The sky was black, heavy. Damien leaned on the window, watching streetlights smear past. Yellow streaks. Tired gold. Five in the morning. The whole town out cold. Not him. Sleep hadn’t touched him in weeks.He sat slouched in the passenger seat, fingers locked on the door handle like he might jump out if it came to it. Back home, his little sister would be out like a rock, wrapped in her blanket. Safe. Mom would’ve lost her mind if she knew he’d slipped out—but Mom wasn’t there to stop him.His head was stuck on the same reel. His dad. The years kept dragging, and the man’s face was turning into smoke. Fading around the edges. That scared him worse than anything.What burned harder was the lie. Animal attack, they’d said. Everybody bought it. But he’d seen. The body. The hands. The way the bones broke—no wolf on earth did that. Sure, there were paw prints. But paw prints weren’t proof. He’d tried to say something once, just once. Then he saw his mom’s eyes, and the words died in his t

The old BMW’s engine ticked as it cooled in the silent driveway, a sound that seemed to measure the heavy silence inside the car.“Remember,” Jeremy said, his voice low and strained, stripped of its usual easy-going charm. “Not a word to anyone. Not even your mom.”Damian gave a numb nod, the weight of the secret—of the bloody glyph, of Jeremy’s fear—pressing down on him like a physical force. “Yeah. I remember.”He slipped out of the car and watched Jeremy’s taillights disappear down the street, swallowed by the pre-dawn gloom. The house was dark. His mom was still at her shift in Bloodhaven. Cassie was asleep. He was alone with a truth that felt like a live wire in his brain, sparking and dangerous.DAMIENThe key turned in the lock with a click that echoed too loudly in the sleeping street. Damian slipped inside, leaning against the closed door as if he could physically shut out the memory of the woods. The familiar scent of home—lemon cleaner, old books, the faint hint of his moth

Damien looked through the window. The silhouette in the dark was gone. Those cold blue eyes so pale they looked like moonlight on frost, fierce but layered with a deep, aching loneliness had vanished.He breathed out, gasping for air. He only then realized his whole body was tensed, coiled like a bow stretched to the point of breaking. Just holding the gaze of those eyes had demanded every ounce of his mental strength.He collapsed onto his bed. "Jeremy, where the heck are you?" he muttered to the empty room.With a soft swoosh, a figure whizzed through the night, a blur of motion over the rooftops. Sound waves rippled in his wake. He launched himself onto a chimney top, perched for a heartbeat against the moon, then performed a silent somersault down to the ground below.He landed in a crouch. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a worn leather jacket and black boots. His hair was black and glossy, pulled back and tied neatly with a black ribbon.He was deep in thought, his mind reeling.

The key turned in the lock with a soft, precise click just after 5 AM. Damian started, his hand gripping the windowsill where he’d been staring into the empty, silent street for what felt like hours. The memory of those two points of silvery-blue light in the darkness was burned onto his retinas. The sound of his mother’s tired footsteps in the hallway was a profound relief, a tangible anchor to reality.He found her in the kitchen, filling the kettle at the sink. Lilith Graves looked like she carried the weight of her entire night shift in the slump of her shoulders, but she still managed a soft, weary smile for him. In the dim kitchen light, she could have passed for his older sister, the timeless quality she possessed more pronounced in her fatigue.“You’re up early,” she said, her voice a husky whisper.“Couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, sliding into a chair at the worn wooden table. The house was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the growing rumble of the kettle.She st

The walk back from The Falls was a brutal, silent affair. The roar of the water faded behind them, replaced by the deafening sound of a friendship cracking apart. Damian walked several paces ahead, his shoulders hunched against the world, against Jeremy. He could feel Jeremy’s gaze burning a hole between his shoulder blades, a mix of guilt and desperation, but he didn’t turn around.I’m still your best friend.The words echoed in the space between them, a plea that felt like a mockery. How could he be? The foundation of their entire relationship had been built on a lie, a secret as big as the sky. Every laugh, every shared confidence over the last two years was now cast in a sinister, new light.They reached the edge of town, the familiar houses feeling alien. Jeremy finally broke the silence, his voice hesitant. “Damian…”“Don’t,” Damian cut him off, not slowing his pace or looking back. The word was sharp, final. “Just… not right now. We stick to the plan. The homework story. That’s