Lila’s POV
I sat on the iron bed, my back against the cold concrete wall.
An ergency light glowed at the end of the hallway. Its ghastly white light seeped through the crack under the door, casting a narrow, faintly shimring band across the floor.
I looked down at my right hand.
The tip of my index finger was glowing with an extrely faint, almost invisible silver light. It wasn’t a reflection. It was shining from beneath my skin—like a small shard of solidified moonlight, slowly and silently creeping up my finger bone.
I closed my eyes.
And sank into that silver glow.
Ever since that morning I drank the cold cream of mushroom soup, I had followed the silver light to form a "connection" with Jasper. I’d grown familiar with the path since then.
My vision went dark.
When it returned, I was standing in a silent, desolate field.
There was no wind, no light, no horizon.
Beneath my feet was a faintly glowing path made of countless tiny silver specks. It stretched straight ahead, eventually vanishing into the thick darkness.
I knew.
’That’s his direction.’
I lifted my foot and stepped onto the silver road.
There was no sound.
But every footstep landed like a beat on a massive, taut drum.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
The rhythm matched his heartbeat perfectly.
I took seven steps.
The instant my seventh step landed—
A voice echoed directly inside my skull.
It didn’t co through my ears.
It was Jasper’s voice, branded onto the deepest layer of my mind. Steady, clear, and carrying an undeniable urgency:
"Jasper?"
"Lila! Do you know where you are?"
I stopped, standing in the middle of the silver road.
"A basent," I replied with my thoughts. "It slls of the sea."
"Is your body okay?" he asked quickly.
"I’m fine for now. Listen to ," I answered. "I don’t know why I can form this ’connection’ with you, but it might be related to the cream of mushroom soup Caleb gave ."
"What was in the soup?" His voice dropped an octave.
"Oregano," I recalled. "And... a faint bitterness. Like rust."
"Moonlight Moss," his voice suddenly grew heavy. "With Grief Sea Anemone Alkaloid. That’s a ’Silence Potion.’"
I froze.
Silence Potion.
It was the first ti that term had ever entered my consciousness.
"It’s a new drug developed by Derek to counter my abilities." A genuine tremor was in his voice. "But for you... it seems to have unlocked sothing instead."
"My fingertips felt hot after I drank it," I answered. "My nails hardened. And the edges of my vision... they glow with a silver light."
"The seal is loosening," his voice was exceptionally grave. "But Lila, your seal shouldn’t be pried open by such abnormal ans!"
"What will happen to ?" I asked.
"Beastification," he answered without a shred of hesitation. "You’ll lose your language, your mories, your perception of pain and fear. All that will be left are the instincts to hunt, to tear, to destroy."
I fell silent.
The silver light at my fingertips seed to brighten a little.
At the end of the silver road, the thick darkness seed to tremble slightly.
"Lila," his voice grew quiet, as if afraid of startling sothing. "Listen to ."
"I’m here."
"The Silence Potion was made by Derek to deal with the ’King’s Eye.’ For a normal Werewolf, it’s a lid. But for you... it’s like a key stuck in the wrong lock."
"So it’s hurting ."
"Yes," his voice was firm. "It’s tearing your seal apart, not undoing it."
"What should I do?" I asked.
"From now on," his voice was soft, but it held an undeniable power, "don’t drink any more of it."
"But..." A genuine hesitation entered my thoughts. "This is the only way I can reach you right now."
"Then let this be the last ti," his voice was resolute. "I will find you. Soon."
I stood in the middle of the silver road, gazing at the band of light that led to the endless dark.
"Okay," I replied. "I’ll wait for you."
He was silent for a few seconds.
"When you... called my na just now, my heart finally settled." His voice held a faint, almost imperceptible softness.
I froze.
"Jasper," I called out to him suddenly.
"Mm," his voice seed to genuinely relax. "I’m here."
"If... I really undergo Beastification, will you kill ?"
He didn’t answer right away.
At the end of the silver road, the darkness seed to freeze for a mont.
"No." His voice deepened, carrying a rock-solid weight. "I’ll bring you back."
"How?"
"With your na," he answered quickly. "Again, and again, and again... until you hear ."
I stood there, speechless.
The silver road trembled slightly under my feet.
"Lila," he suddenly said my na, his voice softer and deeper than before. "Tell , what do you want to do most right now?"
I closed my eyes.
’Not with my mind.’
’But with my body.’
The silver light from my fingertips was slowly creeping up my wrist.
A thin, silver mist began to bloom at the edges of my vision.
I could clearly see a web of fine cracks, eroded by moisture, on the wall three ters away.
I could hear the faint HISS of water flowing through a bend in the pipes at the end of the hall outside my door.
I could taste the lingering, faint, rust-like bitterness on the tip of my tongue.
I slowly raised my right hand and gently pressed the tip of my middle finger to the spot behind my left ear—where an old scar from a hypodermic needle remained.
The mont my fingertip touched the scar, a sharp, searing heat with a tallic tang exploded outward.
Without warning, a thin, silver mist blood at the edges of my vision.
It wasn’t a blur.
It was clarity.
As if the entire world had been coated in a thin, flowing layer of silver foil.
"I want..." My voice, in my thoughts, was soft yet exceptionally clear. "To touch your hand."
He said nothing.
At the end of the silver road, a crack suddenly split open the thick darkness.
A faint light shone through the crack.
It didn’t co from the outside.
It ca from him.
The light was faint and warm, like a golden ray of a winter afternoon sun, passing through blinds to fall upon the floor.
From within the light, a familiar hand slowly reached out.
Palm up.
Broad, warm, with well-defined knuckles.
I raised my own hand.
The silver glow on my fingertips swirled in the light.
Gently, I pressed my fingertips into the palm of that hand.
There was no temperature.
No physical sensation.
Only an... incredibly real vibration of being caught.
Like a string stretched to its breaking point, finally pressed firmly to the correct note by another hand.
"Lila," his voice was soft, husky with sothing close to a sigh. "Don’t be afraid."
"I’m not afraid," I answered. "I’m just... a little tired."
"Then sleep," his voice grew low, as if soothing a child. "I’m here."
"Will you leave?"
"No," he answered without a hint of hesitation. "I’ll watch over you."
I slowly pulled my hand back.
The silver road slowly faded from beneath my feet.
My vision sank into darkness, bit by bit.
And when my consciousness returned, I found I was no longer in the basent.
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