𐂂

.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝘃.
𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕

The Wallow's Cottage
Forks, WA.
April 2010

𝓡ain softly pitter-pattered on the windshield of Leah's grey car, streaking down the glass in slow, weeping trails. The outside world was cloaked in a haze of silver and steel, the horizon blurred by a curtain of mist and drizzle. It was typical Forks weather — brooding and temperamental.

Spring was especially cruel. Only an hour ago the sky had been split with sunlight, golden warmth dancing through the trees and flickering off wet pavement. Now, thunder growled in the distance and the rain came down heavier, like the world itself had changed moods without warning. Evee had never minded the grey skies — in fact, they were comforting in a strange, melancholic way — but the unpredictability of Washington's weather annoyed her to no end. She hated not knowing what was coming.

Inside the car, warmth radiated from the vents, the air foggy with breath and the scent of pine and wet earth lingering from their jackets. Leah sat at the wheel, posture straight and eyes forward, her jaw set in a way that made her look miles away even though she was right there. Jacob was next to her in the passenger seat, leaned halfway toward her as he talked animatedly about some girl named Bella. His voice was deep and steady, but there was a tightness in his tone — the kind of careful calculation that came from talking about someone who had the power to break your heart.

Leah, for her part, didn't say much. She drove in silence, nodding occasionally, giving Jacob just enough to keep going but offering nothing of herself. She was nothing like her brother. Evee could already tell that much. Where Seth was sunshine and open doors, Leah was a locked room with no key in sight. Still, Evee didn't mind her quiet. It felt honest.

In the backseat, Evee sat pressed lightly against the door, her gaze flickering between the blur of the trees outside and Seth beside her. She felt strangely safe sitting next to him, like he was a beacon of something steady in a world she no longer understood. And despite everything — the night before, the questions in her head, the thunder that now rumbled louder across the mountains — when she looked at Seth, she couldn't help but smile.

"So," Seth hummed, breaking the silence between them with a crooked grin that made her stomach flutter. He leaned a little closer, his voice quiet — just enough to make sure Leah and Jacob wouldn't hear. "I know you've got questions."

Evee's smile widened, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "About a hundred," she admitted, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

Seth chuckled, his eyes warm and open. "Ask them. Anything. I'll tell you everything I can."

She hesitated for just a second, trying to find the right question — the one that had been tugging at her mind the hardest. "Well... for starters," she began, her voice low, "how? Like... how did you become a werewolf? Were you bitten? Scratched? Did it just happen one day?"

There was a pause. Seth glanced forward briefly, as if checking to make sure the others still weren't listening, before turning his gaze back to her. His expression shifted, growing a bit more serious — not sad exactly, but grounded. Like this was something he'd had to explain before, and each time still meant something.

"It's not like the movies," he said softly, shaking his head. "No one bit me. No one scratched me. It's... it's in us. In our blood." He tapped a hand lightly against his chest. "Something old. Something passed down through our people — the Quileutes. It only wakes up when it needs to. When there's danger."

"Danger like vampires," Evee whispered, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it out loud.

Seth nodded. "Yeah. When they come around, it triggers something in certain people. Not everyone — just those who are meant for it. It's like... it's like our bodies know. And once it starts, there's no going back."

Evee stared at him, her mind spinning. She took in the way his eyes darkened when he said the word vampires, the way he rubbed his palms against his jeans like the memories were clinging to him. "So... it just happened? One day you woke up and you were a wolf?"

"Not exactly. It's more... violent than that." His voice lowered. "It comes with anger. With confusion. It's like your whole body explodes and reforms all at once, and suddenly you're running on four legs and your heart's pounding and you can hear everything — everything. It's terrifying at first. But eventually, it gets easier. You learn to control it. To shift when you want to, not just when your emotions go off."

Evee swallowed, unsure what to say. She had expected something fantastical, but not this. Not something so real and painful.

"Does it... hurt?" she asked gently.

Seth tilted his head, thinking. "Not the way you'd think. It's not physical pain, not really. It's more like your soul is getting stretched too thin. Like your body is trying to hold something wild and ancient and it's not quite sure how to do it." He smiled faintly. "But you get used to it. You learn to carry it."

Evee studied him — the softness in his voice, the quiet strength behind his words. She couldn't imagine going through something like that. And yet here he was, so kind and gentle and... good.

"You're not what I expected," she said before she could stop herself.

Seth raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that a good thing?"

Evee laughed softly, a hint of pink touching her cheeks. "Yeah. It's a good thing."

For a few moments, the silence returned — but it wasn't uncomfortable this time. The car hummed with the rhythm of rain, the sound of tires slick on wet asphalt, and the soft breathing of four people trying to make sense of their own tangled lives. Evee leaned her head back against the window, exhaling slowly. She still had a hundred more questions — maybe even more now than before — but she felt... okay. Because Seth was next to her. And for now, that was enough.

Evee took Seth's hand in hers, her fingers brushing his palm gently. It was meant to be friendly — a show of trust, of comfort — but she didn't exactly mind if he took it another way. Her voice was steady when she said, "If I didn't want anything to do with you, I would've left last night."

Seth felt his heart skip like a stone over still water. Her hand was warm, her words even warmer, and he suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe right. A grin, wide and dopey, spread across his face before he could stop it. He really, really liked her. A lot a lot. And for a fleeting moment, he almost told her right then — wanted to let it all spill out in a rush of awkward honesty. But the words caught behind his teeth.

"We're here," Leah's voice cut in, dry and unimpressed from the front seat.

The moment shattered like glass. Seth and Evee looked up, startled to find the car parked, the engine off, and both Jacob and Leah turned around in their seats — watching them. No shame. No attempt to pretend they hadn't heard every word.

Evee's cheeks flushed with heat. She pulled her hand away quickly, mortified, and climbed out of the car without a word or a glance back. Her embarrassment prickled down her spine, making her want to crawl into the nearest hole or maybe throw herself into traffic — either would do.

Seth glared at the front seat. "Assholes," he muttered under his breath before swinging his door open and hopping out. He jogged a few steps to catch up with Evee, brushing his knuckles against hers in a subtle, hesitant motion as they walked side by side.

"Ignore them," he whispered, offering her a small, conspiratorial grin.

Evee glanced over at him, then behind them. Leah and Jacob were trailing a few feet behind, still watching, both wearing equally annoyed expressions like they were irritated to be caught eavesdropping. Evee raised a brow at them.

"Real mature," she called out with a grin.

Leah rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath. Jacob just smirked and shook his head. They were a weird pair — combative, sharp-tongued, constantly on each other's nerves — but oddly in sync, too. Like two magnets constantly flipping between repelling and attracting. It was hard to tell whether they were about to fight or finish each other's sentences.

As they approached the front steps of the house, Evee's pace slowed. Her stomach twisted, nerves bubbling in her chest. Her Aunt and Uncle. She hadn't thought about them since the night before — hadn't thought about what they'd say, what they'd think. Would they be angry? Disappointed? Would they believe her if she said she had no idea what pulled her into those woods? Probably not. No one ever did. People didn't like to believe in things they couldn't explain.

She lifted her hand to knock — but before her knuckles could graze the wood, the door flung open.

"Evee!" Jonah barreled forward, sweeping her into a hug so tight she nearly lost her breath.

"You're okay," he murmured into her hair, gripping her like he might lose her again if he let go.

"Okay, let's not crush her," came Logan's voice as he appeared in the doorway, grabbing both of them and lifting them into the air with one strong, overdramatic squeeze.

"Air!" Evee wheezed, her laugh bubbling out between gasps as the three of them broke into a mess of relieved laughter.

Jonah and Logan finally set her down, their eyes flickering to the unfamiliar faces lingering behind her.

Seth stepped forward, extending a hand, his signature lopsided grin firmly in place. "I'm Seth," he said.

Logan's brows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced sideways at Evee. "Oh, I've heard of you," he teased.

Evee's face turned bright red. She shot her brother a warning glare. Logan just shrugged, clearly enjoying himself, while Jonah gave Seth a firm handshake and a polite nod. Then their attention turned to the other two.

"And these would be the wolfies?" Logan asked, gesturing lazily toward Jacob and Leah, then back at Seth.

Evee's head snapped toward him, confusion overtaking her features. "Wait... how do you—?"

"Grams and Pops told us everything last night," Jonah answered, brushing a hand through his already-messy hair. His eyes flickered to Leah, studying her for a beat longer than necessary before glancing back at Evee.

"Yeah," Logan added with a chuckle. "It was the only way to stop us from grabbing Dad's shotgun and hitting the woods ourselves."

Jonah turned toward Jacob, Seth, and Leah, his expression earnest. "Thank you. So, so much." His voice cracked slightly, the gratitude in his eyes making up for the words he couldn't find. Evee was his best friend — the idea of losing her was something he couldn't even begin to process.

Leah gave a quick nod, her smile stiff and awkward. "Yeah! Yeah, of course!" she blurted out, her tone too chipper to be natural.

Seth and Jacob both blinked at her, confused by the sudden burst of enthusiasm. Jacob raised a brow. Seth just smirked.

"Yes, yes! Thank you, you guys have a good one!" Logan called as he started ushering Evee inside, his tone light but sincere.

The trio turned to head back toward the car when Evee suddenly pulled out of her brother's grasp.

"Wait—just one second." She spun on her heel. "Seth, wait!"

He turned around just as she reached him, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight, spontaneous hug. He melted into it, eyes closing as he breathed her in, letting his forehead rest gently against her shoulder. For a moment, everything else faded — the storm, the noise, the waiting car — and it was just the two of them.

Evee lingered for thirty seconds longer than she meant to before finally pulling away, a reluctant smile on her lips.

"I still have questions for you," she said, lifting a finger and pointing it playfully at him.

Seth grinned at the gesture, that familiar spark dancing in his eyes. "Mhm." His gaze flickered downward, just briefly, drawn to her lips without meaning to — and longing for something more than just the press of her arms around him. Just one kiss. That's all he wanted.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked. "Pick you up around ten?"

"See you then," Evee agreed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced past him toward the car where Jacob sat in the passenger seat, barely containing a laugh. Leah, on the other hand, looked like she was seconds away from throwing a wrench through the windshield — though Evee couldn't quite tell if that was just her resting murder face.

Seth caught her glance and chuckled under his breath. He gave her a small nod, gathering his courage. "Evee, I—" he began, his voice low and tentative, something more resting on the edge of his words.

Honk!

The sharp blare of the car horn cut him off. Seth jumped slightly, his head snapping toward the car. Leah was behind the wheel, waving her arms like a frantic traffic controller, her expression anything but patient.

"Sorry," he mumbled with a frown, turning back to Evee. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"It's okay! I'll see you in the morning!" Evee chirped, giving Seth a final smile as she turned to walk back toward the house.

Seth opened the car door but paused when he heard her voice again.

"Oh, and Seth!"

They both turned at the same time, eyes meeting.

"Thank you," she said, her voice soft but full of sincerity.

He smiled at her — wide and crooked and impossibly warm. Then they turned away, parting for the day.

The moment Evee stepped inside, the comfort of Seth's presence dissolved. Her stomach twisted as she found her family sitting around the dining room table like they were waiting for her to give a speech—or receive one.

Millicent, her grandmother, sat at the head of the table with Logan and Jonah on either side. Her grandfather stood near the back door, arms crossed, his usual gentle demeanor subdued by tension.

Evee swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, this is formal."

"Here, dear," Millicent said with a kind smile, sliding a steaming mug of tea toward her.

"Ah, so this is tea-worthy?" Evee joked, wrapping her fingers around the mug to hide her nerves.

"Chamomile tea, matter of fact," Logan added with a smirk, but the laughter he hoped for didn't come. Millicent's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked... worried.

"Grams? I mean, c'mon. It's not like there's anything weirder you could tell me. I just found out the guy I like turns into a wolf, so..." Evee let out a dry laugh and took a sip of the tea, the warmth grounding her—until she looked up and saw the serious expression on Millicent's face.

Her smile faltered.

"Oh, so you do like him?" Logan teased with a grin, clearly trying to cut the tension.

His triumph was short-lived.

"Not the time," Jonah muttered, elbowing him sharply in the ribs and nodding toward Millicent and their uncle, whose faces were drawn tight with concern.

Millicent leaned forward, folding her hands neatly on the table. "Before you get angry," she began gently, "let me explain everything."

Evee blinked, the words hitting her like a slap.

"Angry?" she repeated, her voice thin and tight. Her heartbeat quickened. "Why would I be angry?"

The air shifted, the soft tick of the old wall clock suddenly the loudest thing in the room. Her fingers curled around the teacup as if it might steady the anxious pit rising in her chest.

Millicent hesitated, then exchanged another glance with her husband—one that said, It's time.

He gave her a small nod.

Millicent turned back to Evee, her expression full of something between sorrow and love.

"Because, darling... the truth isn't just about Seth. It's about you, too."

"Just listen, dear." Thackeray gently placed his hand atop Evee's, offering a warm smile meant to steady her nerves.

Millicent reached for a small stack of old photographs, her eyes misty with memory. "Your mother had a best friend. Her name was Sophia. Tara and James—your parents—they were always around here at the house, ever since they got together in middle school. And naturally, Sophia was part of that little trio. She was... complicated. Misunderstood, especially as she got older. But your mom understood her better than anyone."

She passed the pictures across the table to Evee. The first was of two radiant women on a wedding day—Tara in a white gown, and Sophia beside her, beaming. The second photo showed Tara holding a toddler-aged Logan on her hip. Standing beside her was Sophia again, visibly pregnant.

Evee stared, her eyes locking onto Sophia's rounded belly.

Millicent took a breath. "Sophia was different. She had gifts, even then. The kind that make people uncomfortable. The kind most pretend don't exist."

"Gifts?" Evee echoed, leaning in.

Millicent hesitated. "You and Sophia are... one in the same, darling. Both drawn to death."

The words landed like a weight in Evee's chest.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "How did you know that I..."

"Your parents told me," Millicent said softly, "at the very first sign of it. Before you could even understand what was happening."

Thackeray squeezed her hand. "They were scared. Not of you—but for you."

"Of what?" Evee asked, her voice rising. "And why would I have the same abilities as this random Sophia woman I'm just now hearing about for the first time?"

Her voice cracked at the end, anger and confusion swelling inside her chest like a dam about to burst.

Millicent flinched slightly, then spoke softly. "Sophia... she got into some trouble. She was fresh out of college, lost, didn't know what to do with her life. And she got involved with the wrong people. With the wrong man."

Millicent's eyes darted to Thackeray, then back to Evee.

"She got pregnant," Millicent said quietly. "With you."

Evee froze.

"With—" she choked on the word, staggering back a step from the table. "Me?"

"Evangeline, please—"

"What the hell, Grams?!" Evee shouted, hands flying to her head as the truth smashed into her like a tidal wave. "You've known this my whole life and you never told me?"

"Evee, my dear..." Millicent's voice trembled. "I'm so sorry. Your parents—Tara and James—they wanted to tell you. They were just waiting for the right moment. And then they..."

Her voice broke as tears welled in her eyes. "Then they were gone."

Hot tears of anger streamed down Evee's face. Her chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, the world around her suddenly unfamiliar—like it had been flipped inside out.

She felt lied to. Betrayed. By her parents—who, it turns out, weren't even her parents at all.

"Where is she?" Evee blurted out, her voice shaking. "My mother. Where is she?"

Thackeray reached across the table, gently taking Millicent's hand in his own.

"We don't know, my dear," he said softly. "She vanished. Left you here with Tara and a note. After a year of silence... your parents decided to leave Forks, to get as far away as they could. They wanted to start over. Protect you."

Evee's lips trembled. "So—the abilities? The gifts, or whatever—what is it? What am I?"

Millicent exhaled slowly, her face pale. "You're what they call a banshee. It's an ancient, powerful gift in the supernatural world. A connection to death... to warning. To souls."

"A banshee," Evee repeated bitterly. "Great. So I'm a freak with a death radar."

"No," Millicent said quickly, but gently. "You are gifted. Chosen. I wish I could tell you more, but... I fear I don't know much beyond that."

"Well," Evee snapped, wiping her tears roughly from her cheeks. "I plan on finding out."

She turned and stormed up the stairs, the weight of truth chasing her all the way to her bedroom. The door slammed behind her, a sharp final note to the conversation.

"Evee, wait—" Jonah called after her, rising from his chair.

But the only answer was silence.

"No, no," Millicent murmured, resting a hand on Jonah's arm. "Let her. She needs time. She'll come around... You know our girl."

Thackeray reached over and wiped a tear from her cheek, placing a soft kiss against her forehead. The house settled into a hushed tension, the kind that follows the breaking of something delicate.

Evee let out a loud, frustrated sob into her pillow, the fabric muffling the sound as her shoulders trembled. Rage. Confusion. Hurt. Loss. It all came crashing down on her at once—one wave after another until she could barely breathe through it.

Everything felt like a lie. Her parents. Her identity. Even her life.

She cried until her body ached from it, until her throat burned and her tear ducts ran dry. Eventually, the flood subsided to a quiet drizzle—just sniffles and shallow breaths.

Still lying on her bed, she reached for her laptop with shaky fingers and flipped it open. The screen's soft glow illuminated her tear-streaked face in the dark.

Her hands hovered for a second over the keyboard before she began typing:
Banshee.