Destined {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Seventeen

PRESENT DAY

Minho toyed with his hands nervously; there was no reason to be nervous, he knew. He eyed Chan from the corner of his eye as he talked animatedly about something the brunet couldn't care enough about to register. He seemed like a good guy, but there was still something... a twinge, perhaps, that coiled around his stomach and wouldn't let go.

Chan still hadn't brought up anything about werewolves, and the other boy was getting restless. He didn't quite know where they were going, only that Chan was leading him somewhere. He shrugged, but before long they stopped in front of a well furnished house.

Minho quirked a brow at him and Chan mimicked his gesture. "Weren't you listening when I told you we were coming over to my house?" There was a teasing lilt to his voice, and Minho's cheeks dusted red. Chan chuckled and shook his head. "It's easier to be sure nobody's listening inside." It was a valid reason, so the brunet adhered.

The inside was also quite nice, he had to admit; it was obvious that the man was rich. "Would you like anything to drink?" To that, Minho shook his head. They sat down on opposite ends of the couch stationed in front of a large flat-screen television.

"So..." Minho trailed off, fidgeting with his fingers. It was odd, to have Chan's full, undivided attention on him. He wasn't sure if he liked it.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know, if I know it myself," he said with a crooked, boyish grin. Minho nodded, steeling himself for the answers he might get. His heart thundered in his chest, and his mouth suddenly dried.

"What... what are they, really?" His voice was small and quiet, and Chan flashed a sympathetic smile.

"I mean, they're werewolves. That's what they are, on literal terms." Distaste and hatred flashed in his eyes, and the brunet jumped slightly. "They're monsters. They take what you love, and they ruin it all." There was true, genuine pain in his voice, and a shiver travelled down the younger's spine; he didn't even have to ask to know he was speaking from experience.

He tried to picture Jisung in that light; and even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, it was hard to believe that the kind boy who made butterflies flutter in his stomach the way he did, was a monster. He knew he'd thought it himself, at first. He felt almost defensive, now. He did not like the way Chan spoke, and that scared him.

"They're wild beasts, really. They can't be trusted with anything. They'll tear into you quicker than you can even blink." He shook his head in disgust, and Minho bit down on his bottom lip. That's not true. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that growled at what the older man was saying.

Chan shook his head. "Sorry, I get a bit... riled up when I talk about them." He stood quickly and approached a wooden box in the corner of the room. It was beautiful and ornate, and had to be quite, quite old.

He pulled out a metal necklace, beautiful and antique, and handed it to him with a soft smile. "This has been in my family for generations. It will... protect you from any werewolves; it's pure silver. If they touch it, it'll burn them." He dropped it in the other's hand and curled his fingers around it.

"I want you to have it. Now that they have you in their sights... they won't let you out. Be careful." Minho nodded. He felt very uncomfortable, now, despite the fact that he'd accepted the gift. Just then, a miraculous text from Felix asking him what he wanted for supper came through.

He opened it, furrowed his brows in false concern, and typed a quick response. "Sorry, there's... there's an emergency with one of my friends." Yeah, that he's hungry and doesn't know what to eat. He almost snickered, but he kept his face worried and neutral. "I should go see if he's alright."