" She palpated the edges of the wound. “So, I’m like you…werewolf—no, lycan? Am I some sort of science experiment?”
He became utterly still, giving her a chance to see he wasn’t lying when he said this. “You’re not human. You have to remember this. I don’t know how one of us could ever believe otherwise, even if we lost our memory. Maybe if someone hypnotized you into believing yourself human, I could buy you not remembering. Knowing what you are is as basic as knowing how to walk. We are lycanthropes. Lycans.”
No one said anything for several long moments of silence. Even Flynn seemed to have stopped breathing from wherever he stood behind them. Flynn was probably looking at her again. Why did that make him want to punch his brother, whom he trusted with his life?
Skepticism laced her tone. “Can I change into a dog or something?”
“No. That’s a human urban myth. We do change to become stronger when necessary, like I did in the hangar. In our feral form, we can do many superhuman things, but it’s not an ugly creature covered in hair like in the movies. You almost did the shift at the club. It’s why I distracted you both times. You can’t do that in public.”
“You’re lycan, too, Flynn?” she asked. “Does that mean you both got bitten at the same time?”
“What?” Flynn shot a shocked glance at Roman. “Bitten? What the actual hell?”
“Chill. She’s got no clue,” Roman said in a calm tone.
“Of course I’m lycan.” At her skeptical eyebrow raise, Flynn groaned theatrically and rolled his eyes. “It’s genetic, not something like in the movies where a bite will turn you. I was born this way. My parents were 100 percent lycan, as were theirs. And yours. It’s a different species than humans.”
She asked, “Why do I believe so strongly I’m a person, that I’m human?”
Roman shrugged
“Superspeed healing?” She touched her side.
“The older we get, the more rapidly we heal. That speed means you must be at least fifty, maybe older.”
“How old are you?”
“A lot older.”
“You think I’m fifty? I look maybe early twenties.” She nibbled her lower lip. “How long do you…we live?”
Roman shrugged. “Centuries. I don’t know any that died of natural causes.”
“What about that spooky guy named Antonio? Is he like us?”
Both Roman and Flynn exchanged glances.
“You didn’t know what he was?” Flynn asked.
Roman said, “He’s a vampire, not exactly a friend of our species.” They had yet to pin down if Antonio was involved with the dealer who peddled black magic artifacts like the vial. But every time they found something deadly like it, he lurked about.
“Maybe that’s why I didn’t like him. Probably good I didn’t act on one of the five ways I envisioned he could die.”
He was staring at her.
“Yeah, probably smart,” he muttered. "

― Zoe Forward , Bad Moon Rising (Crown's Wolves, #1)