Chapter 46: The Unwanted Mark

Chapter 46: Chapter 46: The Unwanted Mark

Shawn glanced toward the now empty benches and open locker doors, making sure no one was close enough to overhear them, then turned back to his friend, a slight frown etched between his brows. "Have you actually... tried calling her? Proper calls, not just texts?"

"Of course I have!" Jason exploded, the sudden volume making Shawn flinch. He gestured wildly with his previously injured hand now healed, secondary to his rage.

"Every damn day! And it just goes straight to voicemail, completely unreachable. Why do you think I’m standing here, about to punch a hole through solid steel, if not for that?"

Shawn hesitated, his gaze thoughtful. "Well, maybe... just maybe she blocked your number, man. That’s a possibility, you know. That’s why it’s going straight to voicemail."

Jason’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. "She wouldn’t. Not Iris. She gets angry, yes, she gets hurt, but she doesn’t do things like that. She talks things through." His voice trailed off, a hint of desperation seeping in.

Shawn’s brow furrowed, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Then try another phone, Jason. Just to rule it out. Use mine, if you want."

Jason looked at him, his intense gaze unwavering. "Why? What would that even prove?"

"Use someone else’s phone, dude," Shawn elaborated patiently, a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Call her from a different number, one she wouldn’t recognize. And see whether she answers. If she does, then it means she actually did block you. If not, then... well, then you have a different problem."

Jason shook his head slowly, a deep certainty etched into his features, even amidst his anger. "Iris wouldn’t block me. Yes, she’s furious with me, undeniably. But she wouldn’t deliberately cut me off from her life, not completely. She’s not like that."

"You sound very certain," Shawn observed, his tone carefully neutral.

"Because I know her," Jason insisted, his voice softening imperceptibly as he stared down at his knuckles, a strange mix of possessiveness and longing in his expression.

"She loves me, Shawn. She does. Just as much as I love her. She’s just... hurt right now."

A scoff, sharp and distinctly cynical, sliced through the tense quiet. It came from the bench behind them, where Finn Callahan, who had been meticulously removing his basketball shoes, finally looked up, a sardonic twist to his lips.

"You have got to be kidding me," Finn drawled, his voice laced with disbelief.

Jason spun around, his eyes flashing. "What did you say, Finn?"

Finn leaned back against the locker, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze cool and unwavering.

"Love? You keep talking about love so casually, Jason. You of all people, as if it’s something simple, something humans just casually decide on, like choosing what to eat for dinner. Like it has no bearing on... anything else."

Jason’s frown deepened, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "What exactly are you getting at, Callahan?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I’m getting at, Montgomery," Finn retorted, a dry amusement in his tone, though his eyes remained serious. He tossed one of his shoes with surprising accuracy into his open locker, the thud echoing.

"For our kind, love isn’t supposed to work like that. It’s not exactly a fairytale, is it? We have... responsibilities. Bonds, whether we like them or not. You don’t simply spend three years with a human and decide that automatically means she’s ’the one.’ She isn’t, and you know it deep down."

Jason’s expression darkened considerably, his jaw clenching so hard that the muscle jumped again. "Regardless of what you think, or what ’our kind’ is supposedly ’supposed’ to do, the semester has already started, and I will find Iris one way or another. Mark my words."

Shawn, who had been watching the exchange with a growing sense of unease, folded his arms, his posture defensive. "And when you do find her, Jason? What then? What exactly do you expect to happen?"

Jason stared at him, his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, ’what then’?"

Shawn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was there, Jason. I heard what she said that morning . She didn’t sound like she was joking when she said she was breaking up with you. She sounded... finished."

Jason’s jaw clenched even harder, and his eyes hardened, a dangerous glint entering them. "She doesn’t get to end it." His voice was low, laced with a terrifying possessiveness that made Shawn’s expression tighten, a quiet alarm flashing in his eyes.

"She belongs with me," Jason continued, his voice rising slightly, carrying a predatory edge. "I’m not letting her walk away from me as if three years, everything we built, meant absolutely nothing. You know I was planning on staying with her regardless, even if – when – I do find my true mate. I love Iris, damn it. I’ve never been crazy about anyone like I am about her."

Finn, who had been observing him with a fixed, unreadable gaze, finally spoke, his voice quiet but sharp. "Then why, Jason, did you cheat on her?"

The question hung heavily in the now almost completely empty locker room, a stark, unwelcome echo.

Jason’s eyes flashed, a visceral anger instantly replacing the desperate possessiveness. "Don’t make me angry, Finn."

"No, I’m serious right now," Finn retorted, pushing himself off the locker, his posture straightening, an unexpected intensity in his stance.

"If you’re so obsessed with her, if you’re so determined to ’keep her,’ then explain why you slept with her best friend? Because that, my friend, is precisely where you fucked up, spectacularly."

Jason dragged a hand through his blonde hair, the gesture one of profound frustration, almost pain.

"You know why," he muttered, his breathing growing heavier, ragged. "What the hell was I supposed to do?" His voice, though lowered, still carried through the space, laden with a desperate plea for understanding. "You know what it’s like for us. You both do."

What the hell was I supposed to do, Finn? You know how it is. We’re werewolves for crying out loud! You know the urges, the... the heat that comes with the turn."

Shawn’s expression hardened then, a familiar, weary understanding settling over his features.

Jason looked between them, his gaze imploring. "Ever since we turned, things have been different. Dramatically so. You both know that. The urges... the changes..."

He lowered his voice further, leaning in slightly, as if confiding a secret, though the words were clear. "The sexual urges are stronger, exponentially so. We’re... horny all the damn time. Everything is stronger, isn’t it? Hunger, anger, attraction... all of it. Amplified to hell."

Finn’s expression remained skeptical, though a flicker of recognition crossed his features. "That’s precisely why we don’t do girlfriends, Jason. Because we know, deep down, that we can’t commit in the human sense due to our nature. We just... we find release. We only fuck. That’s it."

"Yes, I thought so too," Jason admitted, his voice unexpectedly raw, almost vulnerable. "I was like that before. And then I met Iris." His voice softened despite himself, a genuine, aching tenderness entering it. "I fell for her. I genuinely did. She wasn’t just a conquest, she was... everything."

He looked down at his shoes, his posture suddenly deflated. "But she wouldn’t let me touch her. Not in the way I needed to. I waited. I tried to respect her decision, truly. But every time I got close to her, every time the craving built, she pulled away. And eventually..." He exhaled sharply, a sound of profound frustration. "...I lost control. I couldn’t help it."

Finn shook his head slowly, his eyes direct and unwavering. "You didn’t lose control, Jason. You made a choice. A poor one, undoubtedly, but a choice nonetheless."

"You don’t get to judge me on this," Jason snarled, his anger flaring again. "You weren’t there, you don’t understand the intensity of it."

"I don’t have to be ’there’ to know the emotions we go through," Finn countered, his voice surprisingly calm. "We’ve all been through it, Jason. We all feel it."

Jason glared at him, his patience worn thin. "You know how difficult it is for our kind to go without intimacy, especially when the changes are still settling."

"I know," Finn agreed, a subtle shift in his expression, a glimmer of empathy.

"And you know what happens when the urges become overwhelming," Jason pressed, desperation creeping back into his tone, "when we’re in the heat period, the intense, almost primal need to rut, to find release."

"I know that too," Finn conceded, his voice softening slightly, a quiet understanding now present. "But knowing doesn’t excuse what you did. Dude, you could have had any girl you wanted in this entire university. You’re the Falcons captain, you’re popular, you’re handsome. Girls trip themselves over you to get your attention. But why... why her friend, Jason? That’s the part I still don’t comprehend."

Jason turned away abruptly, his shoulders slumping, a silent admission of guilt, perhaps, or simply a lack of an adequate answer.

Shawn watched him for a moment, a deep, troubled frown on his face, before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a bewildered sadness.

"I still don’t understand, Jason... why you marked her."