He clutched his abdomen. A deep growl escaped his lips as pain surged through his body, and his knees buckled.
In his weakened state, his hand swept across the sink, sending items crashing to the floor. He dragged the entire sink down with him, an involuntary display of his unusual strength.
Staring at the blood on his palms, his mind flashed back to the previous night's encounter with the White wolf. He had never faced one so unusually strong. Like him, a lone wolf.
Just then, Regal, his butler, burst into the room, fear and concern evident on his face. "Master Darvin!" he exclaimed as he hurried into the private bathroom, finding his master on the floor, still growling in pain.
"What happened to you?" he asked, reaching out to touch Darvin's forehead. "You're burning up."
Darvin lay there, barely comprehending Regal's words as his vision blurred and then slowly faded to black.
When he began to regain consciousness, the sound of Regal's voice making a serious phone call filled his ears, first as a mumble and then slowly becoming clear.
"Hang up! Immediately!" Darvin shouted, the pain making his voice hoarse. He noticed his wounds had been dressed by his butler.
"Master Darvin, you're awake," Regal said, quickly hanging up the phone.
"How dare you!" Darvin tried to rise, but the pain made it difficult. He struggled to stand, his anger evident.
"You were hurt. I had to call..." Regal hesitated as he watched Darvin slowly get to his feet. "...You'll still feel the pain for a little longer since it was from claws, but it should heal soon."
"My duty is to protect you, Young master. That's why I've stood by you all this time. We haven't been here long, and if there's a threat, we need to leave," he continued, trying to reason with his master while Darvin dressed to leave.
Darvin moved toward the door, but Regal stepped in his way. "Move!" Darvin growled, his fangs beginning to show, his blue eyes shifting to a mesmerizing gold. "I left the pack. I don't need their help, and I don't want you calling my father about anything else," he commanded in a deep, authoritative tone.
Regal reluctantly stepped aside, whether out of fear or the realization that holding Darvin back in this state wasn't wise. Darvin grabbed the car keys and a novel from the small table by the door and stormed out.
The drive to Maplewoods was tense, anger simmering under the surface. Darvin's mind raced as he headed toward his destination. It was almost six, and the drive from the estate was quiet and quick. He parked far away from the coffee shop he liked, hoping not to draw attention and to calm down.
He walked into the coffee shop, the doorbell jingling softly as he entered. Mrs. Sutcliffe, the elderly woman who ran the place, was giving instructions to her sales boy, Carl. She smiled warmly at Darvin, signaling for him to give her a moment. After a few final instructions and a double tap on Carl's shoulder, she sent him off on an errand and moved to take Darvin's order.
"Hello, young man. You look pale. Are you okay?" she asked, her smile full of warmth. She always reminded him of his mother, and her presence was comforting.
"I'm fine, just a little under the weather," he replied.
"The usual?" she asked with a knowing smile.
"The usual," he chuckled, taking a seat by the window. A few minutes later, she brought his coffee to the table. He flipped through the book in his hands, but his mind kept drifting back to the events of the previous night and the pain he had felt earlier that evening.
The doorbell jingled again, breaking his thoughts.
It was her. Jane.
Despite everything, this place brought him a sense of peace, and watching her interact with her mother always calmed him. Her smile was genuine, and the bond they shared was something he hadn't experienced in a long time.
He could hear their conversation from where he sat, though he stayed focused on his book. They weren't loud, but his senses were much sharper than any human's.
He smiled behind his book when he heard Mrs. Sutcliffe tease Jane about looking at him. He watched stealthily as she stepped up to reach for the container.
Darvin's heart tightened when he heard Mrs. Sutcliffe warn Jane about the rumors of werewolves returning to Maplewoods. Guilt and uncertainty clouded his mind. The thought of being a threat to this peaceful place weighed heavily on him.
As he sat there, pretending to read, he couldn't shake the feeling that his presence here might bring danger to those he had grown fond of.
The encounter with the White wolf had left him more rattled than he wanted to admit. It wasn't just the physical pain, but the realization that he wasn't as alone in Maplewoods as he thought.
The idea that another lone wolf, possibly as strong as him, was nearby was unsettling. He had left the pack to live on his own terms, away from politics and power struggles.
But now, trouble had found him anyway.
The coffee shop was a refuge, a place where he could briefly escape the weight of his reality. But sitting there, surrounded by the familiar warmth and comfort, he realized that he could no longer ignore the looming danger.
He had to find the White Wolf again and confront him again.
Darvin glanced up from his book, watching as Jane and her mother continued their conversation, oblivious to the storm brewing within him. He knew he had to leave, but for a few more moments, he allowed himself to linger in the simple, quiet normalcy of the coffee shop. It was a rare slice of peace in his otherwise tumultuous life, and he wasn't ready to let it go just yet.
As the minutes ticked by, he finished his coffee and closed his book. He stood up, preparing to leave, but not before casting one last look at Jane.
There was something about her kindness and strength that drew him in. But he knew he couldn't afford to get too close, not with the threat hanging over him.
With a heavy heart, he left the coffee shop, the doorbell's chime jingling behind him. The cool evening air hit his face as he stepped outside, and he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what lay ahead. He had a problem now, one that he couldn't ignore.
As he walked back to his car, it was night already, and with it, the shadows of the past were beginning to creep in. But he was ready. He had to be.
*****
The news of Jenny Ketles' death spread like wildfire, and by Wednesday morning, the rumors were confirmed by local news outlets.
Jane was determined to stay on top of the story, not just because it was her big break, but because she knew Jenny well enough to have passed messages through her to Ethan, her then ex-boyfriend. Jane used to bribe her with a few bucks or gifts in exchange for favors.
The sputtering sound of the car engine jolted Jane back to reality.
"That's a sign the car's on its last legs," Mark teased, adjusting himself in the passenger seat.
"Shut up," Jane retorted, though there was no real anger in her voice.
"Okay, okay," he surrendered with a grin.
Jane turned the key again, and after a few protests from the engine, it finally roared back to life. Mark furrowed his brows, giving her a look that clearly said, You need to get this car checked.
After what felt like an endless, exhausting drive, they finally rolled into Maplewoods.
"Finally," Mark sighed with relief.
Jane ignored his jibe, parking the car in front of an old cathedral. A swarm of people was pouring out while a few others were still making their way in for the 8 a.m. mass.
She sighed, unbuckling her seatbelt.
"I really need to get the car checked," she muttered, more to herself than to Mark.
"You think?" Mark quipped, but his tone shifted when he noticed the change in her expression.
"Are you sure you want to pursue this?" he asked, his voice softening. "You don't look..."
"Jenny's mom used to make the best jelly buns," Jane interrupted, her voice distant as she recalled the past.
"She died last year, and her dad's been a useless drunk ever since."
Mark nodded, sensing the weight of the situation. "So, are you sure you want to take this on?"
Jane looked at him, her resolve hardening. "No, I'm not sure I want to do this, but I need to find out what really happened to her."
Mark studied her for a moment, then sighed. "Alright. Let's get to the bottom of this."
Jane nodded, her determination unwavering. Together, they stepped out of the car and into the streets of Maplewoods.
The scene was anything but calm. A massive crowd had gathered, murmuring and issuing protests here and there. A few policemen were doing their best to keep the crowd at bay, holding them back from the crime scene tape.
"Do you think we can get past that?" Mark asked, eyeing the chaos ahead.
"We have our press passes, so it shouldn't be a problem," Jane replied confidently.
"And what about him?" Mark nodded toward a grizzled, middle-aged man with a solid build. He was dressed professionally, with a police badge prominently pinned to his shirt.
"I'll handle him," Jane said, trying to feign a bit of confidence, perhaps to appear tough in front of her partner.
As they moved closer to the taped-off area, a policeman stopped them, drawing the attention of the detective she had hoped to avoid.
"Passes, please," the policeman requested.
They both showed their press passes, and after a brief glance, the officer allowed them to pass.
"If it isn't Jane Sutcliffe of Gossip Town," the detective said, stepping directly into their path.
"Hello, Boldeye," Jane greeted him, her voice laced with disinterest and irritation.
"It's Detective Cadel to you," he corrected sharply, then turned his attention to Mark, who offered a salute-like gesture. The detective gave him a curt nod in return.
"There's nothing to write about here, Sutcliffe. No gossip," he emphasized, his hands resting on his hips.
"You don't think people need to know about the death of a young citizen and the recent disappearances?" she shot back, her voice almost too loud.
Detective Cadel glanced around quickly, perhaps checking to see if anyone had overheard her. The last thing he wanted was to stir up panic over false news.
"Listen, stay out of my way. Don't poke your nose into my business, and I won't poke into yours," he warned, mistrust evident in his tone.
He gave her one last, hard look, then did the same to Mark before stepping aside to let them through.
A few steps ahead, Jenny's body lay in the early stages of decomposition. She had been dead for at least four days, and the smell of decay filled the air. Jane covered her nose with her handkerchief, her eyes filling with tears.
She wasn't sure if it was the smell or the sadness that made her cry. A deep claw mark ran from Jenny's chest down to her lower abdomen, and the wound had started to fester. The sight was almost unbearable.
As Jane watched, the policemen gently covered Jenny's pale body and carefully lifted her into a body bag. The finality of the moment weighed heavily on Jane's heart, and she felt a pang of sorrow for the young life that had been so brutally cut short.
"Let's leave," Mark said, concerned, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently pull her away from the scene she was glued to. She discreetly wiped her tears, not wanting her partner to see.
"Okay," she whispered.
As she lifted her head to leave, a familiar figure caught her eye, someone she could recognize even in her sleep. She knew him too well.
His expression mirrored that of the other onlookers, but there was something different in his hazel eyes. Fear, and perhaps a deeper knowledge of what had happened.
He didn't notice Jane's gaze and quickly turned to walk away.
"Time to visit the mechanic," Jane said, her tone shifting. "It's high time I got my car checked, and paid an old friend a visit."
Mark sensed the sudden, unrelated change in the conversation but recognized that tone. She was on to something.
"Alright, partner," he replied, stepping aside to let her lead the way.