Chapter 5
1565words
"My name is Frank," he began, his voice hoarse and ragged from howling all night, as if scraped with sandpaper. "I..." he swallowed painfully, feeling the words like stones stuck in his throat, "I am... deeply sorry for everything I've put you through. There's no excuse for my behavior, but I owe you an explanation."
Nina didn't speak. She just stared at him, her knuckles turning bloodless white as she gripped the armchair with excessive force.
"What you saw last night... was real," he continued, pushing out words one by one like extracting stones from his chest. "I am a... werewolf."
He let this absurd, grotesque statement—one that would make any normal person think him insane—ferment quietly in the air.
He could clearly feel her intense inner turmoil mixed with fear and utter disbelief. Before she dismissed all of this as madness, he had to continue.
"My kind... we really exist. We live among you, hiding. The full moon... for us, without suppressant medication, is lethal. It drives us completely mad until our bodies collapse and die from exhaustion. Last night someone tampered with my potion."
He risked a quick glance at her.
Her expression hadn't changed at all. She was like a statue struck by lightning, completely frozen.
"That's why I was in the park. I was trying to get away from people—I was about to lose control. Then you spoke to me..." he paused, her scent, her voice, that memory still a vivid, physical sensation. "Then... something happened. Something I've only read about in the most ancient texts."
He finally plucked up his courage and forced himself to meet her gaze. "In my world, we have only one soul mate. We call them 'destined companions.' This bond is immediate, absolute, and transcends all other instincts. Even the madness of the moon cannot compete with it."
"The moment I heard your voice, the wolf inside me... it recognized you. All it wanted was to take you to a place it deemed safe. Its den." He vaguely gestured at the apartment. "It was a primal, uncontrollable instinct—the beast desperately protecting its mate. I'm sorry for the terror I caused you."
"I know this sounds crazy," he concluded, his voice dropping to nothing more than an exhausted whisper. "I know you're scared. You have every right to be. The elevator isn't locked. My security personnel won't stop you. You can walk out of here right now, and I swear, I will never bother you again."
He held his breath, waiting. Waiting for her to flee. Waiting for her to scream.
Nina remained silent for a very, very long time.
By now, morning sunlight had completely filled the room, exposing everything that had happened under its clear, sharp light. Frank, wrapped in his makeshift covering, stood like a king stripped of all power in his own castle, utterly helpless before the frightened girl sitting in an armchair.
Finally, she spoke. Her voice tiny and hoarse.
"My portfolio," she said. "I lost it. In the park."
.
Frank stared at her, his brilliantly intelligent brain completely shutting down.
After all the terrifying things he had just revealed, her response was... about a student's art portfolio.
It was the most absurd, most humane, and most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life.
He had anticipated her screams, her tears, her hasty escape. He had even prepared himself mentally for the inevitable outcome of being completely rejected. But among the ten thousand possibilities his chaotic mind had conceived, he had never, not even for a moment, prepared himself to face... this level of pragmatism.
But she changed the subject.
She no longer treated him like a monster.
A suppressed, strange sound between a laugh and a sob escaped from his throat. He quickly covered his mouth, forcing it down, but the overwhelming, almost dizzying sense of enormous relief could not be contained.
She didn't run. She didn't call the police. She was even... still trying to engage with him.
"Of course," he said, his voice unusually thick with some intense, turbulent emotion he couldn't name. "Of course. I'll do it right away."
He turned, walking with great strides toward the built-in intercom on the wall, the soft cashmere blanket around his waist swaying with his movements. He could clearly feel her gaze following him—scrutinizing, quietly assessing. He pressed the talk button forcefully.
Through the speaker, after a brief delay, came a tinny, extremely anxious voice: "Frank? Thank God! Are you alright? The executives are all on standby, we've been trying to contact you all night. There are security alerts all over your vehicle's route, we're going crazy..."
Frank coldly interrupted him, his tone leaving no room for argument: "I'm fine. You have only one priority task now. Send someone immediately to the northwest corner of University Park. Last night, a portfolio was dropped there, near that old maple tree. Find it within an hour, then bring it here intact."
On the other end of the intercom was a half-second of complete, shocked silence. Then the voice returned, filled with bewildered confusion, "...A drawing folder? Sir?"
"Did you understand?" Frank repeated.
"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" The voice on the other end, as if scalded by fire, immediately gave the most resounding reply.
Frank turned off the intercom, turned around, and faced her again.
He watched as Nina slowly, with somewhat stiff movements, stood up from that enormous armchair. Every movement she made was filled with exhaustion. He stood motionless, giving her space, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides to restrain the mad impulse to rush forward and take her into his arms.
She walked past the jewels scattered on the ground—which he had offered as courtship gifts—without sparing them a single glance. Her bare feet silently stepped across the cold marble, finally disappearing into the open kitchen area separated from the main living space by a long island counter.
He heard cabinets opening. Soft clinks between ceramic vessels. Then the gentle flowing sound of water from the purifier.
A few minutes later, when the anxiety in his heart was about to reach its peak, she reappeared.
In her hands, she steadily held two simple white ceramic mugs. Warm steam rose from the cups, carrying the rich, soul-soothing aroma of coffee beans into the air.
She walked toward him, her steps still carrying a hint of hesitation from surviving a calamity, yet remarkably determined. She stopped a few steps away and held out one of the cups.
"You look like you need this," she said.
Her voice was still like a fragile feather, with a slight hoarseness, but this time, it was steady.
Frank stared intently at the cup as if it were the legendary Holy Grail that could heal all wounds. His hands were trembling uncontrollably, and he knew that if he reached out to take it, she would surely see.
But he no longer cared.
Slowly and solemnly, he extended his hand and took the cup from her.
Nina cradled her own cup with both hands, like a small animal seeking warmth. She didn't look at him but instead gazed out the window toward the massive steel city slowly awakening in the morning light.
"I can't promise to stop being afraid right away," she said softly, her voice barely audible amidst the whispers of the city. "Every cell in my brain is still screaming at me to run away and never look back."
Frank's heart was squeezed tightly by an invisible hand. "You should do that," he said hoarsely. "That would be the most rational and only correct choice."
She finally turned her head slowly to look at him.
Those beautiful eyes that were previously filled with fear and panic now appeared extraordinarily clear in the morning light. There was a serenity in them he had never seen before, mixed with profound weariness and curiosity. Those eyes carried all the memories of that monster, yet right now, they were looking at this man.
"Maybe," she admitted, a small smile with a hint of sadness touching the corner of her lips. "But I also saw a... creature bearing pain I thought couldn't exist in this world. And I saw him... choose not to hurt me, even in his most frenzied state." She took a deep breath, as if gathering courage.
"I don't know what all this means. I don't know who you really are—or what you are."
She took another small step forward, completely eliminating that safe yet distant space between them, until they were only a foot apart.
"But I think I'm willing to figure it out."
Frank looked at Nina, truly looked at her.
In her clear eyes, what he saw was not the end of his world.
What he saw was the... beginning of a whole new world.
"I'm willing too." he said.
They stood there for a very long time. Bathed in the brilliant morning light of a new day, two souls who found each other amidst the ruins of nightmares, quietly sharing a cup of coffee and a silent promise about the future.
