SAVE ALTAIR.

Chapter: 8

*****

TALON:

Haunting dreams kept me wide awake, my mind racing and my feelings raging out of control. The past chased me, a relentless reminder of my sins. Another day had slipped by, and I remained trapped in this cold, lifeless cave, hidden away from the world... and from myself. What was I supposed to make of life at this point? I was alone—truly, pitifully alone. When my mother died and my uncle took me in, I thought my fate had changed, and that my life would soon begin to make sense. Yet here I was, still alone.

My eyes bleed with emotion, and these feelings control me. They ruin me.

If I hadn’t bitten into Altair, I would still be locked away in that room, left to my solitude, which now seemed more preferable than this. At least then, I had little Bryn, who often came to talk with me by my door.

“Altair,” I muttered, my breath shaky. “Are you alive?” I wondered aloud, but I couldn’t feel anything from him—not a thing.

Where there was once a beat in my heart, there was now only a hollow cavity—empty and lonely. My thoughts were muddled, yet every detail of that awful afternoon remained vivid in my mind. I could still hear his screams echoing through the thick forest behind us, the waves carrying his broken sobs. His cries filled my ears as he screamed for help... for his Birth Omega, for his Double-shifter fathers. The fear in his voice felt too real, stabbing at my very being. I was on the brink of letting go, but then I was flung into the sea, with my uncle’s sharp claws slicing through my ribs. But at that moment, the only true pain I felt was that of Altair.

It was all too familiar, just as it had been before that fateful afternoon. What made it worse was that my uncle didn’t care if he hurt me; he did what needed to be done—protect his son. They had neglected me and locked me away when they thought I was a threat to the child, even before he was born, terrified that I would hurt him or, worse, kill him.

But they weren’t wrong to worry. They weren’t wrong to have locked me up like a wild beast.

I had indeed brought their deepest fears to fruition. I had hurt Altair.

I didn’t deserve this life, this second chance.

But why? Why was I given a second chance?

Then I remembered: he’s here.

I turned toward the entrance, and just in time, John arrived, a freshly baked meal and a bottle of rabbit blood in hand. So meticulous, so good to me. I often wondered why he went against his entire family to keep me here for so long. Three weeks had passed since he brought me into this cave, and I hadn’t left or seen the sun since.

With no desire to leave this place, I settled into my routine, biding my time.

After that dream in which Vale had appeared to me, I hadn’t seen him or felt Altair’s heartbeat since. The absence of that connection terrified me more than anything ever could.

John walked into the clearing and began placing his offerings on the stone slab I had made into my bed. His eyes remained fixed on his tasks, and he wouldn’t glance my way until the table was set. Then he brushed his hands on his pants and looked up with a smile—his routine.

"I made this myself. I hope you like it," he said, gesturing to the baked potatoes.

He had been feeding me both blood and food since the beginning, and though it took a while, I could feel my strength returning, albeit slowly.

I forced a smile. "Thank you, John," I muttered, taking the glass and beginning to drink.

John sat cross-legged on the other end of the slab, watching me eat. He didn’t speak until I finished. "Do you want to take a walk today?" he asked, and I turned to meet his hopeful gaze.

Every day for the past week, he had asked me this same question, and my answer had remained the same. Yet he never stopped asking. So persistent.

"You know the an—" My nose caught a whiff of a familiar scent, cutting me off mid-sentence. My heart raced, blood pumping in my ears as I wondered how it was possible. It can’t be. There’s no way!

I jumped to my feet, scanning the cave for a place to hide, but there was nowhere to conceal myself. Like a caged animal, I began to pace, my fear clawing at me.

John picked up on my restlessness, rising to his feet and watching me pace. "What's wrong?" he asked, stepping in front of me in an attempt to halt my movements. But I simply moved around him, offering no reply.

"Virgil!" he called, and I paused sharply, turning to face him.

I hadn’t even told him my name. Yet, somehow, he knew it. My name is Talon; the only person who ever called me Virgil was Vale, and that was only in my dreams. How possible was it that John knew that name? Had I mentioned it in passing and now simply could not remember? No, that can't be right. I may have lost so much, but not my memory.

"How—" The question died in my throat as I felt two strong arms seize me, holding me in place. Mortified, I didn't need to turn around to know whose hands were gripping me—like steel from a prison yard.

"Who are you?!" John yelled, attempting to rescue me, but a howl sent him falling to his knees, frozen in place. He groaned in frustration, watching helplessly as they began to drag me out of the cave.

The grip of my captors was rough, hands calloused from years of wielding weapons, dragging me over the stony ground with little regard for my dignity. The sunlight, once a distant memory, beckoned me from beyond the threshold. I could hear the distant chirping of birds, and the rustle of leaves as the wind danced through the trees, mocking me in my pain.

“There he is!” One of the Betas sneered, a smirk curling across his lips.

They pulled me closer to the light, and I felt the heat before I saw the sun. It was a tangible force, a burning reminder of my true nature. I clawed at the ground, my fingers scraping against the stone, desperate to find purchase, to resist. But the Betas were relentless, their laughter echoing in the hollow cave as they hoisted me up, forcing my body toward the blinding brightness.

As I crossed the threshold, the sun's rays struck me like daggers, searing my pale skin. Pain exploded in my veins, hotter and sharper than any wound I had ever suffered. I gasped, the sound a raspy whisper, a plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears. The Betas reveled in my torment, their eyes alight with the thrill of victory.

I collapsed to my knees, the ground scorching against my flesh, the scent of burning skin filling the air. I could feel the sun gnawing at me, inching closer to my heart, threatening to turn me to ash. Panic surged through me, mingling with the pain. I was not ready to die—not like this, not after I had received a second chance.

“Let’s see how long he lasts,” another Beta taunted, stepping forward to watch as I writhed on the ground, my body now weakened and broken.

It was amazing how brutally the sun licked at my skin now and how painful it felt when I had floated on the sea bathed in sun for days before the fishermen found me, although at the time I was barely alive, but now…

Beneath the agony, a flicker of rage ignited in my chest. Not just because the Betas seemed to be having a blast at my suffering, but because the man who stood facing the sea remained nonchalant to their cruel acts toward me. With a guttural growl, I forced myself to rise, to stand against the blinding light, even as it licked at my skin.

But I knew I was trapped; the sun was an enemy I could not conquer. The light danced around me, a cruel reminder of my mortality, but my will remained unyielding. My body tends to have shifted rapidly these past weeks, and I wondered why. As a son of a Vampire and a human, I never thought of myself as True Blood. If only my mother could see me now.

See what I had become.

Her once precious little boy whom she would move mountains to protect.

“Uncle Dirk,” I drawled, my voice broken, pain eating at my being.

Dirk’s fists clenched tighter, nails digging into his palms. “You know why I’m here, Talon. You’re coming back with me.”

“Back to the Packhouse?” I raised an eyebrow, “And why would I want to do that? I’m quite comfortable here, thank you very much.”

“You’re a monster, Talon, and you’ve brought nothing but pain to this family. But I’ll do whatever it takes to save Altair, even if it means dragging you back by your fangs!” Dirk shouted, the hurt and anger bubbling to the surface.

“S-Save Altair?” I muttered, a sudden cold replacing the scorching sun on my skin. Paralyzed, I couldn’t muster a word. Even with Uncle Dirk's scent so potent around me, I still couldn’t feel Altair. What does he mean by saving Altair? Just what exactly had I done to him?!

What would make my uncle come out here himself to fetch me when it was clear he didn’t want me around at all?

"Take him!" he ordered, and a flash of light crossed my eyes like lightning, causing me to yelp in pain. Then, everything went dark.

"Virgil!" John shouted, his voice fading into the distance.

John…