycaon and his sons by turning them into wolves. The lesser-known part is how Lycaon sought out the Druids to help turn him back to human,” Gerard continued.

“Why Druids?” Scott asked.

Gerard glanced at Michael, who shifted uneasily. “The belief was that the ancient Druids knew how to shape-shift. They couldn’t make Lycaon and his sons human again, but they taught them how to shift back and forth. And so the Druids became important advisors to the packs.”

Silver followed the others back to their seats, eyes thoughtful. Michael remained tense, jaw tight.

“I wasn’t surprised when Deaton arranged a meeting with Deucalion,” Gerard said. “As William Blake said, ‘Any sinister person who means to be your enemy always starts by trying to become your friend.'”

Michael’s gaze flicked to Silver, his voice low but sharp. “And sometimes friends aren’t what they seem.”

“How do you know he wasn’t going there to make peace?” Scott challenged.

Gerard smiled thinly. “Because I’m not an idiot. Do you know the Sanskrit fable of the scorpion and the turtle?”

Silver’s voice cut through, calm but certain. “The scorpion asks the turtle for a ride across the river. He says he wouldn’t sting the turtle because they’d both drown.”

“And when the scorpion stings the turtle, dooming them both, what does he say to explain himself?” Gerard asked.

Michael’s eyes darkened. “It’s my nature.”

Gerard nodded. “Exactly. I know a werewolf’s nature. I knew what was coming. A trap.”

“They attacked you?” Allison asked, voice tight.

“It was an ambush,” Gerard confirmed.

Scott looked to Michael. “He sees as a wolf?”

“He’s not always blind,” Gerard repeated.

Silver looks down in thought as Michael, sneakingly glances at him. “We should go.” Michael says to his girlfriend.

“You ever wonder why it didn’t make sense?” Gerard began, his voice low and deliberate. “How your father found you? The boys chased you to the middle of the woods, you should’ve been dead!”

Silver’s spine stiffened, his heart pounding so loudly he thought it might burst from his chest. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard, bracing himself. “What are you saying?”

Gerard tilted his head slowly, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “I’m saying the attack wasn’t random. The boys you fought off… those bullies—they were bait. Your bait. Set up by Deucalion himself.”

Silver’s eyes widened, disbelief and horror flooding through him like ice water. He took an involuntary step back, his back nearly touching the cold wall. “What?”

“He was hoping to break you,” Gerard said, voice dropping lower, sharp as a blade. “To trigger something violent. A shift. Something that would force your family to do what he believed was necessary. Kill you. Before you became a threat.”

Silver’s stomach churned. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as the reality settled like poison in his veins.

“He wanted them to see you as dangerous,” Gerard went on, voice harsh. “Unstable. But it didn’t work the way he thought. You didn’t turn. You didn’t snap. You didn’t become one of them.”

Gerard nodded slowly, eyes cold. “Exactly. You survived, but that was never the plan. Deucalion wanted to make sure your father would finish the job.”

Silver’s breath hitched, trembling. His voice barely a whisper, “That’s why Thomas kept saying it. That line he always threw at me…”

“‘Your father should’ve finished you,'” Gerard recited, voice cutting through the room like ice. “Because in Deucalion’s eyes, he failed.”

The weight of the truth crashed into Silver with devastating force. His legs shook, and he turned away, running a shaky hand through his hair, struggling to hold himself together. Every whispered insult, every shadow of doubt cast by his father now made horrifying sense. The paranoia, the flickers of fear in his father’s eyes—everything was a lie he’d been forced to live.

“I wasn’t supposed to survive,” Silver muttered, voice cracking. “I was supposed to die in that forest.”

“And yet here you are,” Gerard said, voice sharp and almost mocking. “Still standing. Which means he failed twice.”

Silver whirled back to face him, eyes burning with a mix of anger and pain, despite the ache gnawing at his chest. “Then tell me why you’re telling me this now.”

Gerard’s gaze sharpened, his voice low and deadly serious. “Because Deucalion’s still out there. This time, he won’t leave anything to chance.”

“So what are you gonna do, Silver?” Gerard asked,. “Let him finish what he started.?”

The room fell quiet again, the air thick with everything that had just been revealed. But Silver didn’t move. His fists, once clenched at his sides, slowly loosened as he turned, steady now, his voice low but clear.

“Is he telling the truth?” he asked, eyes locked on Scott. “Not about me. About Deucalion.”

Scott looked back at him for a moment—there was weight behind his gaze, a flicker of guilt, of something darker. Then he turned to Gerard.

“No,” Scott said, his voice firm. “The whole time that you were telling your story, I was listening to your heartbeat. It never went up. It went down. It was steady the whole time.”

Gerard gave a small, cold smile. “Because I was telling the truth.”

“Or because you’re a really good liar,” Scott snapped, suddenly grabbing Gerard’s wrist with a sharp twist. Gerard let out a groan of pain as Scott held tight.

“If you lied,” Scott hissed, voice low and dangerous, “and it gets people hurt—I’ll be back to take away more than your pain.” He released Gerard’s hand, letting it fall.

Gerard gasped softly, cradling his wrist, but didn’t speak.

Allison’s voice broke the silence, softer now but edged with urgency. “And what about Silver?”

Silver didn’t answer. He was still staring at the floor, the echo of Gerard’s words ringing louder than anything else in the room.

Michael stepped forward, tense and restless, already near the door. His eyes didn’t meet Silver’s. “Let’s just go,” he said, voice tight.

There was a hesitation from Scott, from Allison—but Michael’s urgency was clear.

🌕

“You promised me,” Silver whispered, standing in front of his father. “You looked me in the eyes and promised me. I didn’t doubt you for a second… I didn’t want another parent to disappoint me.”

Argent stood stiffly, trying to remain composed, but the crack in his gaze betrayed him. Rachel sat silently off to the side of the room, still and watching, tension in her jaw. And near the wall, behind Silver—Allison stood frozen, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I was never going to do it,” Argent said at last, voice low, grating.

Silver let out a broken laugh, throwing his hands in the air. “Well that’s comforting. Let me guess—Mom voted yes.”

“Silver,” Argent snapped, sharp, but there was no conviction behind it. Only shame.

“He killed those boys,” Silver said, voice rising. “He tried to kill me. He tried to get my family to kill me. And you don’t think that’s something I should know? That was the moment—you should’ve told me everything. About the code. About what we are.”

“I did what I thought was right,” Argent said. “I was by your bedside every night. I kept thinking, ‘I’ll tell him tomorrow. I’ll tell him everything.’ But then you woke up and… you just kept panicking about the boys. Saying their names.”

Silver tried to sit up. He couldn’t. His arms wouldn’t move.

His breathing picked up — too fast, too loud. The heart monitor spiked in rhythm.

Argent’s voice cut through the memory, gentle but strained. “My only thought was to protect you.”

Silver blinked back to the present, rage tightening every inch of him. “Who else knew?”

Argent didn’t answer. His eyes shifted.

Silver turned—and saw him.

Michael stood just inside the doorway, still and pale.

Rachel looked down.

And behind them, Allison’s hand flew to her mouth, a sob escaping despite her effort to hold it in. Her eyes locked with Silver’s for a heartbeat, wide and wet with disbelief.

“You knew?” Silver said to Michael, voice sharp.

Michael stepped forward. “I didn’t find out til after we started dating,” he said quickly. “Your parents told me to keep you safe. I didn’t know it was Deucalion but I knew it was a wolf. “

“And you did such a great job of that,” Silver snapped. “Is that why you ran to my sister? Was that part of the plan? “

Michael had no defense. He stood there, guilty and silent.

Silver looked between all of them—his father, his sister, Rachel, Michael—and the grief in his eyes was bone-deep.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

And then he turned and walked out, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing through the apartment like a final blow.