Galdark hadn’t thought much about it when he first heard from the others that blood was required for whatever this strange vampirism disease was supposed to be. At the ti, it simply sounded like another odd symptom in a list of odd symptoms. But now, sitting in front of Jack and hearing the full truth piece by piece, he felt a cold heaviness settling into his stomach.
If Lily needed blood, if it truly was the core of her survival, then why did Jack have to go to the hospital every single day? It wasn’t as though Jack was weak. It wasn’t as though Jack was selfish. If anyone in the world would willingly give sothing of themselves to the person they loved, it would be him.
And now, finally, Galdark was about to hear the answer.
Jack took a deep breath, bracing himself, before he finally continued.
“When I drew my own blood for her,” Jack said, voice tight, “Lily was the one who told she had no reaction. No relief. No compulsion. Yet she still felt hungry. She explained that when the hunger grows inside her, her senses beco... sharper. Heightened.”
He clenched a hand, rembering. “She said it felt like she could hear blood rushing in people’s veins, like a constant echo. And she said she could sll sothing, so sweet aroma, coming from others as they walked past. But toward ? Toward the pack?”
Jack shook his head. “She felt repulsed. She didn’t want to admit it, but she did. And the worst part was, I could sll it too.”
Jack shut his eyes tightly, as if the mory physically pained him. Galdark swallowed hard. He already knew Jack wasn’t soone who wavered easily. For him to carry all of this by himself...
“At first,” Jack continued, “I didn’t understand. I thought maybe it was just the stress of everything happening. Maybe she was overwheld. But being around her long enough... sothing about her scent was different, and it irritated my instincts. I ignored it, of course. It’s my wife. But it was there.”
He shook his head again. “Still, we needed a solution. We had to try sothing. So she forcefully drank my blood.”
Galdark’s eyes widened. Even Lupus and Gary, who had heard the core details earlier, looked disturbed hearing it from Jack directly.
“And seconds later,” Jack said quietly, “her body began to convulse.”
His voice trembled. This ti, he didn’t steady himself.
“She scread,” Jack whispered. “Her stomach twisted violently. She was in more pain than before. It was like sothing inside her was burning, like my blood had made it worse.”
He looked at his own hands. Large, strong, capable of crushing stone, yet trembling now.
“She threw it up. Every drop. And afterward, she was even hungrier.”
Jack paused to breathe, but it did little to steady him.
“We tried blood from beasts too,” Jack said, eyes staring distantly at the wall. “From animals. From anything we could find. The result was the sa every single ti. Pain. Rejection. Agony.”
“The only blood that satisfied her hunger...” He swallowed. “...was human blood.”
Galdark didn’t move. His mind was overloaded, trying to piece together the implications, what this ant for Lily, for Jack, for the entire pack.
“There are injured people who arrive at the hospital every day,” Jack continued, voice soft. “So bleeding, so dying. There is more blood than they can ever use. Enough for Lily to survive. That was the one blessing in all of this.”
He finally lifted his head. His eyes were tired, older than they had ever seed.
“But that wasn’t the true issue,” Jack said. “It wasn’t the blood itself. It was why she needed it. What it ant.”
Galdark felt a chill crawl up his spine.
“We managed to stabilize her,” Jack said. “If she avoided the sun and drank blood daily, she could remain calm. Herself. But even then... we could feel the distance growing. Between us. Between her and everyone.”
He let out a shaky breath.
“So I tried everything. Everything I could possibly think of. I visited the highest mages. The most talented healers. Alchemists so insane the city doesn’t even allow them near people without supervision.”
A hollow laugh escaped him. “If they claid they had a cure, even a chance of one, I listened. I tried it.”
Galdark stood silently, absorbing every detail.
Jack continued, “We tried herbal redies. Potions. Magic seals. Blood substitutes. Anything that might give her relief. And when all else failed...”
He looked toward the direction of the forge. “We tried the furnace.”
Galdark already suspected this part but still felt a sting of shock hearing it aloud.
“You saw Lily in there, didn’t you?” Jack said. “The idea behind it was twofold. First, the heat. If this disease is sothing living inside her, then extre heat might kill it.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And second... if she grew used to enduring the heat in the furnace, maybe, maybe, she could resist the sun.”
“But even inside the furnace... she still reacts.” Jack’s voice cracked. “There’s sothing about sunlight itself, sothing deeper than re heat, that burns her.”
“It’s as if the sun itself rejects her.”
Galdark exhaled shakily. He imagined being in Jack’s position, not just witnessing all of this, but living it, day by day, watching the person you love slip further away from everything normal.
And yet Jack still carried out his duties. Still led the pack. Still smiled for the others.
“I wanted to stop,” Jack admitted. “But Lily insisted we continue trying. She is fighting harder than anyone, to stay herself. To stay alive. To stay with .”
Galdark couldn’t help but admire her strength. Any ordinary person would’ve lost hope long ago.
But Jack wasn’t done.
“There’s sothing else,” Jack said quietly. “Sothing I haven’t told anyone. Sothing I never believed I would say aloud.”
Galdark straightened.
Jack stared down at his hands.
“And then I t soone,” he whispered. “Soone who looked like us... but different. Soone who claid to be the first Werewolf.”
Jack lifted his gaze, eyes dark and storming.
“And he told ... he had the answer to my problems.”
****
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