When Jack became aware of his surroundings again, they were outside under the clear, night sky, the distant hum of music from inside barely reaching them. The cool air brushed against his heated skin, but it did nothing to soothe the turmoil inside him.

Sarah stood a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, glaring at him with an intensity that made him feel smaller than he ever had before. The weight of her stare was almost unbearable, and he found himself wishing she would look away, even for a moment.

"I didn’t need you to do that," she said, her voice cutting through the night air with a sharpness that made him flinch. Jack heard her foot tapping against the rough ground, the sound echoing the impatience and anger radiating off her.

Jack shook his head, trying to justify his actions. "I just can't stand disrespectful men. And he was too strong for you." His words sounded hollow, even to his own ears. He didn’t need her appreciation, but he wasn’t ready for this confrontation either.

"You could have killed him," she snapped, her tone accusatory, as if she was scolding a child who didn’t know better.

Jack’s discomfort deepened. He couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes, not now. "But I didn't. I couldn't have. He's a man like myself." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but it was easier than facing the truth.

"You know that's not true." Her words hung between them like a heavy cloud, thick with the unspoken truths they both knew. Jack's stomach twisted with guilt. It was the lies, once again—lies by omission, and commission. Lies that had built a wall between them, brick by brick.

"In the state you were, one punch could have killed him. You know that." Sarah's voice was quieter now, almost gentle, but the words struck him like a hammer.

"That doesn't even make sense," Jack muttered, but his protest was weak, almost desperate.

She let out a tired sigh, the kind that spoke of frustration built up over time, of patience worn thin. "I've witnessed it twice now, Jack." Her confession came with a gravity that made his heart skip a beat. "You don't need to defend yourself anymore."

Jack's breath caught in his throat. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied, his gaze still fixed on a bush nearby, anything to avoid the truth in her eyes.

She shook her head, disappointment etched across her face. "Just stop! Please!" Her hands flew up, a gesture of surrender, of exasperation. "I can't handle this anymore. I've waited long enough to see if you'll allow yourself to change, to be redeemable. But if that's what I'm waiting for, I might as well wait forever."

The pounding in Jack’s ears grew louder, his thoughts spiraling. He wanted to ask her what she meant, to demand answers, but fear kept his mouth shut.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"What are—" he started, but she cut him off, her voice slicing through his words like a knife.

"I saw your eyes, Jack." Her declaration was final, like a judge’s verdict. There was no escaping it. "I know what you are."

The world tilted beneath him, and for a moment, Jack felt as though he might fall through the earth. His heart plummeted, sinking into a cold, dark place he had tried so hard to ignore.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He could feel his carefully constructed facade crumbling, piece by piece.

Sarah took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his. "You think I haven’t noticed? You think I’ve been blind to the way you change? The way your eyes darken, the way you lose yourself when that side of you takes over?"

Jack swallowed hard, trying to muster some form of defense, but he had none. The truth was out, and there was no taking it back.

She continued, her voice now laced with sorrow as well as anger. "I’ve seen it twice, Jack. Twice, I’ve seen you become something else, something terrifying. And each time, I hoped it was a mistake, that I imagined it. But I didn’t. And now I can’t unsee it."

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He was drowning in her gaze, in the reality he had tried so desperately to deny.

"You’re not just struggling, Jack. You’re losing control," she whispered, and the sadness in her voice nearly broke him. "And I’m scared. Scared of what you might do next, scared of what you’re becoming."

The silence between them was deafening. Jack’s mind raced, searching for a way to undo the damage, to take back the last few minutes, to take back everything that had led to this moment.

"I’m not a monster, Sarah," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. But even as the words left his lips, he wasn’t sure he believed them.

Sarah’s expression softened, but only slightly. "I want to believe that, Jack. I really do. But I can’t ignore what I’ve seen. You need help. You need to face this before it consumes you completely."

Jack’s shoulders sagged under the weight of her words. He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but deep down, he knew she wasn’t. “I don’t want this curse, Sarah, I don’t know how to end it though. I want my life to have purpose, I thought I wanted fame but it is empty.”

Sarah nodded. "Then let me help you, Jack. Let me show you that there's more to life than what you have now." He couldn't meet her gaze.

"I can't do this alone anymore," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Sarah hesitated, her expression torn. "I can't fix this for you, Jack," she said finally. "But I can be there for you, if you'll let me."

Jack looked up at her then, his eyes filled with a desperate hope he’d thought long lost. Her gaze was no longer judgmental or disappointed; instead, it was filled with compassion and understanding—a lifeline he desperately needed in this darkest hour.

"I don't know how to do this either," he confessed, his voice shaking with a vulnerability he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

Sarah took his hand in hers, her touch warm and grounding. "Come with me," she said softly. as she led him back toward her cottage.

Jack laced his fingers through hers, squeezing tightly as if she were his last connection to sanity. They walked silently through the moonlight, the weight of their words hanging heavy between them. But for the first time in a long time, Jack felt a glimmer of hope. A hope that maybe, just maybe, he could change his course—a hope that redemption was still within reach.