The Exposure

The bathroom tiles were ice beneath Vance's knees. He barely reached the restroom before collapsing beside the sink, his chest rising and falling in frantic gasps. Every sound in the school crashed into him at once the dripping faucet, footsteps echoing in the hallway, distant laughter, even the steady rhythm of heartbeats beyond the walls. Every scent flooded his senses until he thought his skull would split open. Beneath his skin, the wolf prowled like a caged predator, growing more restless with every passing second. He'd excused himself mid-lecture, muttering something about feeling sick. Lyra had watched him go, concern written across her face. He'd seen it in the way her hand had reached for him, hesitated, then fallen back to her desk.

Now he was here. Alone. On the floor. Fighting for control.

Let me out.

The voice wasn't his. It came from somewhere deep inside his chest. Primal. Ancient. Hungry.

Run, Hunt, Feed, The cage is breaking.

"No." Vance pressed his palms against his temples. "Get out of my head."

You cannot bury what you have become. Every heartbeat weakens your chains.

His claws extended without warning, scraping against the porcelain tub. The sound was sharp. Echoing. He pulled his hand back, staring at the dark marks his fingers had left behind.

Your body remembers its true nature. Stop pretending you're prey.

"Lyra." The name escaped his lips like a prayer. "Think about Lyra."

Her face appeared in his mind. Her smile. The way she'd looked at him like he was just a normal boy. The warmth of her hand in his.

She fears monsters... and you are becoming one. When she sees your true face, she will run like all the others.

"I won't let that happen."

You don't have a choice.

Vance's body convulsed. His spine arched. His teeth elongated into fangs.

Stop fighting. Give me one night... one hunt... and I'll silence your pain forever. You'll feel so much better. No more pain. No more fear. Just power.

"NO!"

He slammed his fist against the floor. The tiles cracked beneath his blow.

And then, slowly, the wolf retreated.

Vance slumped against the wall, exhausted. His hands were shaking. His clothes were drenched in sweat. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were normal. Brown. Human.

But for just a moment, he saw something else. Something golden. Something hungry. Something that was becoming more real every single day.

Vance closed his eyes. I have to get out of here.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, nearly colliding with Jeff in the hallway.

"Dude." Jeff grabbed his arm, steadying him. "You look like death. What happened?"

"I lost control." Vance's voice was rough. "The wolf, it almost--"

"Okay. Okay." Jeff pulled him away from the bathroom door, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. "We need to get you somewhere safe. Now."

"I can't go to class. I can't face Lyra like this."

"Then we're going to the locker room." Jeff's voice was firm. "We'll stay there until you calm down."

They hurried down the hallway, Vance leaning heavily on Jeff for support. His legs felt weak. His mind was spinning.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this," Vance admitted. "Every day, it gets harder. The wolf gets stronger."

"You'll figure it out. You always do."

"Not this time." Vance's voice cracked. "I can feel it slipping away, Jeff. I'm losing control."

Jeff was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Then we'll find another way. There has to be someone who can help you."

"Who?"

"I don't know. But we'll find someone."

Neither of them noticed the figure watching from the shadows at the end of the hallway. Golden eyes flickered once then disappeared.

Eliana Hale stepped out of the guidance counselor's office and walked toward the bathroom. She'd seen Vance leave class earlier. She'd seen the strain on his face. The tightness in his jaw. The way he'd gripped the edge of his desk like he was holding onto something invisible. Something was wrong with that boy. She'd felt it for weeks. The way he moved. The way he reacted. The way he seemed to be listening to sounds no one else could hear. And the way her daughter looked at him like he was the only person in the world who mattered.

Eliana pushed open the bathroom door. The room was empty. But the air was heavy. Tense. Like something had happened here. She stepped inside, her heels clicking against the tiles. Her eyes swept the room. The sink. The mirrors. The stalls. Then she saw it.

The tub. Deep scratches marred the porcelain. Long. Sharp. Like claws had raked across the surface.

Eliana's breath caught. Claws. She reached out, touching one of the marks. It was fresh. Recent. The porcelain was still slightly warm, as if the scratches had been made just minutes ago. Her mind raced. The boy. The strain on his face. The way he'd been acting lately.

"No..." Eliana whispered, staring at the grooves. "That's impossible." She looked toward the doorway where Vance had disappeared only minutes earlier. "Unless..." The unfinished thought sent a chill crawling down her spine.

She pulled out her phone and took a picture of the scratches. Then another before She walking out of the bathroom, her heart pounding. Something was happening in Elchen Hills. Something dangerous. And she was going to find out what.

-----

It was Sports Night, The gymnasium was packed. Parents filled the bleachers. Students crowded the sidelines. The lacrosse team was putting on a demonstration fast-paced drills, trick shots, competitive scrimmages. Vance stepped onto the court, his heart pounding. He could feel eyes on him from every direction. Students. Teachers. Parents. And Eliana. She was in the bleachers, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk. He could feel her gaze boring into him, watching his every move.

Don't draw attention. Don't do anything unusual. Just play like a normal human.

The first few minutes went smoothly. He passed the ball. He ran drills. He stayed in control. Then Derek started.

The first elbow came during a drill. Hard. Direct. Vance stumbled but kept going, ignoring the sting in his ribs. The second came during a scrimmage. Derek tripped him as he ran past. Vance hit the floor hard, the crowd gasping. His palms scraped against the court.

"Sorry, Rourke," Derek said, grinning down at him. "Didn't see you there."

Vance forced himself to stand. Forced himself to stay calm. "Watch where you're going," he muttered.

The third came during a break. Derek bumped into him, shoving him against the wall. "You're in my way."

"Back off, Derek."

"What are you going to do about it?" Derek laughed. "Cry to your dead mom?"

Vance's jaw tightened. "Don't."

"Don't what? Talk about the woman who couldn't stand to look at you?"

"Shut your mouth."

"Or what, Rourke?" Derek leaned in close, his voice low and cruel. "Everyone knows she died, right? You think anyone here misses her? She was a nobody. Just like you."

Vance's hands balled into fists. His vision flickered.

Let me out.

"No."

Let me out.

"NO."

Derek shoved him again. "I heard she killed herself. Couldn't stand having a son like you."

Vance lunged.

Agony ripped through his body. His spine arched until he thought it would snap, muscles tightening beneath his skin as dark veins spread across his arms. His fingernails lengthened into razor-sharp claws underneath the lacrosse glove, and his canine teeth pushed painfully against his lips under the face helmet. For one horrifying moment, he no longer felt human.

He was on Derek in an instant, fists raised, eyes blazing gold. The crowd screamed the way he was able to shove the 70 pounds Derek off his feet. The wolf was so close--so close to taking over

Break him. Make him bleed. Show them what you are.

"VANCE!"

Jeff's voice cut through the haze. He grabbed Vance's arm, pulling him back. "Dude. Dude. Not here. Not now."

Vance blinked. The rage faded. The wolf retreated.

But it was too late.

Eliana had seen everything.

From her seat in the bleachers, she'd watched it all. The way Vance's body had tensed. The way his eyes had flashed golden, inhuman, burning with something ancient and terrible.

Eliana's pulse pounded in her ears. Derek outweighed Vance by nearly thirty pounds, yet Vance had lifted him as if he weighed nothing. No seventeen-year-old should have moved that fast... or possessed that kind of strength.

Something was terribly wrong.

She gripped the railing, her knuckles white. Her mind was racing. The scratches in the bathroom. The impossible reflexes. The way he'd looked at Derek like he was the going to rip his throats. Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone.

---

"I need to get him out of here," Jeff hissed, dragging Vance off the court.He pulled Vance's hand over his head and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. When a pair of curious students slowed to stare, Jeff forced a nervous laugh. "He's having a panic attack," he said casually. "The nurse sent me to get him." The students nodded awkwardly and kept walking. "

"I couldn't control it." Vance's whispered. "The wolf—"

"I know." Jeff pulled him toward the locker room. "Just keep moving. Don't look back."

But as they rounded the corner, Vance froze.

The hallway lights flickered once. At the far end of the corridor stood a tall silhouette, perfectly still. Two golden eyes glowed in the darkness, never blinking. A group of students walked between them, and when they passed, the figure had vanished without a trace.

"Did you see that?" Vance whispered.

Jeff looked. "See what?"

"Nothing." Vance shook his head. "I'm losing my mind."

But he knew what he'd seen. And the wolf inside him stirred in recognition.

---

That night, Eliana sat in her office, staring at the photo on her phone. The scratches in the bathroom. Vance's impossible reflexes. The flash of gold in his eyes. She pulled up Marcus's file on the forest attack. The boy who'd been bitten. The boy who shouldn't have survived. What if it's the same boy? Her heart pounded. She reached for her phone, her hands trembling.

"Marcus," she said when he answered. "We need to talk. It's about Vance Rourke."

"What about him?"

"I think he's the boy from the woods. The one who was bitten."

A long pause. "Are you sure?"

"No. But I saw something tonight. His eyes—" She paused, her throat tight. "They were glowing, Marcus. Gold. Like an animal's."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm certain. And I found scratches in the bathroom. Claw marks. Deep ones."

Another pause. Marcus's voice was low, dangerous. "Don't confront him, Eliana. I'll confirm it first. If he's turned... then we'll have to do the needful"

"Marcus"

"Do not engage him. Not until we know for sure."

Eliana stared at the photo on her phone. "I understand," she said quietly. "But hurry. Lyra is already falling for him."

"Keep her away from him. Whatever it takes."

The line went dead.

---

Vance walked back to his apartment alone. Jeff had argued with him, insisting he shouldn't be all alone by himself, but Vance needed space. His thoughts were a tangled mess. Eliana had seen too much. Someone had been watching him in the hallway. And the wolf inside him felt stronger than ever.

He dropped onto the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. The silence didn't last long.

His phone buzzed.

Lyra: Are you okay?

Vance stared at the message before typing.

Vance: I'm fine.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Lyra: Don't lie to me. You acted strange out there on the field tonight.

He closed his eyes.

Vance: I'm sorry, the guy pissed me off....l couldn't help it; He lied.

A few seconds passed, another message appeared.

Lyra: Can I come over? I'm worried about you being all alone without company.

For the first time that day, Vance smiled. She really cared and she wants to be there for him.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Before he could reply...his phone vibrated again.

Unknown Number

If Lyra comes tonight...She dies.

The smile vanished from Vance's face.

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.

Another vibration.

Midnight, Old Water Tower, Come alone.

Vance stared at the screen, his hands trembling.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

No reply came.

Outside, clouds drifted away from the moon, flooding his apartment with pale silver light. Somewhere beyond his window, a wolf howled a long, haunting cry that sent a chill down his spine.

The typing indicator appeared, then one final message arrived.

Damien Cross.