Signed Away

–(Markus)–

The first thing I heard was the sound of beeping. My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion, and it took a moment before I could open them. When I finally did, I was met with the stark white walls of a room. Looking around, I saw the typical things you'd expect in a hospital: monitors, IV stands, and sterile equipment.

Why was I in a hospital?

I tried to piece together what had happened, sifting through the fog in my mind.

I remembered getting a text from John.

Did I punch him? Why would I do that?

The woods. Running. Pain.

A sudden pressure built in my chest, and my breathing grew hoarse. The machines next to me started beeping faster, the sound sharp and urgent.

Panic set in, and soon an alarm blared. A nurse rushed into the room, speaking to me, but her words didn't register. I couldn't catch my breath.

I tried to sit up, desperate to escape the suffocating pressure, but she placed a hand on my chest, trying to keep me down.

Wrong move.

Her touch only fueled my panic. I thrashed, fighting to get free, to escape whatever was holding me down.

Another nurse entered, and together they managed to restrain me. One of them administered a sedative, and everything faded to black.

The next time I woke, the room was dimly lit, and someone was sitting nearby.

"Well, look who decided to wake up," the man said, his voice casual but firm.

I blinked, trying to focus on him as he continued.

"You've been in and out of it for a week. Your parents have been informed that you're fully conscious. First things first—you're no longer human. Second, you can't go back to your parents. Yes, your parents know you're a werewolf, and they've been informed that you'll be coming with me when we get you out of here. They fought against it—not that it was difficult to persuade them—but it's for everyone's safety that you stay with the pack for the time being."

"Questions?"

Before I could even open my mouth, he carried on.

"Look, you got lucky I was patrolling our pack's territory that night. Your parents will be arriving shortly, but for now, here's what you need to know: your recovery is going to be slow. You haven't shifted under a full moon yet, and if you tried to now, you'd probably finish the job that rogue started. And I'll be frank—you'll definitely have some psychological trauma from that night."

Before he continued, I interrupted him. "Who are you?"

"Oh, how rude of me. My name is Michael, and I'm the pack's Alpha." He stood up, and that was when I truly got a good view of him. He was massive, standing at 6'6" with a muscle-bound frame.

"I'll leave you alone with your parents for a bit. I'll come back when you're discharged and take you to the pack's compound. There, we'll work on getting control of your instincts and start some physical training."

Without another word, he walked out of the room.

A few minutes passed before the door opened again. My parents stood by the doorway. Noah was in front of them and didn't hesitate to rush to my bedside. He leaned down and hugged me. It took a moment before I slowly raised my hands to return the hug. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my parents tense when I closed my arms around Noah, as if I might hurt him.

I was disgusted by the insinuation that I would hurt my own brother.

"Hey, Noah. How have you been holding up?"

"How have I been holding up? How have you been holding up?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I've only been awake for, like, an hour, I think."

I hesitated, unsure how much to say to Noah. How could I explain what had happened when I didn't fully understand it myself?

Noah pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning me like he was searching for hidden injuries—the ones that aren't physical. "You were asleep for a week. A whole week, Markus. I thought… I thought you weren't going to wake up."

His voice cracked, and guilt clawed at me. Noah was only thirteen, and I'd been the one constant in his life. Seeing him like this—so shaken—made my chest ache.

"I'm okay," I said softly, though the words were a total lie. "I'm still here."

Noah didn't seem convinced, but he nodded, wiping at his eyes.

Our parents stayed near the door, their postures stiff. Mom clutched her purse like it was a lifeline, while Dad stood with his hands in his pockets, his jaw tight. They looked at me like I was a stranger.

"Mom. Dad." My voice came out quieter than I intended, but it was enough to get their attention.

"Markus," Mom said, stepping forward hesitantly. "Are… are you feeling alright?"

"I guess so," I replied, though I wasn't sure what "alright" was supposed to feel like anymore.

Dad cleared his throat. "We were so worried, son. When we got the call…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"But now you're awake," Mom added quickly, forcing a smile. "That's what matters."

I could see through their expressions. They were relieved I was alive, but there was something else beneath the surface—fear.

Fear of me.

I couldn't blame them. Michael had already said it. I wasn't human anymore.

"Are you okay with this?" I asked, the question tumbling out before I could stop it.

Their expressions faltered.

"It's… a lot to process," Mom admitted.

"We just want what's best for you," Dad said, though his voice was too even, too rehearsed.

I wanted to believe them, but the tension in the room told a different story.

Noah shifted beside me, breaking the silence. "What happens now?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before the door creaked open. Michael stepped back in with a wheelchair, his presence commanding as ever.

"The paperwork is done, and you're cleared for discharge. It's time to get moving," he said simply, addressing the room.

Noah stiffened, looking between me and Michael. "Time for what?"

"Markus is coming with me," Michael said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The pack will help him adjust to his new life."

"No," Noah said firmly, his voice stronger than I expected. "He's not going anywhere without me."

"Noah—" I started, but Michael cut me off.

"The pack is his best chance to survive," Michael said, his gaze locking onto Noah. "This isn't up for debate."

"He's my brother!" Noah shot back. "I'm not leaving him!"

Michael raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being challenged. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but then his expression softened—just slightly.

"The bond you share with your brother is strong," Michael said, almost grudgingly. "But it's not safe for you to come with us. Not yet."

"Why not?" Noah demanded.

"Because Markus has a lot to learn," Michael said bluntly. "And until he has control, being around you could be dangerous."

"I'd never hurt him!" I protested, my voice sharp.

Michael's gaze shifted to me, unreadable. "Maybe not intentionally. But you haven't learned to control the primal instinct, and it doesn't care about intentions."

The words stung, but I couldn't argue with them.

Noah's hands balled into fists. "I don't care. I'm staying with him."

Michael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, kid, you can visit," he said at last, his tone reluctant. "But for now, Markus needs to come with me. Alone."

Noah looked at me, his eyes filled with desperation. "Mark…"

I reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay," I said, though my chest felt tight. "I'll figure this out, and then we'll see each other again. I promise."

Noah's lip trembled, but he nodded.

Once they left, Michael helped me into the wheelchair. When we got to the parked car outside, someone was sitting in the passenger seat. He looked a bit older than me.

"Hey, name's Calvin. Michael's my dad. He may seem like a grump, but he's pretty cool all things considered."

Michael just gave him a look. "All things considered?"

"Yup," Calvin replied, giving him a dazzling smile.

Michael mumbled something before speaking up. "Markus is an incoming sophomore like you, so look after him in school. You've got a while before you have to worry about that."

"I always wanted a little brother," Calvin added.

I gave him an unsure look. "We're the same age, right?"

"Probably, but you're definitely smaller than me—thus, little brother," he said with so much confidence I didn't feel like arguing. At least, not yet. Eventually, I would.

"Besides, we can't be brothers. I have no familial connections with you."

"That's where you're wrong," Calvin said with a grin. "Legally speaking, our dad adopted you."

My world froze. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at Calvin, the air suddenly feeling too thick to breathe.

"Adopted?" I managed to choke out, turning to Michael. "What does he mean by adopted?"

Michael let out a deep sigh, his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly as he glanced back at me. "Your parents agreed it was for the best. They signed over guardianship to me. It's the only way to ensure you're protected and that they're safe."

Safe. That word echoed in my head, twisting like a knife.

"They just gave me up?" My voice cracked, and I hated how small it sounded.

"It wasn't like that," Michael said, though his tone lacked any real comfort. "They love you, Markus. They just… didn't know how to handle what's happened to you. They trusted me to take care of you."

I turned to the window, my hands trembling as I clenched them into fists. My parents—my own parents—had signed me away like I was some kind of burden.

"I didn't even get a say," I muttered bitterly, more to myself than anyone else.

"You were barely lucid," Michael pointed out, his voice firm. "There wasn't time to debate. You're a werewolf now, Markus. That changes everything."

"Yeah, no kidding," I snapped, the anger bubbling up before I could stop it. "It changes everything for me, apparently. But not for them, right? They get to go back to their normal lives while I'm stuck being… this."

The car fell silent for a moment. Even Calvin, who had been so cheery a second ago, seemed unsure of what to say.

"Markus," Michael started, but I cut him off.

"Just don't, okay?" I said, my voice raw. "I don't need a pep talk or some bullshit alpha wisdom right now."

Michael's jaw tightened, but he didn't press the issue.

I sank back into the seat, my mind racing. The thought of my parents signing me away without a fight stung worse than anything I'd felt in the woods that night. They were supposed to protect me, to stand by me no matter what. Instead, they'd handed me over to strangers.

"Hey," Calvin said softly, breaking the tense silence. "I know this sucks. Believe me, I'd be pissed too if I were you. But it's not all bad, okay? You've got us now."

I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. "I don't want you. I want my family."

Calvin flinched, and for a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. But it was quickly drowned out by the bitterness coursing through me.

Michael spoke up again, his tone gentler this time. "You're not alone, Markus. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but the pack is your family too. We look out for each other. Always."

I didn't respond. I wasn't ready to accept that yet.

As the car pulled onto a gravel road leading into the woods, I stared out the window. The trees grew denser, the light filtering through the canopy growing dimmer. The weight of everything crushed down on me: my parents were gone, my life as I knew it was over, and I was being thrown into a world I didn't understand.

Deep down, anger simmered. I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to run, to scream, to fight but I'm just to weak to fight.