**Change Begins With You — Jayden Collins**
**Chapter 37**
**Maya**
It was merely a nightmare, I kept reminding myself, uttering the words over and over again, as if repeating them could somehow transform the horror into mere figments of my imagination.
As I stirred awake, I found myself back in my familiar room, my gaze drawn to the glass-lined wall of the sunroom. The morning light filtered through the trees, casting a soft glow that seemed almost serene.
Everything around me appeared unchanged. The same furniture, the same colors, the same comforting chaos of my life.
Yet, deep within, I felt utterly different.
A shiver coursed through me as I abruptly sat up, the sudden movement igniting a sharp pain that throbbed behind my eyes, as if I had been struck. My throat felt raw and parched, a burning sensation clawing at me, prompting a harsh cough. I instinctively reached up to touch my neck, only to hiss in pain as my fingers grazed over skin that felt tender and bruised.
I froze in place, the reality of my situation settling over me like a heavy blanket.
With a slow, deliberate motion, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and turned toward the mirror that hung across the room. Dread slithered up my spine, a cold whisper of anxiety urging me to look away.
No. No, no, no.
This couldn’t be real.
Yet, as I gazed into the mirror, the reflection staring back was a stark reminder of the truth I desperately wished to deny. A faint purple bruise marred my skin where fingers had pressed too hard, and just beneath it, a thin red line marked the spot where a knife had sliced through, a cruel reminder of my ordeal.
My breath hitched in my throat, the realization crashing over me like a wave.
It was all real. Every horrifying detail—the wolves, the blood, Caden’s father, and the most terrifying of all… the transformation. None of it had been a mere dream.
A small, broken sound escaped my lips as I staggered back from the mirror, shaking my head as if I could physically dispel the truth by moving quickly enough.
“No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “No, that can’t be.”
But the ache in my body told a different story. The sting at my neck was a painful reminder, and deep within, a part of me clung to the memories of the unnatural horrors I had witnessed before darkness enveloped me.
The door opened softly, and in stepped Caden, followed closely by Tylon.
They appeared to have reconciled, or at least reached a temporary truce. Gone was the sharpness that usually characterized their interactions; instead, a palpable worry filled the space between us.
My eyes lingered on Caden, a wave of concern washing over me as I recalled the reason we had ventured to his home in the first place. He looked better than when he had descended the stairs, but the sluggishness in his movements and the slight limp spoke volumes about his lingering injuries.
A deep instinct urged me to reach out and help him, but a more powerful emotion held me back… Fear, followed closely by the sting of betrayal.
Caden’s hair was damp, as though he had just stepped out of the shower, and his expression was a mixture of exhaustion and heaviness. His shirt clung to his chest, and his curly hair was tousled, as if he had spent ages running his fingers through it in frustration.
His eyes—those piercing blue orbs—searched mine, conveying a silent plea, as if he was unsure of how to break the tension that hung thick in the air.
Tylon leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression inscrutable except for the tension etched around his jaw.
For a moment, silence enveloped us, and I could feel the weight of unspoken words pressing down on my shoulders.
I could no longer withstand the quiet. “Is it true?” I asked, my voice small yet trembling with urgency.
Tylon’s posture stiffened, while Caden moved toward me cautiously, his hands raised slightly as if approaching a fragile creature.
“Maya,” he said, his tone measured, “let me explain.”
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes before I even realized it.
“Explain what, Caden?” My voice cracked halfway through his name, the emotion overwhelming me. “Because none of this makes any sense!”
He halted a few feet from me, his expression earnest. “You saw things you weren’t supposed to see. Not yet.”


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Housebound with the Blackridge Heirs