HIDDEN (FIGHT OR FLIGHT)

Chapter 8

BEAR'S P.O.V.

My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a rope around it and was pulling it tighter with every word Vincent spoke. I tried to sit still, but the room was spinning, suffocating me with memories I didn’t even know I had. The mention of “Daren” made my skin crawl. That name—it was familiar but distant, like a ghost from a life I’d forgotten.

I stared at Vincent, his lips still moving, but the sound of his voice felt muffled. The word “Sego” kept echoing in my mind. Sego. That’s what I am? That’s who I am? I wasn't human?

I tried to breathe, but it felt like my lungs wouldn’t work. Damon’s hand brushed against my arm, pulling me back for a second. His touch was warm, grounding. I blinked and forced my eyes to focus on him. He looked worried, his sky-blue eyes scanning my face like he was trying to read me, trying to see if I was still here with him.

But how could I be? The world I was just getting to know had just been ripped away from me.

Vincent says I’m a Sego. He says I have a sister. Becky. I don’t even know what she looks like. I don’t know her face. I can’t remember.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken fears. Vincent’s voice broke through again, the words landing hard. “We’ve been searching tirelessly for him since that day. Hoping we’d find him alive. When I saw him here, I couldn’t believe it.”

I’m Daren. The realization hit me hard, making my stomach lurch. That’s my name.

I gritted my teeth, trying to stay calm, but the pressure building inside me was too much. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. I should’ve been angry—angry at Vincent, angry at the Cygans, angry at myself, angry at the world. But all I felt was an overwhelming sense of loss.

I turned to Damon, my eyes locked with his. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, just stared at me like he was waiting for something. I wanted to say something—anything—to break the tension, to let him know I wasn’t falling apart, even though it felt like I was. But my mouth wouldn’t move, and my mind was spinning too fast to catch a single thought.

“I’m sorry, Daren.” Vincent’s voice was softer now, filled with a sorrow that made it hard to look at him. “I didn’t know something like this could happen, and even if I did, I wouldn't have wanted you to find out like this, but you deserve to know the truth.”

I deserve the truth? The truth is I’m not even sure who I am anymore.

I tried to stand, but my legs felt like lead. Damon moved closer, his hand steady on my arm. “You’re okay,” he said quietly, but the weight of his words did little to calm the storm brewing inside me.

“I don’t...I don’t know if I can do this,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. “I don’t remember anything. How am I supposed to...”

“You don’t have to remember it all right now,” Damon interrupted, his voice steady, strong. “You don’t have to do anything right now except breathe.”

I let out a shaky breath, my eyes burning with the urge to scream, to tear everything apart just to feel something that wasn’t this emptiness. But Damon’s presence, the warmth of his hand on my arm, it anchored me.

I’m not alone.

For a moment, I just let myself feel that. Let myself believe it.

Vincent shifted in his chair, his expression unreadable. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he continued, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “But you’re not alone in this, Daren. We’re here. We’ll help you piece it together.”