The barn’s hayloft reeked of rot and resentment. Ness crouched in the shadows, clutching a bleeding scrape on his knee—courtesy of Rex shoving him off the ladder again. Below, Rex paced like a caged animal, his boots crunching straw as he hurled a rusty wrench against the wall. Clang. The sound made Ness flinch.

“You think I don’t see you hiding up there, freak?” Rex barked, his voice raw. “Get down. Now.”

Ness hesitated. His horns—small, twisted things that had erupted last winter—throbbed faintly, a reminder of the blood their mother had hidden in him. Demonic blood. Monster blood, Rex called it.

“I said NOW!” Rex grabbed the ladder, shaking it violently. Ness tumbled down, landing hard at his brother’s feet. Rex loomed over him, his face a mask of revulsion. “Look at you. Those eyes… like a goddamn snake. You make me sick.”

Ness swallowed. “I didn’t ask for this, Rex. You think I want—

“Shut your mouth!” Rex’s boot collided with Ness’s ribs, cutting him off. “You don’t get to talk about what you want. Not after what your kind did to her.”

Her. Their mother. Ness’s throat tightened. She’d died defending him when the village discovered his heritage, her body torn apart by mob steel. Rex had watched. He’d watched, and done nothing.

“She chose you over me,” Rex whispered, his voice cracking. “Every damn time. Even when you started… changing. Even when she knew you’d kill her.” He knelt, gripping Ness’s collar so tight the fabric ripped. “You took her. You took everything.”

Ness’s vision blurred. “I loved her too—”

“Don’t.” Rex recoiled as if burned. “You don’t know what love is. Demons don’t. They just take.” He yanked a chain from his pocket—their mother’s silver locket, the wolf’s head dented from years of Rex’s grip. “This is all I have left of her. And you? You’re just a reminder that she failed. That she let a monster sleep under our roof.”

“I’m your brother,” Ness choked out.

Rex laughed, a hollow sound. “Brothers share blood. My blood’s human. Yours?” He spat into the straw. “Yours is poison.”

The barn door creaked open. Old Man Harker, their landlord, glared in. “Rex! Get that thing out of my sight before sundown, or I’ll put a bullet in it myself.”

Rex’s jaw twitched. “He’s leaving.”

“Rex, please—” Ness reached for him, but Rex slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. “You wanna know why I hate you? It’s not just the horns, or the eyes. It’s that every time I look at you, I see her—broken, bleeding, begging me to save you instead of herself.” He threw the locket into the dirt. “So go. Run. Before I let the town finish what they started.”

Ness didn’t move. “Where am I supposed to go?”

Rex turned his back, his shoulders rigid. “Hell, for all I care.”