MasukWhat do you make of Hayley's dreams?
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
AXELThe sins of your blood are upon you.A locker door slams shut nearby. High above, a banner for an upcoming event sways from the ceilings. Laughter drifts down the hall. Two security staff barrel past me, chasing a boy on a skateboard. The world tilts lazily, my senses barely registering any of it. You can't hide from me. A girl bumps into me—or I bump into her—jolting my thoughts in place. “Watch where you're going!” she snaps, rubbing her shoulder. “Sorry. I'm really sorry—” But the girl is halfway down the hall already, clearly not interested in whatever apology I'm mustering. Of course. As it's been for the past two days, everything around me is a blurry, chaotic mess. Mentally, I feel trapped in the chilling events from the night of the game, and the feeling is only made worse by the haunting words of the shadowy lycan. Hard as I try to shake it off, Dreadborn's warning gnaws at the back of my mind like a restless vermin, threatening to consume me whole. Shane and his
NARRATIVE POVSheriff McKenna knew something was wrong when the station's landline rang repeatedly that night. Greystone rarely ever saw the kind of trouble that warranted multiple calls. At least not until recently. Not until the murder in the woods a month ago. Now, every shrill of their landline felt like an insidious warning of what was to come. And tonight, the one thing the Sheriff feared had showed up again. A dead body. “Jesus Christ.” Deputy Morales walked up to Sheriff McKenna, wincing at the sight before them. Never one for a sore sight, Morales quickly tore his gaze away. “He’s just a kid, goddamnit,” the man hissed. Sheriff McKenna took off his hat, staring at the lifeless body of the boy wearing a bloodied football jersey. It wasn't his first grim sight—three years in active duty as the Sheriff of Greystone had given him a good measure of those. But it was the unnerving similarities between this body, and the one found a month ago that sent a tremor through his veins
AXELPanic claws at my chest like a deathtrap. The jubilation from the win feels sucked out of the air as the scent of Dreadborn lingers. “Ax, are you okay?” The unmistakable look of hurt is etched in Hayley's face when she quizzes me. We've just had a breathless, perfect moment—only for me to pull away like some jerk. “It's just… it's nothing.” God, how much can I let her in on? The sting in her eyes burrows, and I'm dead certain she can tell I'm lying. “Is it me?” I'm too tongue-tied to form a response, and I watch Hayley’s lips pinch together. “Maybe we shouldn't have done this. I don't know why every time we—”“Hayley, stop.” I lock my fingers through hers. “It's not you. I promise.” “Then what is it, Ax?” Her eyes carry a mix of concern and curiosity. “One minute we're making out—the next you're spooked. And you say it's not about me?” “Alright, look. I know this might sound crazy, but—” “You can feel it, green eyes, can't you?” Shane appears from behind, cutting me off. “I
AXELA gust of breeze sweeps across the field. It feels like the temperature has gone a notch down since Shane and I acknowledged the tense situation we're in:There's a werewolf on the opposing team. “You think we can take him?” Shane shakes his head wryly. “I don't know, Ax. He's tough and fast—way too fast.” He heaves a breath. “Old magic is strong in him.”We both turn our gaze to where the Oakville Warriors are walking out of the tunnel, huddled together. Brett steps out last, casually chewing a gum, like he's not fazed in the slightest by anything. I drag a hand through my hair. “We've gotta stop him and the rest of their team.” “We can't risk exposing ourselves.” “Golden hair over there doesn't seem to be worried about that,” I point out. Shane grates his jaw. “I know. And it's fuckin worrying.” The referee’s whistle shrills to kickstart the second half, and both teams start to head onto the field. I nod at Shane as he walks away, silently bidding him luck. Nerves roil
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







