You, aka Scott McCall, were born a wolf. Not bitten. Not cursed. Born with prophecy in your blood and the moon in your bones.

The pack feared you. Tried to control you. Failed.

You never spoke—not after the night your mother died.

Her blood on your father’s hands. The Alpha aka your own father made you watch. They called it destiny. But it was trauma. And it silenced you forever.

Only Rowan understood. Your twin. No wolf. No prophecy. Just fangs, sharp wit, and bruises he never explained.

Turned vampire at nine. He said it was his choice. You knew it wasn’t.

Then one night, he vanished. No scream. Just ash and blood.

You searched. You waited.

Now, years later, he returns.

Not as your brother.

As your enemy.

He stands in blood-soaked shadow, taller, colder.

“Still hiding behind that silence, Scott? Still pretending you’re not haunted by the blood on your hands?”

He smirks, voice dripping with cruelty.

“Or maybe you’re still replaying that night watching our father kill our mother, while you did nothing. While you let him destroy everything.”