Chapter Text
The clearing was silent except for the ragged breaths of the two remaining wolves. Liam stood at the center, pale and still, eyes glinting with detached amusement. He didn’t move toward them; the air itself seemed to obey his will.
Oscar’s teeth bared, voice shaky. “Who… who are you?”
“I’m whatever you want me to be.” Liam said softly, tilting his head, bored. “I’m just here to watch.”
Lando stepped forward, muscles taut. “Step back. Don’t—don’t come any closer.”
Liam’s gaze swept over him, slow, deliberate. “Step back? Why would I? You’re… interesting enough.”
A subtle pressure wrapped around Oscar’s chest. He staggered, trying to breathe.
“What—what is—” His words broke.
Liam’s lips curved faintly. “You don’t even know your limits yet. Let’s test them.”
Lando’s voice cracked. “Stop it! Please, just—”
But Liam didn’t touch him. Pain coursed along Lando’s veins, precise, exquisite. Lando’s knees buckled. “I—I can’t—”
“Yes.” Liam murmured, crouching slightly, circling them. “You can. Just barely.”
Oscar growled, trembling. “Stop—”
“Stop?” Liam’s smile was lazy. “Why would I stop?”
Lando gasped, body rigid. “I—can’t—”
“That’s… perfect.” Liam said, letting the pressure hang at the edge of collapse.
Then… a sudden strike from the shadows. Someone attacking, fast, sharp. Liam released him. Lando collapsed into the arms of the figure, gasping and trembling.
Liam lifted his head.
And froze.
A flood of memories hit him in waves— fragmented, fleeting:
Hands guiding him in the forest, steadying him as he fumbled with a blade. “Watch the wind. Watch the shadow.”
Warmth pressed against his forehead in the dark, fingers brushing his hair aside. “I’ve got you.”
Soft laughter carrying through rain, a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “Breathe. You’re ready.”
A gentle voice whispering over a flickering fire, “Again. You can do it.”
The sting of failure, met with careful hands, patient eyes. “Try again. You will learn.”
Small comforts at night, quiet reassurances, the first tastes of trust, of care, of something he had thought lost forever.
Liam’s knees threatened to give out. His carefully honed detachment cracked under the weight of fifty years compressed into fleeting, vivid memories.
He could barely breathe. His lips parted.
“Papa?”
The word never lands.
George doesn’t give it the chance.
His snarl tears through the clearing, sharp and feral, his body already shifting into a defensive stance as he steps fully in front of Lando without thinking.
“Who the hell are you?” George demands. “Answer me. Now.”
The air tightens.
Liam freezes.
Not like before. This isn’t calculated stillness, not the poised detachment he wears like armor. This is the kind that comes from shock, from a blade driven somewhere it wasn’t meant to reach.
His mouth is still slightly open. His eyes, too bright, too old flicker once, like a flame struggling against a sudden gust.
So that’s how it is.
He swallows.
Oscar feels it then. That shift. That wrongness crawling up his spine.
He doesn’t know the full story. None of them do. But there have always been whispers… names that surface and vanish in the same breath. Conversations Lewis and Stoffel cut short when Toto or someone walked into the room. A grief that didn’t belong to any loss Oscar could name.
Two boys, Gabriel and Liam. Lewis once murmured, drunk and bitter. Helmut took them.
Better that George doesn’t remember. Toto always insisted.
Oscar’s throat goes dry.
Lando feels it too and panic floods him so fast it almost knocks him over.
George is too focused. Too sharp. His instincts are locked onto the stranger in front of them, onto the threat, onto the way the air bends unnaturally around him.
This is bad.
This is dangerous.
“George.” Lando says quickly, too quickly. His hand grips George’s arm, fingers digging in like an anchor. “George—this isn’t worth it. We should go. Now.”
George doesn’t look at him. “Not until he answers.”
Liam exhales slowly.
The sound shakes.
“Still barking orders.” he says softly, almost to himself. “Still leading the pack.”
George bares his teeth. “I asked you a question.”
Liam finally lifts his gaze fully to him.
And then—
He sees it.
The twin crescent scars at George’s throat. Perfectly matched by the marks on Lando’s neck where his collar has shifted during the fight.
Mate marks
For a heartbeat, the world goes quiet.
Liam stares.
Something inside him goes still. Locked and frozen in place like a door slamming shut.
Oh.
Of course.
His lips press together, expression smoothing into something eerily blank. When he speaks again, the warmth… what little of it there was… is gone.
“So.” he says, voice even. “You found someone else.”
George stiffens, confused by the sudden change. “What are you talking about?”
Liam’s eyes don’t leave the marks.
“You let them make you forget.” he continues, almost conversational. “Clever. Efficient. Strip out the inconvenient parts. The burden. The screaming. The children.”
Oscar flinches.
Lando’s heart is trying to climb out of his chest.
“Hey.” Lando says quickly, stepping half a pace forward, forcing a shaky smile. “You’ve clearly got the wrong idea. We don’t want trouble. We’ll just—”
“—leave?” Liam finishes, finally looking at him.
The air shudders.
Lando feels pressure bloom behind his eyes, sharp enough to make him gasp. George reacts instantly, a growl ripping from his chest as he pulls Lando back against him.
“Enough.” George snarls. “You touch him again and—”
“And what?” Liam asks quietly.
For the first time, there’s no amusement in his face. Only something raw. Something wounded and sharp-edged.
“You’ll protect him?” Liam says. “Good. You’re good at that now.”
George’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know who you think I am—”
“I know exactly who you are.” Liam snaps.
The words crack, just slightly.
He reins himself in immediately, shoulders squaring, chin lifting. But the damage is done. The hurt bleeds through the cracks, bright and unmistakable.
“You chose a quiet life.” Liam continues, voice low. “A mate. A pack. Warm nights and shared hunts.” His gaze flicks back to the marks. “While my mother was sold like livestock.”
The clearing goes deathly still.
Oscar’s stomach drops.
George’s breath stutters despite himself. “What?”
Liam laughs then.
It’s broken.
“He didn’t fight.” Liam says. His voice is steady, but it costs him something to keep it that way. “Did you know that? He was barely there. They dragged him in already broken… chains on his wrists, blood on the floor and he just… knelt.”
His jaw tightens, eyes burning as they lift again.
“He told us not to fight them. Said it would only hurt more.”
A breath. Sharp. Controlled.
“And while he was being taken apart piece by piece, while my brother and I were chained to the floor, you let them erase us… you never came back looking for us.”
George takes a step back without realizing it.
“No.” he says hoarsely. “I didn’t— I wouldn’t—”
“You did.” Liam cuts in. “You make us believe you are dead. And then you moved on.”
The words are quiet.
They’re devastating.
Liam’s expression twists. Not into rage, not yet but into something rawer. Uncontained.
“And I wonder.” he continues slowly, like each word is being tested against a wound that never closed. “If you’re alive...”
His eyes flick away for half a second. Then back.
“Is Kimi really dead?” he asks.
The question lands like a blade.
The clearing stills.
Oscar’s breath catches sharply. Lando feels his blood turn to ice.
“Or…” Liam says, voice tightening despite himself, “did you save him?”
George’s lips part. “I don’t know who—”
“Because he’s yours.” Liam presses, sharper now. “Because he’s the only one with your blood in his veins. The only one who mattered enough to remember.”
His hands curl slowly at his sides.
“So tell me…” he says, eyes glass-bright now, fury and grief colliding, “was that the bargain? One child spared, two discarded?”
Oscar flinches.
Lando shakes his head frantically. “George, don’t—”
“Or were Gabriel and I just…” Liam exhales, the word scraping out of him, “…rubbish?”
The silence is unbearable.
“Extra weight.” he continues, voice breaking despite his effort to control it. “Unnecessary. Easy to throw away once you had what you really wanted.”
Lando feels like he’s drowning. “George.” he whispers desperately. “Please. We should go. He’s unstable. We don’t know what he can do.”
Liam’s attention snaps back to him, sharp as a blade.
“Unstable.” he echoes. “Is that what I am?”
The air tightens again.
Oscar’s knees nearly buckle as pressure wraps around his chest. Just a taste, just enough to remind them who holds the leash here. George strains against it, fury and fear warring in his eyes.
Liam releases it just as suddenly.
Oscar collapses to one knee, gasping.
George lunges forward a step before Lando hauls him back with both hands. “Stop!” Lando shouts. “George, stop—this is exactly what he wants!”
Liam watches them with cool detachment now, whatever had cracked sealing itself away behind something hard and impenetrable.
“Take him then. Take your proper lovely Mate.” Liam says to George, nodding at Lando. “Protect him. Build your perfect little life.”
He turns away, cloak stirring without wind.
“But don’t mistake my silence for forgiveness.” he adds quietly. “Or my restraint for mercy.”
He pauses, just long enough to glance back over his shoulder. His eyes meet George’s one last time — searching, aching, furious.
“For I’ll see you again.” Liam says softly. “And next time… I definitely won’t hold back… and I will make you regret everything.”
Then he’s gone.
The clearing exhales all at once.
George stands there, shaking, heart pounding like it’s trying to break free of his ribs. His gaze lingers where the vampire vanished, confusion and something dangerously close to grief tearing at his expression.
Warmth touches his cheek.
He blinks and touches it.
There are tears on his fingers.
George stares at them, confused. “Why…” His voice cracks. “Why does it hurt?”
Lando doesn’t answer.
He can’t.
Because somewhere deep down, beneath the bond and the walls and the lies they told…
He’s terrified of the day George finally remembers.