The whole family carries the gene for lycanthropy.
Well. There it was. As plain as it could be made. It wasn't the aliens. It was ... genetics. In his timeline, he was apparently as locked down as Simon had claimed Niks was. In Aaron's, it was the ones who didn't turn who were rare.
Evan felt ... relieved, if that was the right word for it.
"I could see you as a shaman." Evan nodded. "You would be good for that role. Especially for a pack."
He did know a little bit about werewolves, though he'd never had to deal with any himself. The Tower had all sorts.
"Alright. Well. I suppose that's settled. We have sorted out the weird fucking differences in our lives, and I now know that aliens did not fuck with my dna. What now."