Chapter 1
In the dead of night in New York， icy rain pelted against my motorcycle helmet with sharp clatters. My wet overalls clung tightly to my legs， causing shivers. My phone suddenly lit up—Chloe was on the line.
Her voice tore through the air like a cat strangled by a noose: fragmented and desperate.“Brother， there’s someone in my room. His eyes… they’re golden; it’s scary! Help me...“
The call abruptly ended. When I tried to dial back， all that greeted me was an automated message saying the number had been turned off.
My hands trembled uncontrollably as my motorcycle swayed dangerously close to a guardrail. Chloe was only seven. Since being labeled a“werewolf descendant，“ she had lived in an attic in California’s“Holy Sanctuary” town， her windows boarded up with iron bars. She had always been so obedient and sweet—she knew I was studying at university in New York， working as a delivery rider to earn tuition fees. She only ever called when necessary， sending me voice messages about“be careful riding，““eat well，“ or sharing crayon drawings of pigeons outside her window， saying， “Brother， the pigeons look like they’re smiling today.”
My breath hitched. Chloe’s attic was rarely entered by anyone except my mother, Olivia， who brought meals daily. The stuffed bear was something I had bought with money earned from washing dishes in a Chinese restaurant three years ago—the only toy she had. Who could have taken out its eyes and placed it under her bed? And why?
The fear gripped me as I raced back to Chloe’s attic.
“Brother， good morning! The sun is so nice today; I saw the pigeons resting on the iron bars. They look like they’re smiling at me.”
“Brother， my favorite bear is missing. Without it， I’m scared to sleep… I found it tonight! But how did it roll out from under the bed? And its eyes are gone—there’s a pungent smell， like… like Marcus brought last time with his wolf cub.“
A frigid chill ran up and down my spine. The voice messages revealed that something sinister was happening in Chloe’s attic.
The next message contained an unsettling photo.
“Brother， this is so strange! Why are there photos of me sleeping on my phone?”
Taken at night， the room was dimly lit by the phone’s screen. Chloe lay asleep with a faint smile on her face. But who would have taken those pictures when she was locked in? And why?
A chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, and I could almost picture the scene: a shadowy figure wearing a werewolf mask, slipping silently into the attic, staring down at the sleeping Chloe by the light of the moon.
They’d taken photos with her phone—maybe even lingered beside her for a long while, savoring that sickening sense of control.
Rage boiled in my chest like molten lava, scorching every inch of my body.
Chloe was just an innocent child. Because her father had died under mysterious circumstances when she was born, the townsfolk had branded her a “werewolf’s spawn,” locking her away in that attic, hidden from the sun.
And now she had to endure this kind of terror. Who could be so cruel as to target a seven-year-old girl?
I flagged down a taxi by the side of the road right away. The driver was a middle-aged Latino man.
When he heard I was heading to a small town in central California—a journey that would take over four hours—his face fell immediately.
He waved his hands repeatedly, shaking his head. “No, no way. That’s such a long trip, and with this heavy rain right now, it’s way too dangerous.”
I was so desperate that I felt tears welling up. I pulled all my earnings from this month—a crumpled stack of cash—out of my pocket and thrust the whole lot into his hands.
“Please, sir, my little sister is in danger. She’s the most important person in my life, and I can’t lose her. If this money isn’t enough, I can write you an IOU, or I’ll work as a delivery rider for you for a whole month for free. Just take me there now.”
The driver sighed but nodded. We sped off into the night， rain blurring the windows.
I clutched a red rope around my wrist—the only toy Chloe had ever asked for， hand-knitted by her three-year-old self， adorned with a silver bead that I hoped could protect her from the wolves.
“Kid,” the driver suddenly spoke up, “if this is really an emergency, why don’t you call the police?”
I fell silent. Call the police? In that insular town, most of the cops were local residents—either superstitious of Marcus’s supposed identity as a medium, or bribed by my mother and him.
By the time they showed up, the intruder who’d snuck into the attic would’ve long fled. And Chloe? She’d only end up subjected to even harsher confinement for “disturbing the town’s peace.” Or even… I couldn’t bear to think further.
Seven years ago, they’d nearly burned the newborn Chloe alive. If I hadn’t risked my life to stop them, and if Marcus hadn’t suddenly appeared to “mediate,” Chloe would’ve been gone forever.
I could only pray the car would go faster—fast enough for me to reach Chloe before tragedy struck.
The car cut through the curtain of rain for over four hours. Just as the sky began to pale with the first light of dawn, we finally arrived at that small town that filled me with both dread and longing.
It was no different from how I’d left it three years prior: low-rise houses clustered in haphazard order, few pedestrians on the streets, and the air thick with the scent of damp earth, plus a faint, lingering tang—a smell that wafted constantly from the Sanctuary of the Sacred.
Marcus claimed it was the “holy aura,” but I’d always thought it was the rank, gamey stench of wolf cubs mixed with the acrid odor of potions.
“ That’s where The Sacred Shelter is,” the driver said, pointing to an iron gate not far away.
Following his finger， I saw a tall black iron door standing guard by the roadside. The five golden characters on its plaque—The Sacred Shelter—glowed sharply in the rising sun’s light. Behind it was an open courtyard with several withered trees whose bare branches looked like twisted fingers pointing toward the sky. At the far end of the courtyard stood a five-story white villa， where Chloe had been imprisoned, and I had once called home.
Grateful to the driver， I pushed open the door， nearly stumbling as I rushed through the rain-slicked ground. The iron door creaked loudly in the stillness of the morning， its grating sound stark against the silence.
As I passed through the courtyard， I saw several guards wearing black uniforms and wolf masks patrolling. Their eyes were like icy daggers， piercing me with suspicion as they swept past. Lowering my head and quickening my pace， I tried to avoid being recognized—three years ago， I had been a gaunt high school student; now， taller and bearded， I should blend in.
Just as I reached the villa’s door， an old， raspy voice echoed in my ear: “Remember， no matter who calls you， don’t look back.“
My body stiffened. Halting mid-action， I realized this voice was different from the guards’. Instinctively turning to look behind me， but the warning lingered in its tone， compelling me to stop.
“Brother...“
From the shadows of the courtyard came a soft， aggrieved whisper—Chloe’s!
My heart clenched with dread. Ignoring the warning， I spun around. A thin layer of mist covered the yard; the sun’s rays filtered through， casting an ethereal glow. Chloe stood beneath one of the withered trees， wearing a delicate pink puffy dress that was stained with dirt. Her familiar twin braids hung loose on her face， and she held a stuffed bear whose eyes were gouged out， its gaze fixed on me.
But it was late autumn in California; the early morning chill would surely freeze Chloe if she stayed dressed so lightly. Moreover， she had been locked away upstairs; how could she be down here?
“Chloe!“ I couldn’t hold back as I called her name， stripping off my jacket to drape over her.
Just then， the front door of the villa slammed shut! I rushed to unlock it, but found the door jammed. No matter how hard I pulled， it wouldn’t budge.
Desperate， I leaned against the glass and peered out. Chloe remained motionless where she stood， her black eyes fixed on me with fear and helplessness. The curtains inside were drawn， making the interior dim， almost indiscernible. From my bag， I fumbled for a key—this was the spare I had hidden three years ago when leaving; now， it turned out to be useful.
At that moment， a cold breeze ran down my neck like someone whispering in my ear. My body froze， and my heart pounded as if it might leap from my chest.
“Remember， no matter who calls you， don’t look back.“ The raspy voice echoed again， this time pressed against my ear， sending shivers through me.
My hair stood on end， and I felt like lead had been poured into my limbs. Frozen in place， I could barely breathe as the memory of Chloe appearing behind me three years ago flashed before my eyes. And now， this icy wind seemed real， making me believe someone was indeed lurking behind me.
“Brother... save me...“
Chloe’s pleading voice came from somewhere behind me， heavy with tears. It was close—too close to be mistaken for the courtyard. This was too strange.
“Brother， I’m scared; they want to take me...“ Chloe’s voice grew closer， thick with fear and a chilling undertone that didn’t belong to her.
Unable to bear it any longer， I turned around， ignoring everything else.
The scene in front of me made me suddenly take a cold breath， and my blood seemed to freeze all over my body at that moment.
In the originally pitch-black mansion， an eerie red light suddenly illuminated every corner of the room from all directions. At the center of the grand hall stood Chloe， her figure surrounded by a pile of dry firewood. In her arms was a small bear， now drenched in dark red liquid that looked suspiciously like blood.
What struck me most was the sight of blood oozing from Chloe’s eyes， tracing down her cheeks, and staining her puffy pink skirt with vivid red stains. She stared at me emotionlessly， but a slight upward curl at the corners of her lips revealed an unsettling smile : “Brother， come play with me...“
Flames burst forth beneath the dry firewood， a flickering orange glow that quickly reached Chloe’s skirt. I could feel the heat of the flames as if they were right on my face.
“Chloe!“ I bellowed， ignoring all caution and wrapping an arm in my coat to rush towards her. But something strange happened when I dived into the fire; instead of searing pain， a bone-chilling coldness enveloped me， causing me to shiver uncontrollably.
I stretched out my arms， ready to embrace Chloe， but before I could reach her， a sudden yank at the back of my collar pulled me backward. A tremendous force dragged me away and slammed me onto the floor， the pain so intense that darkness momentarily blurred my vision. Old wounds on my back throbbed painfully.
Then， just as I landed， both the fire and Chloe vanished in an instant， along with that eerie red light. The mansion plunged into darkness once more， only a faint morning glow from outside illuminating a small area.
I stared wide-eyed in disbelief， trying to push myself up but finding my surroundings suddenly bathed in glaring white light， blinding me. I instinctively put my hand over my eyes as a shocked female voice echoed: “Ethan? Why are you back? Go! You need to leave!“
That voice... it was Olivia!
Ignoring the pain， I slowly lowered my hand and adjusted to the light before finally making out who stood in front of me. Olivia wore her usual black nurse’s uniform with a grotesque scar slicing from her eye to jawline， distorting her otherwise refined features. Her eyes were filled with panic and an incomprehensible fear， fixated on me.
“Big sister...“ I rasped， struggling to pull myself up.
Olivia didn’t respond; instead， she shook her head violently， the panic in her eyes intensifying. Ignoring her， I looked at where the fire had been. There was no dry wood or flames; just a wooden table standing tall with thick iron rods impaled with sharp silver nails that gleamed ominously.
A cold sweat broke out on my back. Had it not been for someone pulling me away， I would have surely blinded myself with those silver nails! Who saved me? Was it the gruff voice from earlier， or was he just another pawn?
I turned around to see who had saved me, but found no one behind.
“Click-click-click...“
Then came high heels descending the stairs， their sound growing louder and more oppressive. Olivia’s face whitened as panic transformed into sheer terror; she instinctively huddled closer to me.
Turning towards the stairs， I watched as a woman in an oversized white lab coat descended. Despite her ample figure， the loose coat concealed her true form. Her makeup was flawless， her smile serene and kind， but I felt nothing but revulsion.
That woman was my mother， Victoria.
Following her were several wolf-masked nurses—those who had been in the yard earlier. Their black sticks gripped tightly as they shadowed my mother like loyal hounds.
The townsfolk said that since marrying Marcus， Mother’s “virtuous“ deeds transformed her into a gentle angel. Yet I knew she was selfish and cold-blooded. When Father lay ill， she constantly visited Marcus， ignoring his well-being; when Olivia got slashed by her， leaving scars， Mother slept soundly; and Chloe， my sister， was locked in the attic， suffering endlessly.
“Ethan?“ My mother’s smile faltered， then returned to its kind demeanor as she asked， “Why are you back? You’re supposed to be at college in New York?“
My expression grew cold.“I’m here for Chloe. Where is she?“
Before I could finish， my mother visibly trembled, and tears welled up， making her look pitiful: “Son... why bring up Mom’s painful memories?“
Folding my arms， I stared at her without a word， knowing the act of putting on an act was about to begin.
She sniffed， real tears rolling down her cheeks onto her white coat.“Don’t you remember? Chloe is a ‘werewolf descendant.’ She hurt someone when she lost control and was burned alive in town. It’s all my fault; I couldn’t protect her...“
My heart sank. She was lying again. Chloe had called me， sent voice messages， and photos—how could she have died?
“You’re lying，“ I said sternly， “I received a call from Chloe last night. She asked for help; she’s alive.“
My mother’s tears instantly stopped， her eyes flickering with malice before masking it with sorrow. A wolf-masked man stepped forward， wiping away her tears gently and soothingly: “Marcus says we tried our best. It was Chloe’s fate. Marcus has already helped her cross over to a good family; don’t blame yourself too much.“
That voice... I knew him—Noah， Marcus’ loyal nurse. Knowing Chloe was alive yet still lying， they must have conspired.
Noah turned towards me. His eyes held an unsettling anger: “Ethan， you’ve been sick for a long time. Your mother is too kind to tell you the truth. Chloe died; the calls and messages were just your imagination.“
I laughed， incredulous. My health was fine; I had good grades at college. How could I be sick?
Noah sighed dramatically， gesturing towards his fellow nurses: “Take him to Marcus. Maybe... there’s still hope.“
Several nurses dragged me away， their strength like iron clamps binding me immobile. Struggling fiercely， they soon pinned me down.
“Release me! You frauds! Chloe is alive; where did you hide her?“ I shouted， writhing， but the nurses ignored my cries and dragged me deeper into the hallway.
Mother stood still， watching as I was taken away. Her kind smile returned， but to me， it was more menacing than any mask.
As the nurses escorted me down the corridor， I replayed what Mother and Noah had said. They claimed Chloe was dead， that I was sick—outright lies. I knew for certain I hadn’t lost my memory or gone mad; Chloe must be alive， waiting for me to save her.
