Kenneth hesitated at the entrance of the old ancestral home, its once-grand facade now worn by time. Vines crept up the stone walls, and the windows, though intact, were clouded with dust and history. It was eerie, yet something inside him urged him forward. He glanced at Frank, who gave him a reassuring nod before knocking on the heavy wooden door.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the door creaked open slightly, revealing a man with sharp, calculating eyes. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, his hair messy, his beard lightly unshaven. But it wasn't his appearance that unsettled Kenneth—it was the way his golden eyes seemed to *see* through him.
"You must be Kenneth," the man said, his voice low, knowing. "Come in. We have a lot to talk about."
Kenneth and Frank exchanged a quick glance before stepping inside. The air inside the house was thick with the scent of aged wood, herbs, and something else—something animalistic.
The man shut the door behind them and crossed his arms. "Name's Max Salonso," he said. "I'm guessing you have a lot of questions."
Kenneth didn't waste time. "What's happening to me?"
Max leaned against a wooden pillar. "You've been turned. You're a werewolf now."
The words hit Kenneth like a punch to the gut, even though he had already suspected as much. Hearing it confirmed made it real.
Kenneth clenched his fists. "Then it was *you* who did this to me."
Max narrowed his eyes. "No, kid. It wasn't me." He took a slow breath, then tilted his head slightly as if sniffing the air. His expression darkened. "An alpha did this to you. And not just any alpha—one I don't recognize."
Kenneth frowned. "What does that mean?"
Max exhaled. "It means someone new has arrived in Cavite. A powerful one. Alphas are the only ones who can create new werewolves. If you were turned recently, it means a new alpha is here, and I don't like that."
Kenneth felt his stomach twist. "Then what am I?"
Max studied him for a moment before answering. "You're a lone wolf. No pack, no protection, no guidance. And that, Kenneth, makes you a *target*."
Frank, who had been silent until now, took a step forward. "Wait—hold on. What do you mean, 'target'?" His voice was tight, and Kenneth could see his best friend struggling to process what they were hearing.
Max turned to him. "It means Kenneth is walking around with a massive bullseye on his back. Other werewolves will come for him. Some will try to recruit him into their packs. Others will see him as a threat and try to eliminate him before he gets stronger. And trust me, they *will* come."
Frank exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. So how do we stop that from happening?"
Max shook his head. "You don't stop it. You prepare for it."
Kenneth listened carefully as Max continued.
"There are packs—groups of werewolves bound by loyalty and instinct. Each pack is led by an alpha, the strongest among them. Alphas rule through dominance, and the bond they have with their pack is nearly unbreakable."
Kenneth processed the information, nodding slowly. "And lone wolves?"
"They're exactly what they sound like—wolves with no pack. No allegiance. No protection. Some choose to be alone. Others, like you, didn't have a choice. But in the werewolf world, a lone wolf is considered fair game. You're free to join a pack, but if you don't…" Max's expression darkened. "Well, let's just say, you won't be alone for long."
Kenneth took a shaky breath. The more he learned, the more dangerous this new reality became.
Frank swallowed hard. "This is insane."
Max leaned closer. "And that's not even your biggest problem."
Kenneth tensed. "What do you mean?"
Max's golden eyes hardened. "You're not just dealing with werewolves, kid. There's something worse out there."
Frank frowned. "Worse than werewolves?"
Max nodded. "Ever heard of the Silver Cross Hunters?"
Kenneth shook his head, but the name sent an eerie chill down his spine.
Max continued. "They're an organization dedicated to one thing—hunting and wiping out supernatural creatures. And they're damn good at it. They've been around for centuries, killing werewolves, vampires, anything that doesn't fit in their view of the world."
Kenneth's heart pounded. "And they're here? In Cavite?"
Max exhaled sharply. "They never left. They were behind the 2010 massacre."
Kenneth's breath caught in his throat. "The massacre?"
Max nodded. "Twelve people were slaughtered, but what the police never reported was *who* those twelve were. They weren't just random civilians. They were *werewolves*."
Frank looked stunned. "So the Silver Cross Hunters… wiped out an entire pack?"
"Exactly," Max said. "And I was the only one who survived."
Kenneth felt cold. The weight of everything was pressing down on him. He had gone from being a normal teenager to being thrown into a world of supernatural wars and ancient vendettas.
Max placed a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me, Kenneth. You need to be careful. The Silver Cross Hunters *will* come for you once they realize what you are. And if this new alpha is in town, things are about to get a whole lot worse."
Kenneth's jaw tightened. He wasn't sure how to process any of this. All he knew was that his life had changed forever.
---
Meanwhile, back at school, Jason sat with Jessa outside the gym, his brows furrowed. "I'm telling you, something's up with Kenneth," he muttered, keeping his voice low.
Jessa rolled her eyes, sipping on her drink. "You're overthinking again."
Jason shook his head. "No, seriously. He's acting weird. Faster, stronger. And the way he looked at me in practice yesterday—it wasn't normal."
Jessa tilted her head, studying him. "You've been paying a lot of attention to Kenneth lately."
Jason leaned forward, ignoring her teasing tone. "Think about it. He disappeared after that night in the woods, came back looking like he hadn't even been hurt, and now he's faster than any of us?"
Jessa shrugged. "Maybe he's just been training harder."
Jason scoffed. "No one trains *that* hard. Something's off, and I'm going to find out what."
Jessa sighed, twirling a strand of her hair. "You know, sometimes people change. Maybe he's just different now. You don't have to turn everything into a conspiracy."
Jason didn't respond right away. He just stared off in the distance, determination settling into his features. "If he's hiding something, I'll figure it out."
---
Frank finally spoke. "So what do we do now?"
Max looked at Kenneth seriously. "That depends on you. You can try to live your life like nothing's changed, but it *has*. You can try to run, but they'll find you. Or… you can fight."
Kenneth met his gaze. There was fear in him, but there was something else, too—determination.
"I want to fight."
Max smirked. "Then you'd better be ready. Because the real war is just beginning."