The Werewolves of Nyxryn

Chapter 4- the human realm

The werewolf's growl rattled low in its chest, a sound so deep it vibrated through the floorboards beneath my bare feet. Malrik stood frozen beside me, his fists clenched, but I could see the tremor in his hands. Feel the fear radiating off of him in thick waves as we were both looking at a nightmare that had become our reality.

The werewolf’s voice was nothing like I had expected — not guttural howls or nonsense snarls, but words. Broken. Harsh. Laced with rage. real words.

“Who killed him? Who killed Nathaniel?”

The words were jagged, forced through teeth too sharp for human speech. His glowing eyes locked on us, and the weight of that stare nearly buckled my knees. Malrik and I both didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My throat closed up, and Malrik, for all his brave posturing, had gone pale. Watching the hideous beast that was standing on his hind legs, while he should have been on all fours if he had been a real wolf. But he wasn't a real wolf. None of this could be real.

The werewolf’s lips peeled back into a snarl, spit dripping from his murderous teeth as he stepped into the apartment, the wood groaning beneath his massive weight. Giving us no way to escape. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“WHO. KILLED. HIM?” His voice rose to a roar that shook the walls, rattling the dishes in the cabinets. I didn’t think. I just moved.

I threw myself in front of Malrik, my arms spread wide, my body the only pathetic shield between my brother and the monster.

“Wait!” My voice cracked, but I forced the words out anyway.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

The werewolf’s head dipped low, his fangs bared inches from my face, hot breath slamming into me like a furnace. The stench of blood and earth clung to him. And I knew that with one bite, one rip, I would be dead. Nothing more but a corpse running out of blood, once he would tear my throat out.

“My brother!” he spat, each word trembling with fury.

“Killed. Left to rot like garbage on the side of the street. His scent led me here. To this building. Tho this door. To the car that’s parked outside.”

My heart stopped.

The car.

My car.

I didn’t need to look — my car was more than enough proof. Proof that I had hit something. Proof of what I’d done. The werewolf’s voice rose again, venom and grief in equal measure, giving me no time to think.

“I can smell him on that car. His blood. His fur. Do not lie to me, girl. TELL ME WHO KILLED MY BROTHER!”

Behind me, I could hear Malrik’s sharp intake of breath, the scrape of his foot as he braced himself for impact. I didn’t need to turn to know he was ready to throw himself into the fight, even if it would get him killed. I scanned the room desperately, eyes darting over the counters. A kitchen knife was too far out of reach. A cast-iron pan on the stove. Nothing that could stop this. Nothing that could save us from the beast now standing right in front of us. Two heads bigger than us.

The truth sat heavy on my tongue, thick and bitter. The truth that would burn me alive but keep Malrik and Elira safe. I closed my eyes, just for a second, then forced the words out, my voice trembling but loud enough to carry:

“It was me.”

Malrik stiffened behind me.

“Veyra, what—”

I didn’t look back at him. Couldn’t. My eyes stayed locked on the monster in front of me, even as my heart pounded so hard it hurt.

“I think I killed your brother,” I said, the words tasting like ash.

“It was an accident, but it was me who was driving the car. Not them. Just me. Only me.”

The werewolf stared at me, his eyes narrowing, fire burning in those depths of darkness. His growl lowered into something colder, more deliberate. Deadly. And I stood there, body trembling, the weak human, waiting to see if my confession had just signed my death warrant. The werewolf’s chest heaved, his massive frame filling the doorway like a shadow come alive. His eyes never left mine, burning with grief and rage that felt almost human, and yet monstrous all the same.

“A life...” he growled, his voice low and deliberate,

“...for a life. My brother’s blood must be paid.”

The words sank into me like ice water, freezing everything inside me. My vision tunneled, the edges of the room blurring. This was it. This was how it ended for me. Not some car accident, not a stray bullet in this godforsaken town, but by being torn apart by something straight out of a nightmare. Because of something I didn't even know I had done in the first place. I knew my car had hit something... but a werewolf? I had struck a werewolf... and killed it?

Why hadn't I found its body when I had gotten out of my car?

And in that single, spinning heartbeat, my life flashed before me. The sound of Elira’s laughter when she’d been small enough to curl in my lap. Malrik’s steady hand on my shoulder when I thought I couldn’t get through another shift. The smell of fresh bread from mornings long gone, back when Dad was alive and everything was simpler. Gone. All of it. And now me, gone too.

Terror rooted in my bones, but clarity bloomed sharper than fear: I couldn’t let him kill me here. Not in this apartment. Not in front of them. So I forced myself to stand taller, even though my knees were shaking.

“Fine,” I said, my voice hoarse but steady.

“If my life is the price to pay, then take it. But not here. Not in front of my siblings. You want my blood? You’ll get it. Just not with them watching you do it.”

Malrik made a choked noise behind me, a desperate mix between protest and disbelief, but I didn’t dare turn around. The werewolf’s head tilted, his eyes narrowing, the growl in his throat rolling like distant thunder.

“It doesn’t work like that, human,” he said.

“You think this will be quick? Merciful? No.” His lips peeled back, fangs gleaming.

“You killed one of us. You will not die here, like prey. You will be judged.”

My mouth went dry.

“Judged?”

His murderous eyes burned into me, and when he spoke again, his voice carried weight, like he was reciting a law older than I could comprehend.

“By our laws. By our pack. You will come with me to my world. You will stand trial for your crime under our law. Only then will your fate be decided.”

A pit yawned open in my stomach.

His world.

Trial.

Crimes.

This wasn’t just death — this was worse. This was being dragged into something I didn’t understand, bound by rules I couldn’t hope to fight. I swallowed hard, my throat aching.

“And if I go with you?” I forced the words out, even though my chest was tight with dread.

“If I let you take me… what happens to my family? Are they safe?”

His silence stretched long and suffocating before he finally rumbled,

“They are not mine to claim.”

Relief warred with despair. Malrik and Elira would live. But me? I finally understood: once I stepped into whatever dark world he spoke of, I wasn’t coming back home. Not to this apartment. Not to my siblings. Not ever. My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists at my sides, trying to hold myself together. The truth cut sharper than claws ever could—

This is goodbye.