LOGINHAYLEY Stupid. Stupid, Hayley. The music playing in the auditorium crescendos to an end as I step out into the hallways. I drag the back of my hand across my cheeks, furious with the tears, as I head for the bathroom. So much for Theo having no hold over you. Thankfully, every stall in the bathroom is empty when I arrive. Gripping a faucet with both hands, I stare at my reflection in the mirror before me, where my makeup is now muddied. Anger and hurt blooms in my chest as the words of Theo stir rage in my bones—and yet, I can't completely erase the thought that he might be right afterall. Axel truly has never confessed love to me. Not when we made out at my place. Or when we kissed right after the game. Nor when he asked me out to the Winter Formal. For all my disdain at being an “in-between”, I find myself tethering on the very edge of it. I've fallen hopelessly in love with Axel and I can't say for certain that he loves me too. God, I'm a mess. “Hayley?” Axel’s voice rings
HAYLEY “You've got to stop staring, Hayley.” Axel’s grip on my fingers tighten, like a subtle warning. “Don’t give him a reason to be suspicious.” “Right,” I murmur. “My bad.” But pulling my gaze away from Mr Hale does very little for the thudding in my chest. He's the murderous wolf. A week has passed since I made the discovery with Axel, and in that timeframe, Chem classes have felt like walking into a den. The thought of my teacher being a primal wolf responsible for the multiple murders in and around Greystone fills my every breath with trepidation. Axel runs a finger across my cheek softly. “I'm right here,” he coos. “Nothing's gonna happen tonight. I promise.” The words douse the panic in my chest, and a small smile breaks on my face. Principal Hawthorne emerges out onto the yard and holds out both arms, beaming. “Good evening, students. Let me take the moment to formally welcome you all to this year's Winter Formal.” Applause rings out from the crowd of students. “As is
HAYLEY “You're definitely getting laid tonight.” I roll my eyes before the vanity mirror, biting back the smile forming on my lips. “Seriously,” Corey continues from across the room where she's dabbing make-up on as well, “When was your last time? With Theo?” “Jesus.” Exhaling, I glance behind. “Sex police, can we give it a rest?” “Fine. But you've got to let Axel have it tonight.” “Have what?” Corey shoots me a look. “Your strawberry, of course.” “God. That is so gross.” Grinning, I shake my head in defeat.It's the night of the Winter Formal and Corey is her usual raunchy self. Dressed in a red gown with a slit that glides up her laps, she's tucked her curly hair into a ponytail, with only a few loose strands falling across her forehead. But the most noticeable thing about Corey's look tonight is the absence of her glasses. As I watch her add the finishing touches, I find myself wondering when I last saw her without them. “Deny it all you like, but I bet you'll be moaning
HAYLEY“Remind me why I’m volunteering for this again?” “Because I'm volunteering,” Corey says, lacing her fingers through mine as she stares ahead anxiously, like she's searching for someone. “And as my best friend, you’ve decided to come volunteer with me.” “More like you dragged me out here because Harold was volunteering.” “Goodness me.” Corey ducks a little as we stand in line, trying to shield her tall frame. “Can you not say his name out loud when he's only a few steps away from here?” “I'm pretty sure he's not the only one bearing Harold in this crowd—” “Oh, for God's sake, Hayley!” Corey whisper-yells. “Alright, my bad.” I chuckle. The queue of volunteering students for preparation of the Formal this year is the longest I've ever seen. Never one for it, Corey has not only taken a sudden interest in the activity this year, but she's also dragged me along—just so she can hang with Harold. Watching the both of them exchange cheeky glances had me grinning minutes ago, but
NARRATIVE POV A small breeze swept through the neighborhood as Sheriff McKenna stepped down from his vehicle. He took out the card from the brown wallet and read out the address again: 1388 Carrion Drive, Greystone, CA 09101 — Residence of Mr Gregory Hale.A burgundy cottage stood in front of the Sheriff, its lawn choked with overgrown patches. A rusty mailbox marked the entrance to the house, the open lid rattling softly in the soft wind.The rest of the neighborhood had similar houses, each separated by winter-struck trees with withering branches. Sheriff McKenna dropped the card back into the wallet and took a step towards the cottage. Stray leaves crunched under his feet as he pushed open the low fence, walked up to the house, and knocked on the door. But there was no response. After knocking a few more times, the Sheriff was almost certain the house was empty… until he heard loud grunts emanating from behind the house. Laborious, hard grunts. Like clockwork, his muscles har
HAYLEY If anyone else had walked in on me reading a book on Lycanthropy Folklore, I'd be drowning in questions about it by now. But it was Corey who found me by the library, so I knew I was safe. She probably didn't even know what the word lycanthropy meant. “Whatchu’ doing?” She asks through a mouthful. I stare at her, my gaze moving to the cookie in her hand. “You know eating in here is against the rules, right?” “The rule is to not be found eating here, Hayley,” she winks.I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile, as I bring my gaze back to the book in front of me. After an hour of reading, I've grasped nothing other than silver being harmful to werewolves, thanks to the noisy state of the library.The usually quiet study hall is a hub of hushed conversations today—conversations, no doubt about the most recent murder scare in the woods two nights ago. The school authorities have been very tight-lipped with what really happened on the night of the game. But that secrecy has only fue
NARRATIVE POV. Sheriff McKenna stood in front of the house listed on the card in his hand, checking the number to be sure he had the right place. 1388 Moonstone Drive, Greystone, CA 09101. He looked up at the burgundy cobblestone cottage, sitting alone in the middle of what felt like no man’s
NARRATIVE POV. Sheriff McKenna knew something was wrong the moment the police office landline rang more than once that night. Their small town rarely saw enough trouble to trigger multiple calls—at least not until recently. Not until the damned murder in the woods over a month ago. And now, h
AXEL. I swallow hard as a rush of panic burns through my veins. Dreadborn is here. And if Shane's words at the cliff meant anything, I'm the reason it’s been drawn here. Hayley stops her narration and arches a brow, noting the shift in my demeanor. “Ax, are you all right?” But I hardly he
AXEL I’d already suspected it, but hearing Shane confirm it in a hushed voice sends a shiver racing through me. There’s another werewolf on the field. And I know who it is. I glance at brown-haired Conor, huddled with the rest of the Ridgeclaw boys as their coach gives instructions, then I tur







