The Hybrid Curse [MM]

Chapter: 10

*****

Liam's POV:

The ray of sunlight hit my face, followed by the birds singing. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to embrace the harsh light before adjusting to it.

My mind went back to the experience I had yesterday. It was a miracle that I was able to sleep all through the night, and it wasn't just that—I had fallen into a deep sleep where I couldn't remember a thing that happened.

Soon, my wrist began throbbing. As I stared at it, I wished it were all a cruel nightmare, but the mark was still there, dark and unrelenting. What has he done to me? I quickly rushed to the bathroom, picking the hardest body scrub out of the three scrubs available. I scrubbed it with every ounce of energy in me, hoping it would fade, but it didn't. It all felt like a dead-end tunnel.

I sat on the bathroom floor as different thoughts ran through my mind. It was all in chaos—one I couldn't pinpoint exactly—but one thing I knew was that I needed an explanation for all of this.

Just then, I tried to stand from the bathroom tiles I was sitting on, but my body started to feel different—like something inside of me had shifted. I reached out for the large hand mirror, searching for more signs of what Ezekiel had done to me, but all I could see staring back was a haunted version of myself.

I had purposely pushed Roman away yesterday, partly because of guilt, but mostly because I knew there was a chance he sensed that something was wrong. He couldn't tell what, and I couldn't bring myself to say it. That would be the ultimate betrayal.

Finally, after a few hours of sitting and struggling, I was able to stand. I bathed under the hot shower, hoping it would burn off the mark on me—or at least wash away the disgust, pain, and anger I felt inside. Instead, I was just left with my problem.

I walked out of the bathroom barefoot, a towel wrapped around my waist, and headed to the refrigerator for a scotch—only to be met with a familiar face. The last person I was expecting to see here—Roman. Instinctively, I covered my wrist, forgetting my initial reason for being there.

"What are you doing at my place this early in the morning?" I questioned, trying to calm my racing heart before he could detect anything. His Beta abilities made him superior, allowing him to notice things faster than a normal person. I knew it was just a matter of time.

"To make up for what I did yesterday," he said, cutting the vegetables as if they were the most important thing in the world. "Plus, I'm making breakfast. I realized you might have been stressed due to your previous activities and needed to rest up."

I wanted to tell him to leave, but my gaze fell to my wrist. That had to be handled first, before he started asking questions I wasn't ready to answer.

I walked to my wardrobe, pulling out a long gray sweatshirt to hide my wrist, along with a pair of joggers. Exhaling, I glanced at my reflection. I was growing tired of the mirror, tired of seeing the same guarded expression staring back at me.

Grabbing a comb, I ran it through my hair, steadying myself. No matter how long he stayed, I would act natural. I wouldn't complicate things.

By the time I walked into the dining room, the food was already set on the table. He sat there, waiting, his expression unreadable. Without a word, we started eating.

The first bite was rich and savory. The steak was barely cooked, just seared enough on the outside, with the juices still running. The roasted bone marrow was soft and buttery, melting in my mouth.

He ate in silence, his movements slow but focused. Even as he chewed, his shoulders remained tense, like he was carrying something heavy on his mind.

After a moment, he reached for his drink—a glass of whiskey. He took a sip, let out a quiet breath, then muttered, "This helps."

I glanced at him. "The food?"

He nodded. "Yeah. The meat. The marrow. The burn of the whiskey. It keeps me steady."

I hesitated. "You mean it keeps the wolf at bay?"

He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Something like that."

I knew what he was talking about, but my plan was to stay numb and go about my day, even though I was on edge, jumpy at every shadow. From the look in his eyes, I knew he could see through my pretense, regardless of how much I tried.

"Are you good?" he asked, setting his food aside.

I nodded, my mouth full of steak.

"Regarding what happened yesterday, do you want to talk about it?"

Silence filled the room. I wasn't ready to talk about things. Not to him. Not when I didn't even know what was happening. Not when I hadn't wrapped my head around this reality.

"I believe it's nothing to worry about, Roman. I was just stressed from yesterday's activities, and I was tired. Plus, bothering you with my issues all the time? No, please." I responded, the guilt weighing heavy on my chest. But I kept a straight face, chewing my steak while battling the emotions inside me.

His gaze lingered on me. "Why are you wearing a long-sleeve sweatshirt under this hot sun? You hate inconveniences. Is something wrong?"

Instinctively, I touched the mark before quickly pulling my hand away. "I just felt like wearing it today. Is that a problem?" I answered, hoping he would stop interrogating me like some criminal.

"What are you hiding?"

Panic rose in me—he couldn't see the mark. He knew what it meant.

Within the blink of an eye, the conversation turned into a heated argument. Roman accused me of keeping secrets, and I, on the other hand, lashed out in frustration, telling him to stay out of my business.

Just when I thought it was over, he suddenly grabbed my sweatshirt, yanking up the sleeve. I struggled to take it from him, to make sure my secret isn't laid bare for him to see, and with that thought in mind, I shoved him away.

I quickly pulled my sweatshirt down, but it was already too late.

He had seen the mark.