Chương 4: Awakening

Darkness pressed down on him. Lucas couldn't feel his legs. His breathing was shallow, uneven, each inhale burning his chest as if his body was slowly shutting down. So… this is how it ends… thought Lucas heavily as his eyes were slowly closing. His vision blurred, slipping in and out of focus, the forest around him dissolving into shadow and noise. A voice reached him. Distant. Distorted. The werewolf, Martin.

"… still alive?" A low chuckle followed, calm, certain—the kind of sound that came from a predator about to finish his prey, someone who already knew the outcome. Lucas tried to move. Nothing responded. Only pain spread throughout his body. Then— A pulse. Deep inside his chest. His heart slammed once. Hard. Violent. No… Something inside him refused to shut down, refused to die here and now. Not fear. Not courage. Something stranger—hunger for the being in front of him. His fingers twitched. Barely.

Weak, uncontrolled. But real. Martin stepped closer, slow, unbothered, completely sure it was over, not knowing that Lucas was slowly regaining his strength.

"You should've run, little hunter," he muttered, looking down at him like he was already dead. This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. That was the mistake. Lucas's vision sharpened for a fraction of a second. Not clear enough—just enough to focus on the figure in front of him. Not stable. But enough.

"Fuck you," Lucas said, a grin forming on his face. Rage appeared on Martin's face.

"You little—" Before he could finish, Lucas's hand moved. Not fast. Not precise. But driven by instinct. He grabbed for the arrow with shaking fingers. Missed. Slipped. Grabbed again, this time faster, not wanting to give Martin a chance to react. Lucas forced what little strength he had left into one broken movement— THUD. The arrow buried itself into Martin's throat. Not perfect. But enough. A choking sound burst from him as he staggered back, hands flying to his neck.

Blood poured through his fingers as he tried to stop the bleeding helplessly. The movement slowed. His body twitched a few more times before completely going still, his eyes wide open in disbelief. Lucas collapsed fully onto the ground, gasping, his body trembling violently. But then he felt it. Something shifting inside him. Something breaking loose. Something flowing out of Martin… and into him. Hot. Violent. Alive. Lucas's fingers tightened weakly against the ground as a wave of energy filled his body.

His heartbeat grew stronger. Louder. More stable. Silence filled the forest as Lucas processed what had happened. Then suddenly, he snapped his attention back to his wound.

"Shit… the pain is agonizing," Lucas said, his face twisted in pain. He reached for his stomach and froze. The bleeding had stopped. Quickly lifting his shirt, he saw the claw wound slowly closing.

"This is incredible…" he muttered, disbelief in his voice.

"So this is how it feels to be a werewolf… a being superior to a normal human, surpassing every limit." Lucas could feel his Predatory ability more clearly now. He felt himself changing, evolving, even though the pain still lingered. Then his gaze shifted. To the body. The man—or beast—lying motionless on the ground. A pool of blood had already formed around him, his eyes still open, staring with what felt like lingering hatred. Then realization hit him.

"I… I killed him…" Lucas whispered, his voice trembling. This was the moment it truly sank in. All the plans. All the confidence he had before. Gone. His body shook as nausea rose in his throat. He could barely process what had just happened. His breathing grew heavier as he clenched his fists, trying to steady himself.

"I need to calm down… and get the hell out of here before someone sees me… or this will be the least of my problems." He slowly stood up, looking around, trying to think if there was any way to hide the body. Nothing. Only leaves.

"No… I don't have time. With this much blood, it'll be found anyway… even trained dogs would pick up the scent easily. And if I try to hide it, I'll just leave more traces leading back to me." Lucas grew impatient. He couldn't hesitate anymore. He moved quickly, searching for the backpack he had dropped before the fight. Spotting it behind him, he rushed over, opened it, and grabbed the water bottle. Without wasting a second, he ran back to the body.

He poured the water over the hand—the one that had stabbed him—trying to wash away any trace linking him to the attack. Then he quickly scanned the area again, making sure he hadn't missed anything. Pulling his hood down, he turned and walked away from the body. As he moved through the forest, he kept looking around, even though he knew it might make him seem more suspicious. After walking a few kilometers, Lucas neared the edge of the forest. He shot a few quick glances around. No one. Good.

Without hesitation, he increased his pace, heading straight for home.