With the conclusion that Werewolves can live among humans without being noticed, Adele searches more,
She needs answers.
Her fingers fly over the keyboard as she searches:
"How to identify a werewolf in human form."
The screen floods with results, so ridiculous, others steeped in folklore.
Useless myths about full moons, silver bullets, and ancient curses.
Adele scoffs, shaking her head. She doesn’t have ti for fiction. She needs sothing real. Sothing she can use.
She scrolls deeper, bypassing blogs and fantasy theories until she stumbles upon a research file buried in an obscure corner of the internet.
A man, anonymous, but claiming years of study, had docunted his encounters with werewolves.
His notes are disorganized, paranoid even, but they hold the only concrete thods she has seen so far.
Wolfsbane Exposure- Inhalation thod
Her eyes lock onto the first thod,
"Wolfsbane, when turned into fine powder and released into the air, triggers an imdiate physical reaction in werewolves. Unlike humans, who may only experience mild discomfort or irritation, a werewolf, no matter how strong, will show signs of distress.
Coughing, difficulty breathing, burning skin, and even temporary loss of control over their shifting abilities.
This thod is effective because it doesn’t require direct ingestion or contact; it exposes them without their knowledge."
Adele leans back, exhaling sharply. This... this could work. She just needs to find Wolfsbane. But where?
She quickly pulls up another search:
"Where to find Wolfsbane?"
Results pour in.
The plant is rare, highly toxic, and banned in many places due to its deadly nature.
But there are sources, black-market suppliers, old herbalists who deal in dangerous redies.
If she can get her hands on it, she could discreetly release the powder into the air at the hospital, at the police departnt... anywhere humans gather. If anyone reacts, she’ll know.
Her grip tightens on the mouse. She will find it.
She scrolls down for more information...
Silver Exposure_ Contact thod.
She returns to the file, her pulse quickening as she skims the second thod.
"Silver is one of the only elents known to burn werewolves on contact. While modern werewolves have evolved to hide among humans, their reaction to silver remains unchanged.
Direct contact with silver will cause an imdiate, visible burn on their skin, regardless of how strong they are."
Adele’s mind races. This is perfect. All she has to do is replace the hospital’s tal utensils, scalpels, needles, even jewelry, with pure silver. If soone flinches, if their skin reacts... she’ll know.
Her fingers twitch with anticipation. This thod is discreet. Easy to execute. She can arrange for silver-coated dical tools to be used in basic checkups, or even introduce silver jewelry and observe reactions.
She inhales sharply, the pieces coming together. She’s getting closer.
Sound Frequency Sensitivity Test,,,
Adele reads that werewolves, even in human form, have heightened hearing, far beyond normal human capability.
Certain high-frequency sounds, undetectable to most humans, can cause discomfort or even pain in werewolves.
She leans forward, scanning a study on auditory sensitivity in supernatural creatures.
So researchers had theorized that playing an ultrasonic frequency in a room could provoke a subtle reaction, flinching, irritation, or even an involuntary growl.
Her mind races.
She could integrate such a sound into hospital waiting rooms, police interrogation rooms, or even public spaces.
The humans wouldn’t notice anything, but the werewolves... they would.
Scent Trigger – Synthetic Silver Compound,,,
Her heart pounds as she reads another thod. Werewolves have an extre sensitivity to silver, even in its weakest forms.
So researchers suggest that while pure silver burns their skin, a diluted airborne version, microparticles in a synthetic compound, can trigger subtle but telling reactions, like discomfort, nausea, or sudden sneezing fits.
She clicks through suppliers. With the right resources, she could easily introduce this into ventilation systems or as a subtle mist in the air.
It wouldn’t be strong enough to harm them, but it would make them uncomfortable, revealing them without a direct confrontation.
"Now all I need is to find all of this, and I’ll find those fucking creatures! They are very wrong if they think they can even have a place here! Not when they attacked my daughter first! Not when they killed my husband!"
~
anwhile, at the pack house,
the sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows over the crowded pack house yard.
The air is thick with the scent of freshly turned earth and the quiet murmurs of gathered wolves.
They stand in clusters, a sea of faces, so grieving, so solemn, all present to pay respects.
Ace stands at the front, his hands clenched at his sides.
His gaze is locked on the two wooden coffins resting atop the carved stone slabs.
The weight in his chest is suffocating, pressing down with a finality that feels unbearable.
This isn’t where he wanted them to be.
He had planned to take them to the graveyard where Jun’s parents rested. It felt right, away from all of this, in a quiet place where he could visit without the constant reminder of everything he had lost. But Kieran had insisted.
"They should be buried here, in the pack’s land," Kieran had said firmly.
Ace had fought him on it. He had been angry- furious, even. How dare Kieran try to make decisions about his parents? About sothing this personal?
But in the end, he had listened.
Not because he forgave Kieran. Not because he had suddenly agreed with him.
But because deep down, he knew the truth.
His parents had been exiled long ago, forced into isolation, stripped of their place in the pack.
They had lived their lives away from their people, away from everything they had once belonged to. It would be cruel to let them die the sa way.
And so, here they were.
The pack had gathered in full force. Alphas from neighboring territories had co, warriors stood at attention, elders murmured quiet prayers.
Even those who had never t Marsel and Elira had co to pay their respects.
A fire burns at the center of the yard, its blue flas licking toward the sky, a symbol of Ace’s heritage, his power, the legacy his parents had passed down to him.
Jun stands beside him, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. Rey is there too, quiet and watchful, his usual teasing deanor replaced by sothing softer.
Kieran stands a few steps away, his presence heavy despite the distance.
Ace refuses to look at him.
The ceremony begins, and the voices of the pack rise in a low, lodic hum. A song of farewell. Of rembrance.
Ace exhales, his throat tight.
This is it.
Now they can rest in peace as he works on so inhuman humans!
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