They all nod slightly.
“It helped, but not enough. Then, this guy started showing up at the park bench. Watching me. I knew he was a vamp. I could feel it, you know. He scared the shit out of me, to be honest. But then he started leaving things for me when I slept. Clothes. Deodorant. Things I needed. So I started to trust him.”
I twist the lens, shame coiling through me. “He asked how much I was getting for donating. When I told him, he said he could pay me twice that much if I… helped him.”
Rowen’s jaw tightens. “Doing what?”
“Feeding him.” My voice barely makes it out. “He paid me twice. But then… he said if I came back to this club with him, the money would be even better. Like, over five times as much. So I went because I was desperate. But…”
My lip trembles, and I can’t speak.
“But then you never left,” Ivy finishes softly on a gasp.
I nod. My stomach twists.
“Oh God, Toby,” she says, draping an arm over my shoulders. I lean into her, crying.
Once I catch my breath, I sit up. My hands tremble as I trace the edge of the digital camera. It’s the only thing getting me through this story.
“Photography was… it was always my way of finding beauty,” I say. “Growing up, my mom was pretty unstable. She was in and out of mental institutions, and our life was chaos. I never knew what each day would be like. But through a lens, I could focus on something. It made things make sense. Like my world came into view, you know? Everything else could be falling apart, but if I framed it right, it could still be beautiful.”
I lift the camera and snap a photo of Rowen. His eyes glint in the light from the tree. “So this—anyway, now you know what this means to me. I’m sorry for crying.”
Rowen moves closer, sitting beside me on the floor. He curls both arms around me and hugs me tight. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
Across the room, Red’s shoulders stiffen as he clears his throat. “Tobias, forgive me, but something you said… I need to ask you something.”
I sit up, waiting.
“This will sound weird, but do you remember your mom’s eyes ever… changing?”
My brow furrows. “Changing?”
He nods. “Color. Shape. Anything.”
I start to say no, but pause. Thereweremoments—times when I could’ve sworn her eyes looked darker, her pupils wider. I thought it was exhaustion. Medication. The light playing tricks. Anything, really.
Even me looking a little too close to find something beautiful.
“Maybe,” I say. “Once or twice.”
Red glances at Sage, then at Grant. Grant’s face goes pale.
“What?”
Red exhales slowly. “You might be a half-blood.”
I blink. “What?”
“Everything you just described—the bite, the sickness, the recovery—it’s what happens when someone’s animal starts to awaken. Shifters go through something similar before their first change, except much less drastic.”
I shake my head. “No. That’s… no. That doesn’t make sense. The doctor said it was just a virus or something.”
“They lied to you. It wasn’t a virus. That bite didn’t poison you—it undid a suppressant in your system.”
I stare at him. “But my mom—she wasn’t a shifter.”
“I think she was,” Red says gently. “Specifically, I think she was a half-blood, which makes you one as well.”
