Sneaking in, I walk into class like it belongs to me.
Ugh. Of all the people I didn't want to see, Professor Wilbur. Unfortunately, he's the one in class.
Biology has always been my best subject, and despite the way we bother each other, he's one of the teachers I actually like. Even if he gives me detention after every single class.
But since the wish thing, since everything spiraled, I don't want to meet some people. Especially not him.
I enter without excusing myself, feeling dozens of eyes pinning me against the walls.
"You are late for my class. And you enter without permission?" His voice cuts through the air.
I just stand there, stubborn, refusing to say anything. I can feel everyone's eyes boring into me, their stares so sharp I almost check if I've grown a third nose or something.
The whispers start, sharp and stinging, and with my enhanced hearing, every ugly word reaches me crystal clear.
"Drugs... drugs... he's on drugs..."
Oh, come on. Is this about the other day? The day I lost it because my wish actually came true?
I haven't even been in school for two days, and somehow, they decided the only explanation for me acting weird was drugs.
Perfect.
"Sit. And follow me after the class is over," Wilbur says, voice rough but calm, like he knows something I don't.
I move toward my seat, toward Jade, my best friend, I expect her to give me hard time, whispering, wanting to know where I've been, that's so like her, but she flinches as if I'm contagious, hastily dragging her bag and scooting to another desk without even looking at me.
The betrayal cuts deeper than anything else today. Jade... really?
She's the last person I expect to do that.
My pulse spikes. I know the signs.
The rush of blood pounding in my ears. The furious heat licking under my skin.
If I lose control here, if I let it take over, it won't just be rumors about drugs. I'll end up in jail.
I force myself to breathe, but my hands are already trembling, my vision warping at the edges.
Coming here was a terrible idea.
I thought I could slip back into normal life
, laugh with friends, maybe even pretend nothing happened.
But now everyone looks at me like I'm a ghost. A disease. A ticking bomb.
The thought makes me nauseous. I need to get out. Now.
"Zane? Are you alright?"
Professor Wilbur's voice snaps me back to the present.
I don't answer. Can't.
There's a lump forming in my throat, thick and suffocating.
Crying? Seriously? Because someone asked if I was okay, when I am so far from okay it's almost funny?
"Can I talk to you for a second?" Wilbur says, stepping out of the classroom.
I don't want to follow. I know whatever he's about to say will only make me feel worse.
But somehow, my legs move on their own.
Outside, he studies me with a frown that's almost painful to look at.
"Zane," he says slowly, like he's choosing every word with caution. "You need help. If only you'd accept it, there are people who can help you. You could go back to that hilarious boy you were. Right now... the drugs haven't affected you much. It won't be hard to fix this."
The look on his face, half worry, half helplessness, makes my chest ache in a way I don't want to name.
I've never seen him like this. Not for me. Not for anyone.
"No. Thank you."
It's all I say, all I can say. Then I turn around and walk back into class.
Wilbur follows, trying to resume the lesson, but I can feel his eyes constantly flickering toward me. So do everyone else's. Their stares cling to me like cobwebs, sticky and suffocating.
I slam my hand against my desk, standing up so fast my chair screeches backward.
"Everyone stop looking at me and do whatever brought you here!" I yell.
The room falls into stunned silence.
My palms start sparking, tiny flashes of light dancing over my skin.
Panic crashes into me, this is bad. This is really, really bad.
Suddenly I hear my name.
A whisper, slicing through the tense air.
"Zane..."
I know that voice.
Without thinking, I grab my bag and storm out of the classroom, ignoring Wilbur's calls.
"Zane! Zane Sanderson!"
I don't stop. I don't even look back.
I follow the voice, my feet moving faster and faster until I reach the bathroom where the whisper is coming from.
The moment I step in, a hand yanks me into a stall.
Axel?!
"What are you doing here?!" I hiss, eyes wide, heart pounding like a drum. Unable to process what I'm feeling.
"You don't listen," he growls. "You're in danger out here..."
I cut him off before he can finish.
"What do you care?!" I snap, voice cracking with anger. "Why do you even care if I'm in danger or not? Just leave me alone!"
I try to push past him, but he grabs my arm, strong and unyielding.
"You'll expose us!" he snarls. "You don't understand. Humans and werewolves don't mix. No human knows we exist, even when we're right next to them. If you lose control, you're not just endangering yourself, you're endangering all of us!"
I stare at him, rage and fear twisting inside me like a hurricane. So this is why he is here, not that he cares about me, not that he at least wants to give me the answers I need.
"So you want me to just leave my life behind? Hide in some cave doing nothing?!" I ask, keeping my voice real calm, so done with everything. "I don't even know what the hell you're talking about! And whenever you're ready to tell me what's really going on, then you can find me!"
Before he can stop me, I wrench free and storm out of the bathroom, my emotions boiling over.
I need to get out. I need to go somewhere I can find some peace, it would have been in my room, or just home with my dad, or school, but even my favorite places don't feel right anymore.
Sneaking out of school again, I race home, my mind a chaotic mess.
I'll just lock myself in my room.
The moment I push open the front door, I stop dead.
Dad's home. Again.
Why isn't he at work?
"Hey, Dad," I mutter, trying to breeze past him.
But he steps in front of me, his face tight.
"I know something's happening to you," he says, voice low. "And I don't understand why you're not talking to me. Are we keeping secrets now?"
I open my mouth to answer, but a sharp knock interrupts.
The door opens and a woman steps in.
She's tall, dressed in dark clothes, her eyes glowing faintly.
The air around her hums with power, and every instinct in me screams one word.
Run.
"Sire," she says, bowing slightly. "We've found the person who summoned and unsealed Seth's spirit at the mountain."
Dad's face lights up with something I don't recognize, pride? Hope?
"Who?" he demands eagerly.
The woman's eyes shift toward me.
"Your son," she says, voice like a bell tolling the end of everything.