Quinn had been bracing herself for the sound of the door clicking shut, the usual finality that would signal Isaac's departure. But instead, she was left standing in the suffocating silence, her heart pounding, the pressure of his presence heavy behind her. She had told him to leave, but the air seemed to thicken, and she realized that despite her words, neither of them had moved. Isaac hadn't gone. He was still there. It was as though he was rooted to the ground, unwilling to let go, even when she had pushed him away.

She could feel the tremors building within her, the inner struggle that threatened to take over. She was desperate to keep control. She feared that if she gave in if she allowed her instincts to fully take over, she would do what she hated most—she would hurt him. The very idea of it made her sick to her stomach, but there was an undeniable pull within her, an urge to lash out. And even though they weren't technically friends anymore, the thought of sinking her claws into Isaac—someone who had been so close to her once—felt impossible to ignore.

"Quinn," Isaac's voice broke through the tension, soft and concerned, but Quinn could hear the underlying hesitation in his tone. His hand reached out toward her, but she instinctively recoiled, her body tensing as if reacting to the magnetic pull between them. If he got any closer, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stop herself. The pressure in her chest mounted, and the desire to sink her claws into his flesh grew with each second that he lingered behind her.

Before she could pull herself together, she felt Isaac's hand brushing against her skin. Panic surged through her, and she spun around, her claws already digging into his arm. A low, animalistic growl escaped her throat, sharp and feral, as she struggled to fight back the bloodlust that burned in her veins. But it wasn't just the hunger for blood that tore at her—it was the intense rush of emotions swirling inside her: the pain, the abandonment, the confusion. All of it collided within her, and the control she had fought so hard to maintain slipped through her fingers.

"Quinn..." Isaac's voice trembled with pain as he looked at her, his eyes wide with both concern and a deep, unspoken regret. "Find your anchor," he urged, his words calm but strained. The moment the words left his mouth, Quinn's golden eyes locked onto his, and she saw the moment when his own expression shifted. He noticed the change in her, saw the way her teeth began to elongate, the feral gleam of her eyes growing brighter, and her nails sinking deeper into his skin.

"You left me," Quinn's voice no longer resembled the gentle tone he once knew. It was low, guttural, more wolf than girl. "You left me all alone."

Isaac's heart clenched at her words. He knew what she was feeling. He could see it in her eyes—the hurt, the betrayal. It was the same pain he had seen in her eyes so many times before, but now it was amplified, raw, and savage. "I know, Quinn," he whispered, his voice ragged. He didn't try to pull away. He didn't fight her grip. "I'm so sorry," he continued, his breath shaky as he winced in pain, feeling her claws tear deeper into his flesh. "I know you're probably sick of hearing that word, but I can't undo what I did."

Her laugh was bitter, sharp like broken glass. She shook her head as she looked up at him, her golden eyes narrowing with disbelief. "Exactly," she snapped, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. "Why even bother trying?"

Isaac swallowed hard, struggling to breathe through the pain. His blood soaked into his shirt, but he didn't care. "Because you are the most important person to me, Quinn," he said, his voice thick with emotion. It was the truth. She had always been the most important person in his life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her completely.

Quinn's expression twisted, her lips curling into a cynical smile. "Do people normally leave the people who are important to them?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sadness.

Isaac's chest tightened as her words cut into him. "No," he replied quietly, his voice filled with regret. "I thought I was doing it to protect you."

"Protect me?" Quinn repeated slowly, disbelief lacing her words. Isaac nodded, gritting his teeth as the pain surged through him.

"I thought if I kept you away from all of this..." He trailed off for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "I thought that if I kept you out of the supernatural world, you'd be safe. You wouldn't be a target. I wanted to keep you away from all of it... so you wouldn't get hurt."

Quinn's golden eyes bore into his, unwavering, as she processed his words. The scent of his blood still lingered in the air, and for a moment, the overwhelming wave of hunger surged again. But this time, it wasn't just the bloodlust—it was the realization of how deep his sacrifice had run. Isaac had left her because he thought it would protect her. He had decided to separate himself from her, to shield her from the darkness that consumed him. But in doing so, he had only pushed her further away.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, and the realization hit her like a freight train. Her claws were still buried in his skin, and her hands were slick with his blood. The warmth of it seeped into her palms, and she recoiled in horror. Panic surged through her as she saw the blood staining her hands. Her body froze, her mind racing to find a way to stop. She didn't want this. She didn't want to hurt him.

In a sharp, panicked movement, she pulled her hands away from his arms, stumbling back in shock. The blood on her hands seemed to burn, as though it was seeping into her very soul. Her breath hitched in her chest, and she fought against the overwhelming sense of self-loathing that threatened to consume her.

Her eyes widened in horror as she looked at her bloodstained hands. A scream tore from her throat, raw and guttural, the kind of scream that came from deep within her—a scream that echoed through the walls of the house. It was the sound of pain, of regret, of everything she had been holding in, finally spilling out.

Isaac didn't hesitate. He didn't step back or make a move to escape. Instead, he pulled her into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her, holding her close as her sobs wracked her body. He ran one hand gently through her hair, the other holding her steady as if by doing so, he could anchor her, keep her from slipping completely away. He didn't say a word. There was nothing he could say that would make this better. Instead, he placed soft, lingering kisses on her forehead, murmuring comforting words that only she could hear.

The minutes stretched on, the sound of her screams dying down into soft whimpers. Her body shook, her breath coming in uneven gasps, but Isaac never let go. He didn't leave her. And he never would. Not this time.

Slowly, her cries subsided, and the only sound left was the faintest whimper, her body trembling in his arms. But Isaac didn't release her. He knew that the moment he did, she would break again. He held her tightly, unwilling to let her fall apart alone. She wasn't alone anymore—not while he was there.