Enid's POV
Date & Time: Sunday, August 29, 2021, 10:30 AM
The first thing that woke Enid wasn't an alarm. It was the sound.
A low, pathetic rumble that echoed in the pre-noon quiet of the dorm room. She pressed a hand to her stomach, which gurgled again in protest, loud enough to be embarrassing even if no one was awake to hear it. 'Ugh. Food. Need food. Now.'
She'd slept straight through her 9 AM alarm, a deep, exhausted sleep born from the social adrenaline of move-in day and the anxious, glitter-fueled spiral that followed.
Sunlight streamed through her side of the room, pouring through the massive, floor to ceiling bare rosette window and making her rainbow quilt almost glow.
Yoko's side, by contrast, was a cool-toned sanctuary of shadow. A thick, floor-to-ceiling black curtain had been drawn, completely blocking out her half of the window.
A few rebellious slivers of blue and purple light peeked around the heavy fabric, but her black comforter remained undisturbed in the gloom. A stark line of explosive color versus deep shadow.
The hunger was a hollow, demanding ache.
Enid swung her legs off the quilt, her bare feet hitting the cold stone floor. 'Maybe I can drag Yoko to the commissary. Pancakes. Or... whatever passes for pancakes here. Flinx-cakes?' She padded to the door, still half-asleep, and was met by a piece of paper taped to the wood. A stark, simple sign, typed in an offensively boring font.
"COMMISSARY CLOSED - SUNDAYS."
Enid stared at it. The words didn't compute.
'Closed? On a Sunday? Are they TRYING to kill us?' "No," she whispered, the horror immediate and absolute. She pushed the door open a crack, peering into the hallway as if the sign might be a prank. It wasn't. The hallway was empty.
"No no no. It can't be closed. It's Sunday! That's... that's brunch day! Brunch is sacred!" A flash of light from the hallway, reflecting off the doorknob, caught her eye. It was her. A single, stubborn speck of glitter on her temple.
She reflexively scrubbed at it, her nails scraping her skin. "Get... off!" she muttered.
It didn't budge. She'd scrubbed her face raw last night, but this one fleck remained, clinging to her skin like it had been supernaturally bonded. A permanent, sparkling badge of her humiliation. A reminder of yesterday. A reminder of him.
"Apparently, even the undead need a day off."
Enid jumped, spinning around. Yoko was leaning against her own bedpost, looking far too awake. She was dressed in casual goth attire—a band t-shirt layered under a mesh top, ripped black jeans, and those platform boots.
She held up a near-empty blood pack with a look of profound disappointment. "Or the kitchen staff does," Yoko continued, gesturing with the empty pack. "Either way, rations are low."
"But... where do we eat?" Enid's voice was high with panic. This was a catastrophe. "We're going to starve!"
"Relax, Glitter Girl." Yoko's lips twitched, her eyes hidden behind her signature dark sunglasses. She pushed off the bedpost and pulled a folded, wrinkled paper from her jeans pocket. The weekend shuttle schedule. "Weekend shuttle to Jericho runs every hour. Normie coffee shops have pastries. And actual, non-commissary coffee."
The word hit Enid like a physical blow. Her stomach, moments ago demanding food, now clenched in pure, agonizing dread. "Jericho?" she squeaked, her face visibly paling. "With... normies? And... everyone?"
'Jericho. Okay, deep breaths. It's just a town.' But her mind didn't stop there. It never did. It helpfully supplied a full-color, high-definition list of everything that could go wrong. 'But... the pack. The upperclassman pack. They all probably go there on weekends.' She could still feel the "open disdain" from the commissary last night. The way they'd looked at her when she'd smiled at them. The way they'd looked at her when she'd waved at...
'Oh, God. Gabriel.' The other, more complicated, mortifying fear slammed into her.
'What if Gabriel's there? Do I ignore him? Do I wave again? That was so embarrassing. He definitely thinks I'm a stalker. A clumsy, glitter-covered, stalker-freak.'
Yoko's head tilted. Even with the sunglasses, her gaze was too perceptive. It cut right through Enid's flimsy excuse. "Problem?" she drawled, the word laced with amusement. "Afraid the 'boogeyman' might be getting his caffeine fix?"
'Yoko knows. She totally knows. She knows I'm freaking out about the pack, and him. Not just normies. Ugh.'
"No!" Enid said, way too quickly, her voice cracking. "I just... normies are judgey." It was a terrible lie, and they both knew it.
Yoko didn't call her on it, at least not directly. She just shrugged, a small, sharp movement, and walked past Enid toward the door.
"So are werewolves."
Enid flinched. The words were quiet, but they landed like a slap.
"Get dressed," Yoko said from the hallway. "We leave in ten."
---
Gabriel's POV
Date & Time: Sunday, August 29, 2021, 10:35 AM
Gabriel was dreaming of silence. A quiet, empty forest. Snow falling, dampening all sound. No people. No...
BANG. BANG. BANG. The sound was concussive, not just heard but felt, vibrating through the thin mattress and into his skull. It was coming from his side of the room. From his bed.
Ajax. Naturally.
"Rise and shine, Glitter Force!"
'Did he just call me 'Glitter Force' again? It's too early for this. It's too early for him.' Gabriel pulled the pillow over his head, a useless shield. His voice was a muffled groan. "Go away."
"Emergency!" Ajax yelled, his voice somehow even louder. The entire bed frame was shaking now. He was actually shaking it. "Commissary's dead! Repeat, the food source is offline!"
From the other side of the room, Xavier's voice—calm, collected, and laced with an infuriating, aristocratic amusement—cut through the chaos. "He means it's Sunday, Gabriel. It's closed."
Gabriel risked a look from under the pillow. The room was gray and cold. Xavier was already dressed in his usual dark flannel and jeans, sitting at his desk, his back to them. He was sketching in his notebook, a thin line of steam rising from a thermos Gabriel hadn't seen before. The smell of good, dark-roast coffee wafted across the room, a deliberate taunt.
"Exactly!" Ajax gave the bed one last, violent shake and then ripped open Gabriel's bed curtain. The gray morning light stabbed into Gabriel's eyes. He flinched, throwing an arm over his face. "Which means..." Ajax proclaimed, striking a pose, "road trip! Jericho shuttle leaves in twenty. Operation: Caffeine and Pastries is a go!"
Gabriel sat up, shoving his hair out of his eyes and glaring. The combined assault of Ajax's manic energy and the loss of his quiet morning made his skin prickle with a familiar, cold annoyance. "Operation: Leave Me Alone is my go." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not going to Jericho."
'Jericho. Normies. Stares. Small, cramped shops.' He wouldn't just be observed; he'd be jostled. The thought of it made his muscles tense. Leaving campus meant losing control of his environment. It was inherently unsafe. It was stupid.
Xavier looked up from his sketchpad, catching his eye in the reflection from the window. His expression was dry. "You need coffee. Your brooding is subpar without it."
Gabriel's glare shifted to him. He knew that tone.
'I see you're withdrawing again,' the observation clearly implied. 'I'm using humor to gently push you back.'
It was annoying. It was... surprisingly perceptive. And it meant he wasn't going to be allowed to just say no.
"Too late, voted two-to-one." Ajax was already over at Gabriel's trunk, rummaging through it. "Majority rules."
"That's not how..." Gabriel started, but Ajax was already pulling out a clean black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. "Unless you want to starve until Monday?" Ajax tossed the clothes onto the bed. He then turned to Gabriel's desk chair, where the glitter-infected blazer from yesterday was still draped. He pointedly picked up a book that was sitting next to the blazer, looked at the glittery sleeve as if it might be contagious, and then looked away, deliberately not touching it.
'So, we're all just going to pretend the tactical glitter bomb didn't happen. Fine.'
Gabriel let his head fall back against the headboard with a soft thud. They were serious. They were a pincer movement of chaos and calm. They were actually going to drag him off campus, into a town full of normies, just for a pastry. He sighed, the sound one of pure, resigned suffering.
'This is exhausting.' Then, a secondary thought, sharp and satisfying, cut through the annoyance.
'Alaric would disapprove. Vehemently. He'd call this a 'breach of protocol.' He'd say they were 'compromising the mission.' Good.' The small spark of defiance felt good. It felt better than the annoyance. He grabbed the pillow he'd been hiding under and threw it, hard, at Ajax's head. "Fine. Get out so I can change."
---
Gabriel's POV
The shuttle was a small, rattling metal box. It smelled faintly of wet dog and damp wool, a scent that clung to the worn, blue-gray fabric of the seats. 'This shuttle smells like regret and damp fur.'
Gabriel had pushed his way to a window seat near the back, a small, grimy square of glass he could press his shoulder against. It was a defensible position, minimizing physical contact on at least one side. The bus was more crowded than he'd expected, a mix of goths, gorgons, and other Nevermore students he didn't recognize, all talking in low murmurs.
The proximity of so many bodies in the enclosed space made his skin crawl. Xavier, blessedly quiet, took the seat next to him, immediately pulling out his sketchbook as if a barrier. Ajax, however, sat across the aisle. But he didn't stay across the aisle. He sat on the edge of his own seat, leaning so far into their space, over the armrest, that he was practically in their laps.
"Okay, first Jericho mission: find coffee strong enough to wake the dead." Ajax was speaking at a volume that made Gabriel's teeth ache. It was a performance. The few other students nearby shot them annoyed looks. Gabriel sank lower in his seat, wishing he could disappear into the upholstery. "Or at least strong enough for grumpy vampires," Ajax continued, even louder. He nodded pointedly toward the front of the bus.
Gabriel followed his gaze, his eyes scanning the rows. And then he saw her.
A splash of blonde hair. A painfully colorful sweater, all pinks and yellows. 'There she is. Sinclair.'
She was seated a few rows ahead, also by a window. Next to her sat the vampire from last night, still in her casual goth clothes, who already had earbuds in and was projecting an aura of total indifference to the world. As if she could feel him looking, Enid's head turned—just fractionally. Her eyes didn't meet his. They seemed to slide right past him, and then she became intensely, suddenly fascinated by the window on her side, her shoulders hunching forward slightly.
'She's pointedly looking away.' He felt a strange, contradictory pang. A flicker of... something. Annoyance. She hadn't been scared yesterday. She'd just been... there. A clumsy, colorful, glitter-covered event. Now she was acting like everyone else. Now she was treating him like plague.
'Did someone talk to her? That vampire she's with? Figures.' He should be relieved. He was relieved.
Xavier, who missed nothing, leaned in slightly. His pencil hadn't stopped moving, sketching the back of a gorgon's head two rows up. "Looks like your 'partner in crime' is giving you the cold shoulder, Gabriel."
The observation was sharp, a clear probe. 'What happened between the Quad and now?' it asked. 'Did the rumors get to her? Are you the reason?'
"Good," Gabriel said, turning to stare out his own window at the blur of the forest passing by. 'It's safer if she avoids me. Less chance of... complications.' He said it. He meant it. It was the truth. It was his core principle. So why did it grate? Why did it feel like an insult?
"Nah, man, she's probably just embarrassed about the glitter thing!" Ajax chimed in, completely, blissfully oblivious to the undercurrents. "You gotta break the ice. Go offer her a napkin or something."
"Absolutely not," Gabriel said, the words sharp.
"Dude, you still have glitter in your hair. Right there." Ajax pointed, leaning even further into their space. Gabriel instinctively leaned away. "A pretty big piece."
"I'm aware," Gabriel replied, his voice flat and cold.
He was. He'd spent ten minutes in the shower trying to wash the flecks out of his dark hair. They hadn't budged. They clung to his scalp, tiny, sharp, sparkling reminders. They were like a curse.
"It catches the light," Xavier offered, his voice far too neutral. "Very festive."
Gabriel closed his eyes, the image of the forest behind his eyelids a much safer place. "If I turn into a werewolf right now," he said, his voice low, "I'm biting you both first."
'And the beast would kill everyone here.' The thought was instant, cold, and heavy. A fact. Not a joke. A simple statement of what he was.
"Promise?" said Ajax, completely oblivious to the cold weight of the thought, or the reason Gabriel's hands had just clenched into fists on his knees.
Fifteen minutes of rattling, cramped tension later, the shuttle groaned to a stop in Jericho's cobblestone square.
---
Enid's POV
The shuttle's brakes squeaked in protest. The sudden stop threw Enid forward slightly before she caught herself. They were in a bustling, cobblestone town square that looked like it had been pulled from a postcard for "Quaint New England Village."
She stepped off the bus into a wall of noise and smells—car exhaust, old brick, and something sweet and greasy from a food cart. The world felt aggressively bright and... plain.
'Okay, Jericho. It's... smaller than I thought. And everyone looks so... plain.' There were no fangs, no scales, no one trying to hide their face-snakes under a beanie. Just... people. People in bland autumn jackets, milling around, sipping from paper cups, looking completely and totally normal.
Almost immediately, the stares began.
It wasn't subtle. A woman walking a small, yappy dog stopped dead on the sidewalk, her mouth tightening into a thin line as she openly gawked at their distinctive Nevermore presence—Enid's bright colors, Yoko's goth style.
A man sitting on a bench looked up from his newspaper, his eyes snagging on Yoko's sunglasses and dark clothes. He didn't even pretend to look away.
'They're staring. At my sweater? My hair? The glitter I know is still stuck somewhere?' Enid felt her cheeks heat up, a hot, prickling wave of embarrassment. She instinctively shrank, trying to make herself smaller, her shoulders hunching. She had the sudden, desperate urge to pull her blonde hair over her face like a curtain.
Yoko, however, seemed to do the opposite. She actually walked taller, her chin lifting, radiating an aloof coolness that dared anyone to comment. She was a column of black in a sea of beige.
Enid hurried to stay in her shadow, taking two quick steps to get right behind her left shoulder, using her friend as a physical and social shield. "Everyone's staring," Enid whispered, her voice tight and high.
"Let them stare." Yoko adjusted her sunglasses, not breaking stride. The bright, unfiltered sunlight was clearly annoying her, making the corners of her mouth twitch. "It's probably the highlight of their dull normie lives."
'Don't let them see your fear,' Yoko's tone said, clear as a bell. 'They're irrelevant. You're better than them.'
Enid wasn't so sure, but she nodded anyway. She spotted their destination across the square: The Weathervane, a cozy-looking coffee shop with a little bell above the door and steam fogging up the front windows. The smell of roasted coffee and baked sugar wafted out, momentarily warring with the diesel fumes from the bus.
"Okay, coffee," Enid muttered, mostly to herself, a mantra to stay focused. "Coffee is good. Normal. I can do normal." 'Normal means no one's judging you for not being werewolf-y enough. They're just judging you for being a... a... whatever they think we are. A freak.'
Yoko eyed the shop's "Ye Olde" font. "Define normal."
As they reached the door after a few minutes of navigating the square, Enid couldn't help it. Her anxiety was a live wire, and it made her glance back over her shoulder, just a quick, jerky motion. Gabriel's group had gotten off the shuttle after them.
They were heading in the same direction, though they kept their distance. The gorgon and the artistic-looking one were talking, the gorgon gesturing wildly with his hands. And then there was Gabriel.
He walked a few feet apart from them, hands jammed deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the cobblestones at his feet as if he was trying to bore a hole in them. He looked just as miserable to be here as she felt. Her stomach did a nervous flip, a different kind of anxiety mixing with the first.
'Just get inside. Coffee. Pastries. Don't make eye contact. Don't look at them. Or glittery boogeymen.' She grabbed the cold, brass door handle and pulled.
---
Enid's POV
They walked in, the little bell above the door jangling, loud and jarring. Enid was hit with the smell of burnt coffee and... a sudden, icy silence from a large table in the corner. She froze, stumbling slightly.
'Okay, there they are.'
It was them. The same three upperclassman werewolves from the commissary last night. The broad-shouldered one in the lead, flanked by his two smirking copies. 'They are pack,' she thought, her heart giving a stupid, hopeful little leap. 'And I'm a werewolf. I could be a member of a pack. I should be. Not them specifically, maybe, but getting friendly shouldn't be a problem, right?'
She had to try. This was her chance. Forcing a bright, wobbly smile, she gave a small wave. "Hey guys! Fancy seeing you here!"
The lead werewolf—the one who had stared at her yesterday—looked up. His eyes met hers. They were cold. He didn't just look at her, he looked through her, as if she were a ghost, a puff of air. Then, with a deliberate, crushing slowness, he turned his gaze back to his friend and resumed his conversation, a small, dismissive smirk on his face. One of the others snickered.
'He... he looked right through me. They all did.' A physical coldness washed over her, making her unsteady on her feet. Then, just loud enough for her to hear over the hiss of the espresso machine, the lead wolf muttered to his friends, "Smells like... desperation. And glitter."
'They hate me.' The confirmation wasn't a thought, it was a physical feeling. A cold stone dropping into her stomach. Her wobbly smile shattered. She could feel the blood drain from her face.
'Because of Gabriel? Because I waved? Because I'm... not like them? Because I haven't wolfed out yet?' The insecurity twisted inside her, sharp and painful.
She felt Yoko's hand on her back, a small, firm pressure. Her friend physically stepped slightly in front of her, a protective shield.
'Yoko heard him. Oh god. This is awful.'
"Got a problem?" Yoko's voice was low and cold, directed at the werewolves' backs. They didn't even turn around.
The bell jangled again, loud and jarring, cutting off the tense moment. Enid turned. Three normie boys had just entered, radiating an aggressive, loud energy. The lead one was lanky with curly brown hair and a smirk that made Enid's skin crawl.
The bell jangled again right behind them, and Enid's stomach clenched. Gabriel and his friends entered right after the normies, stopping just inside the threshold as the small space became instantly crowded.
The curly-haired normie glanced back over his shoulder towards the doorway bottleneck, his smirk widening as his eyes landed on the gorgon, who was stuck behind him. "Didn't know Nevermore let their pets off leash."
"Or their craft projects," another normie boy near the door snickered, gesturing vaguely back towards the glitter lingering in Gabriel's hair. "What's up, Sparkles? Snake-freak bring his sparkly boyfriend to town?"
'Snake-freak? Sparkles? They're talking about... Gabriel and his friends? This is going to be bad.'
"Dude, what's your problem?" The gorgon asked from his position stuck near the entrance, more confused than defensive.
The curly-haired boy ignored him, shouldering past Enid and planting himself in front of her and Yoko, blocking their path to the counter. He was so close she could smell the cheap cologne on him. "This place has really gone downhill. Letting freaks in now?"
Yoko didn't flinch. She just raised an eyebrow, her cool facade perfect. "Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about the normie infestation."
"What'd you say, vamp?" His friend stepped closer, trying to use his height to intimidate them.
"She said," a calm voice cut in from the direction of the doorway, where Gabriel's group was still partially blocked, "you're in the way."
Enid glanced back slightly. It was the artistic-looking one, stepping forward from the bottleneck, his voice cutting and controlled as he addressed the normie leader's back from several feet away.
The curly-haired normie's expression darkened. He turned, squaring up toward the artist, his friends moving to flank him. The air shifted—tense, pre-fight energy crackling through the small shop.
And then Gabriel moved.
He stepped out of the bottleneck and into the normie's personal space in one smooth, deliberate motion. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't move aggressively. He just looked directly at the curly-haired normie, and the temperature in the shop dropped.
"Walk away."
It was barely a command. It was a statement, flat and cold. The hiss of the espresso machine was suddenly the only sound. From the corner, Enid heard the sharp scrape of chairs. The upperclassman werewolves—the ones who had just looked through her like she was nothing—went rigid, their heads snapping toward Gabriel. Their eyes were wide, startled. They exchanged quick, tense looks, then quickly gathered their things and hurried out through the side exit without a word.
'What just happened?' The air felt wrong, colder, heavier. Her hindbrain screamed something primal—THREAT—but Gabriel hadn't even raised his voice.
The lead normie's smirk faltered. Just for a second—a flicker of something primal crossing his face—but then he forced it back, puffing his chest out. "Whatever, man." His voice came out tight, higher than before. He tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled. "This place is a dump anyway. C'mon."
Gabriel stepped deliberately aside, clearing their path to the front door.
The normie's friends followed, moving just a little too quickly to look truly casual. The bell jangled loudly behind them.
Through the front window, Enid could see them stop on the sidewalk. The curly-haired one shoved his friend's shoulder, saying something sharp. Saving face. Pretending it had been their idea. But they didn't come back inside.
The barista, looking deeply annoyed by the whole spectacle, called out from the counter: "So. Anyone actually ordering coffee, or are you all just here for the show?"
"Me!" Enid squeaked, her voice high and flustered.
"Me," Gabriel said at the same time, forcing his voice back to its usual cold, flat tone as he turned toward the counter. They looked at each other, startled. Gabriel gave a short, sharp nod and gestured toward the counter.
Enid turned to the barista, her voice still shaky but now unnecessarily loud. "Hi! Can I get a quad espresso with honey, please? And maybe... a muffin?"
The barista nodded, already moving. "You?"
"Same," Gabriel said. "Just the coffee."
While they waited near the pickup area, Enid fidgeted. She could feel him beside her, a quiet, solid presence. She glanced at him, then away, then back again.
"Uh... hi again." She gestured vaguely with one hand, her cheeks burning. "Sorry about... you know."
"It seems memorable things happen around you," he said. The tone was almost... was that dry humor?
Her nervous smile turned into a small, genuine one. "Catastrophically clumsy, remember?"
"Quad honey," the barista said, sliding the first cup onto the counter. They both reached for it at the same time. Their hands nearly collided.
"Oh! Sorry!" Enid pulled back, flustered. "You can—"
"It's fine." He let her take it, his voice quieter than before.
"Thanks." She clutched the cup like a lifeline, her hands still trembling slightly. She took a small step back towards Yoko, who had materialized silently beside her near the napkin dispenser. They exchanged a few whispered words, Yoko's expression unreadable behind her sunglasses, and then Yoko steered Enid toward a small two-person table against the wall, several feet from the booth near the entrance.
Gabriel took his own coffee when the barista slid it over. He turned, intending to head straight for the door, but the artist was already sliding into the booth by the entrance, the gorgon plopping down opposite him, already unwrapping a muffin from the counter display. The artist met Gabriel's gaze and gave a subtle nod toward the empty seat beside him.
Gabriel moved to the booth, sliding onto the bench seat facing the door. He took a scalding sip, clearly aware of them seated several feet away.
"...You still have glitter." He kept his voice low, gesturing vaguely toward his own temple, indicating the spot on her face. "On your..."
Enid touched her face, her fingers finding the stubborn speck, and groaned softly. Her shoulders slumped in total defeat. "I know!"
An awkward, super-charged silence descended. Enid stared intently into her cup at her table, picking nervously at the edge of her muffin. Yoko, seated opposite her, was glaring daggers at Gabriel over Enid's head. At the booth, the artist had found a new, intense interest in the shop's ceiling mural. Only the gorgon seemed oblivious, cheerfully taking another large bite of his muffin.
Enid took a tiny, tentative sip of her coffee, wincing slightly at the heat but finding the bitter-sweet taste oddly comforting.
A tense minute ticked by, filled only by the hiss of the espresso machine and the gorgon's chewing.
"Okay," the artist said abruptly, checking his watch and breaking the strange tableau. "Shuttle leaves in ten. We should go."
Gabriel nodded once. He downed the rest of the hot coffee in three quick swallows and slid out of the booth, setting the cup down with a sharp click.
He turned and walked out without looking back, his two friends falling into step beside him.
Behind him, Enid heard Yoko's voice, dry and pointed. "Come on, Glitter Girl. Before you actually spiral."
---
Gabriel's POV
Gabriel's first instinct upon entering, right behind the loud trio of normie boys, was to leave. The shop was small, hot, smelled like burnt beans, and they were immediately stuck in a bottleneck just inside the door.
He immediately clocked the upperclassman werewolves in the corner. He saw Sinclair try to wave at them, saw the lead wolf look right through her, heard the muttered insult about "desperation and glitter." She looked crushed. 'Predictable.' The normies they had followed in were already starting before he could process it further. The lanky one with the curly hair glanced back over his shoulder, smirking at Ajax, trapped behind him. "Didn't know Nevermore let their pets off leash."
'Normies. Predictable. Loud, aggressive, stupid.'
"Or their craft projects," the normie's friend beside him snickered, gesturing vaguely back towards Gabriel. "What's up, Sparkles? Snake-freak bring his sparkly boyfriend to town?"
Gabriel's entire body went rigid. 'Sparkly. Boyfriend.' The insult was juvenile, inane, but the hot spike of anger was immediate. Not for himself. For Ajax. For the implication. They were targeting his... companions. The anger felt the same regardless of the word. They were with him, and these normies were a threat.
He heard Ajax puff up from behind the normies near the door, his voice more confused than angry. "Dude, what's your problem?"
'Idiot. He's trying to reason with them.'
The lead normie ignored Ajax and shouldered past Sinclair and the vampire to block their path further inside. Gabriel saw Xavier take a step forward from the bottleneck near the door, his voice calm and cutting as he addressed the normie leader from a distance. "She said... you're in the way."
'Dangerous. In his own way. But it won't work.'
The curly-haired normie's face darkened, turning his full attention to Xavier, squaring up. His friends moved to flank him. Gabriel saw the shift—the pre-fight tension, the way the normie's shoulders set, the way his fists clenched. This was about to get physical.
Gabriel didn't let it get that far. This was noise. This was chaos. This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. He took a deliberate step forward, out of the bottleneck and into the normie's personal space, deciding to do what Alaric had trained him not to do in public. He let the coldness out.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't move aggressively. He just looked directly at the curly-haired normie, and let the predator that lived under his skin look out through his eyes.
"Walk away."
It was barely a command. It was a statement, flat and cold. The temperature in the small shop felt like it dropped five degrees. The hiss of the espresso machine was suddenly the only sound.
From the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw the upperclassman werewolves stiffen, muscles tensing. They exchanged wide-eyed looks, then quickly gathered their things and hurried out through the side exit without a word. 'Good riddance.'
The lead normie's smirk faltered. Just for a second—a flicker of something primal crossing his face—but then he forced it back, puffing his chest out. "Whatever, man." His voice came out tight, higher than before. He tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled. "This place is a dump anyway. C'mon."
Gabriel stepped deliberately aside, clearing their path to the front door.
The normie's friends followed, moving just a little too quickly to look truly casual. The bell jangled loudly behind them.
Through the front window, Gabriel could see them stop on the sidewalk. The curly-haired one shoved his friend's shoulder, saying something sharp. Saving face. Pretending it had been their idea. But they didn't come back inside.
The adrenaline drained out of Gabriel instantly, leaving him feeling cold, shaky, and vaguely nauseous. He turned away from the door, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of what he'd just done – letting that presence out, losing control – settled heavily in his gut. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, jaw tight with annoyance and self-disgust. 'Stupid. Reckless. Tired of this.'
The barista, looking deeply annoyed by the whole spectacle, called out from the counter: "So. Anyone actually ordering coffee, or are you all just here for the show?"
"Me!" Sinclair squeaked from near the counter, her voice high and flustered.
"Me," Gabriel said at the same time, forcing his voice back to its usual cold, flat tone as he turned back towards the counter. They looked at each other, startled. Gabriel gave a short, sharp nod and gestured toward the counter. 'Let her go first. Get this over with.'
Enid turned to the barista, her voice still shaky but now unnecessarily loud. "Hi! Can I get a quad espresso with honey, please? And maybe... a muffin?"
Gabriel's head turned slightly. 'Quad espresso with honey? Who else orders that?'
The barista nodded, already moving. "You?"
"Same," Gabriel said. "Just the coffee."
While they waited near the pickup area, Sinclair fidgeted beside him. He could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off her. She glanced at him, then away, then back again.
"Uh... hi again." She gestured vaguely with one hand, her cheeks flushed. "Sorry about... you know."
'She's talking to me. After yesterday. After the pack just shunned her. After the warning she must have gotten. After what I just did. Why?'
"It seems memorable things happen around you," he said. The callback was unintentional, but it fit.
Her nervous smile turned into a small, genuine one. "Catastrophically clumsy, remember?"
"Quad honey," the barista said, sliding the first cup onto the counter. They both reached for it at the same time. Their hands nearly collided.
"Oh! Sorry!" Enid pulled back, flustered. "You can—"
"It's fine." He let her take it, his voice quieter than before.
"Thanks." She clutched the cup like a lifeline, still looking shaky from the normie encounter or maybe even before that. She took a small step back towards Yoko, who had materialized silently beside her near the napkin dispenser. They exchanged a few whispered words, Yoko's expression unreadable behind her sunglasses, and then Yoko steered Enid toward a small two-person table against the wall, several feet from the booth near the entrance.
Gabriel took his own coffee when the barista slid it over. He turned, intending to head straight for the door, but Xavier was already sliding into the booth by the entrance, Ajax plopping down opposite him and already unwrapping a muffin from the counter display. Xavier met his gaze and gave a subtle nod toward the empty seat beside him.
'Fine.' Gabriel moved reluctantly toward the booth, sliding onto the bench seat facing the door. At least his back was covered. He took a scalding sip, acutely aware of Sinclair and her vampire friend seated at the small table several feet away. Close enough to hear, if they weren't careful.
"...You still have glitter." He kept his voice low, gesturing vaguely toward his own temple, indicating the spot on her face. "On your..."
Enid touched her face, her fingers finding the stubborn speck, and groaned softly. Her shoulders slumped in total defeat. "I know!"
'Still has glitter. It suits her.' He was immediately, violently annoyed at the thought. An awkward, super-charged silence descended. Enid was staring intently into her cup at her table, picking nervously at the edge of her muffin.
Yoko, seated opposite her, was glaring daggers at him over Enid's head. In his booth, Xavier had found a new, intense interest in the shop's ceiling mural. Only Ajax seemed oblivious, cheerfully taking another large bite of his muffin.
Gabriel took another sip of his coffee. It was still too hot, burning his tongue, but the bitterness was grounding. He glanced over as Enid took a tiny, tentative sip of her own, wincing slightly at the heat but seemingly unfazed by the taste.
'That specific taste. Shared. Unsettling.'
A tense minute ticked by, filled only by the hiss of the espresso machine and Ajax's chewing.
"Okay," Xavier said abruptly, checking his watch and breaking the strange tableau. "Shuttle leaves in ten. We should go."
Gabriel nodded once, the relief immediate. He downed the rest of the hot coffee in three quick, painful swallows, relishing the burn. Better than the charged silence, Yoko's glare, whatever this was. He slid out of the booth, setting the cup down with a sharp click.
He turned and walked out without looking back, Ajax and Xavier falling into step beside him. Behind him, he heard Yoko's voice, dry and pointed. "Come on, Glitter Girl. Before you actually spiral."
---
Enid's POV
The shuttle ride back was quiet. Too quiet.
Enid sat by the window, tracing patterns on the condensation with her finger, her other hand loosely resting in her lap. Yoko was beside her, earbuds back in, but Enid wasn't staring determinedly away this time. She was staring at nothing, replaying the moment in the coffee shop on an endless loop.
'The way he said it.' Two words. That was all Gabriel had said. "Walk away." But it hadn't been a request. It hadn't even been a command. It had been a certainty.
The coldness behind the words. And the temperature had dropped. Actually dropped. She'd felt it—a cold wave rolling through the cramped coffee shop, making the hair on her arms stand up.
For one split second, her hindbrain had screamed.
THREAT. DANGER. RUN.
Every instinct she had recognized it. Her pulse had spiked. Her hands had gone cold. Her breath had caught. Even the upperclassmen werewolves had gone rigid, their muscles tense, heads snapping toward Gabriel with wide, startled eyes before they quickly gathered their things and left through the side exit.
'That wasn't normal. That... That was a predator.'
The normie bullies had tried to play it off. The curly-haired one had puffed his chest, forced a laugh, muttered something about the place being a "dump." But his voice had cracked. And they'd left—moving just a bit too fast to look casual. Pretending it was their idea. But it hadn't been. Gabriel had made them leave.
'He protected us.' The thought made her chest feel tight and strange. But then—and this was the part that kept replaying, the part that didn't fit—she'd looked at him right after, when he turned away from the door, his shoulders slumping slightly. He'd looked... tired. Annoyed. His jaw had been tight, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. And for just a moment, his face had shown something she recognized.
Shame.
'He didn't want to do that. He hated that he did it.' That wasn't what a boogeyman did. That was what someone trying not to be dangerous did. She bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the scratched window reflection. Three rows back, on the opposite side, she could just barely make out Gabriel's dark silhouette. He was sitting by the window, his posture still tense, his head turned away from his two friends. The atmosphere around all three felt heavy, quiet.
He looked... alone. Even with his friends right there, he looked alone.
'He protected us. And now he's sitting there like he committed a crime.'
"You're staring."
Enid jumped, her head snapping toward Yoko. Her roommate had pulled out one earbud, her expression unreadable behind the dark sunglasses.
"What? No!" Enid whispered, her face flushing hot. "I was just... looking out the window."
Yoko's voice was flat, but there was an edge to it. "At Beoulve."
Enid looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together in her lap. "He was protecting us," she said quietly.
Yoko was silent for a long moment. "This time," she said finally, her voice softer but no less serious. "He protected us this time. But that kind of power, Enid? That kind of... presence? It doesn't have an off switch. And you saw how he looked after. He scared himself."
'She's right. He did look scared. Of himself.' Enid bit her lip, her gaze drifting back to the window. Back to his reflection.
"What if..." She hesitated, the words feeling dangerous even as she said them. "What if the reason he's so isolated is because he's trying to protect people? Not hurt them?"
Yoko sighed, a long, resigned sound. She slid the earbud back in, her voice muffled but still audible. "Then he's doing a terrible job. Because everyone's terrified of him anyway."
Enid didn't respond. Because Yoko was right. Everyone was terrified of him. The bullies had left with their tails between their legs, no matter how much they'd tried to hide it. The upperclassmen werewolves had looked at him like he was a bomb about to go off before they ran.
But she hadn't been. Scared, yes—for a second. That instinctive, primal flash of danger. But not terrified. Because she'd seen his face afterward. She'd seen the shame. The exhaustion. And then, later, just a few feet away, he'd talked to her. Noticed her glitter. Made that dry, almost-joke callback.
"It seems memorable things happen around you." 'He didn't use that presence on me. He didn't use it on any of us. Just the bullies. Just the threat.' Her hand drifted to her temple, fingers brushing the stubborn speck of glitter that refused to wash off. 'Maybe Yoko's wrong. Or maybe... maybe he's just really, really lonely.'
The shuttle lurched to a stop. Nevermore's iron gates loomed outside.
"Come on, Glitter Girl." Yoko stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Her voice was gentler now, resigned. "Let's get you back before you spiral into a full existential crisis."
"I'm not spiraling," Enid protested, following her into the aisle.
"Sure you're not."
As they filed off the shuttle, Enid couldn't help it. She glanced back. Gabriel was still sitting by the window, his gaze fixed on something outside. His two friends were talking to each other, but he wasn't looking at them.
He looked so... separate. 'He protected us. And now he's sitting there like he committed a crime.' The thought made her chest ache in a way she didn't fully understand.
---
Enid's POV
The first thing Enid did when they got back was flop face-first onto her rainbow quilt. The second thing was groan into the fabric, long and dramatic.
Yoko, sipping a fresh blood pack she'd pulled from the mini-fridge, watched her with the patience of someone observing a particularly melodramatic cat. "You okay?"
Enid turned her head just enough to speak without suffocating herself. "That pack... they really hate me now, don't they?" She pictured the lead werewolf's cold eyes looking right through her. 'My worst fear came true. I tried to belong, and they rejected me.'
"Their loss," Yoko said with a shrug, tossing the empty pack into her bin. "Pack of idiots."
Enid pushed herself up onto her elbows, looking at her roommate. Yoko was already back in her usual position—lounging on her perfectly neat black comforter, sunglasses still on even indoors, projecting an aura of supreme indifference. But she'd stepped in front of Enid. Twice. Once with the werewolves. Once with the normies.
"...Thanks for... you know. Stepping in front." Enid's voice was small. "With the werewolves. And the normies."
Yoko avoided her gaze, picking at a loose thread on her comforter with deliberate focus. "Someone had to. Besides, normies are annoying."
'Of course I protected you. You're my friend,' the deflection clearly meant. 'But I'm not going to make a big deal out of it.' Enid felt a small, warm flicker of gratitude cut through the cold rejection from the pack. She had one friend, at least. One person who didn't care about her untransformed status or her catastrophically bad judgment in who she waved at. 'And Gabriel... what was he? Protector? Boogeyman? Definitely not friend... yet?'
She picked at a stray glitter fleck on her quilt—a remnant from yesterday's disaster that had somehow migrated to her bedding. 'But he... talked to me. Right there, even after the bullies. He noticed the glitter. He wasn't mean.'
"Question," Enid said, still staring at the glitter. "Hypothetically. If someone... warned you about a person. Said they were dangerous. But then that person was, like, weirdly nice to you—twice—and maybe even protected you from some jerks, would you... I don't know. Trust the warning? Or trust the nice?"
Yoko was silent for a long moment. Then: "Depends."
"On?"
"On whether 'nice' was genuine, or just a better mask than 'dangerous.'" Yoko tilted her head, her gaze sharp even through the sunglasses. "And whether 'dangerous' is aimed at you, or just around you. Why? You planning to test the boogeyman theory?"
"No!" Enid said, way too quickly. "I'm just... thinking."
"Dangerous pastime."
"I know." Enid flopped back down, staring at the ceiling.
'They hate me. The pack hates me. All because I waved at a boy Yoko told me to avoid.' 'But he... talked to me. Right there. Even after the bullies. He noticed the glitter. He wasn't mean.' 'Maybe Yoko's wrong? Or maybe... maybe he's just really good at pretending?' But the problem was, he hadn't felt like he was pretending. He'd felt... tired. Annoyed. Real.
And he'd ordered the same ridiculous coffee. 'We ordered the same coffee. He protected us. He caught me yesterday. So... maybe he's not that bad?'
---
Gabriel's POV
Gabriel stood by the window, his back to the room, hands jammed deep in his pockets. His fingers found the wolf ring, tracing the snarling head in slow, deliberate circles.
'Stupid. That was stupid. Reckless.'
The shuttle ride back had been... tense. Not hostile. Not fearful. Just... quiet. Ajax had tried to crack a joke halfway back, but it had fallen flat. Xavier had sketched in silence, his pencil moving in sharp, agitated strokes. They hadn't said anything about it. Not yet. But they would.
"So." Ajax's voice cut through the silence, too careful, too measured. Not his usual manic energy. "That thing you did. In the coffee shop."
'Here it comes.' Gabriel didn't turn around. "I told them to leave."
"Yeah, man, but you didn't just tell them." Ajax's footsteps creaked on the old floorboards as he moved closer. Not all the way. Just... closer. "You did that... wolf thing. That whole presence. The 'I'm going to rip your throat out' vibe."
"I didn't touch them," Gabriel said, his voice flat and cold. A wall going up.
"I know!" Ajax said quickly. "I'm not saying you did anything wrong! They totally deserved it. They were being dicks. I'm just... are you okay?"
'Am I okay? What kind of question is that?' Gabriel's hand clenched around the ring, the carved edges biting into his palm through the fabric of his pocket. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," Xavier said quietly from his bed. Gabriel could feel his gaze, sharp and assessing, even without looking. "You've been standing at that window since we got back. You haven't moved. That's not 'fine.'"
Gabriel's jaw tightened. 'They're analyzing me. Probing. Looking for cracks.' "I said I'm fine."
"Dude." Ajax moved closer again, and Gabriel felt his muscles tense instinctively. "You just went full predator mode on a bunch of normies to protect us. That's, like, the opposite of your whole 'stay away from me' thing. So either you're having a crisis, or you secretly like us, and I'm betting on crisis."
'He's not wrong.' The thought was immediate, unwelcome, and undeniable. He'd broken his own rules. He'd drawn attention. He'd let that... thing... surface in public. Because they'd been crowding Ajax. Because they'd been crowding her. Because instinct had roared louder than training. 'This is why isolation is safety. This is exactly why.'
"I shouldn't have done that," Gabriel said, the words coming out harsher than he intended. "It was reckless. It drew attention. The upperclassmen saw. They'll talk. Add it to the list."
"Good," Ajax said, with surprising firmness. "Let them talk. Those assholes were asking for it. Let them talk about how they just let the Freshman they supposed to protect get bullied with them around."
"You don't understand." Gabriel finally turned, his gray eyes cold and sharp. Ajax flinched slightly—just a micro-movement, but Gabriel saw it. 'There. That's the fear. That's what I am.' "That... presence. It's not a performance. It's not something I do. And when I let it out, I could lose control. I could do more damage than that. It's dangerous."
Xavier closed his sketchbook with a soft snap, sitting up. His green eyes were steady, unflinching. "Dangerous to who?"
"To everyone."
"Bullshit," Xavier said, his tone calm but cutting. "You stopped them. You didn't hurt them. You made them leave. That wasn't danger."
'Control? That wasn't control, it's me letting go of control.' Gabriel shook his head, turning back to the window. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Then explain it to us," Ajax said, and his voice had shifted—less manic, more genuine. "Because from where I was standing, you just saved our asses. And yeah, it was scary. But it was also, like, the most badass thing I've ever seen. And now you're acting like you committed a crime."
Gabriel was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the gray sky outside.
'How do I explain the coldness? The certainty? That it wasn't a choice? That it just... happened? That losing control, even a little, feels like standing on a cliff edge?' He couldn't.
"I let go," he said finally, the words quiet but absolute. "It won't happen again."
Behind him, he heard Xavier sigh—soft, resigned, but not dismissive.
"For the record," Xavier said, picking up his sketchbook again. His pencil started moving, soft scratches against paper. "We're not scared of you. Startled? Maybe. Impressed? Definitely. But not scared."
"Speak for yourself," Ajax muttered. "I was a little scared. But, like, in a 'whoa, Glitter Force is really a badass' way. Not a 'run for your life' way."
Gabriel didn't respond. He just traced the wolf ring again, the motion grounding.
'They didn't leave. After seeing that. After feeling that. They're still here.' The thought should have been comforting. It wasn't. It just made the weight in his chest heavier. Because now they'd seen it. They'd felt a glimpse of what he really was. And they were still here, making jokes, acting like it was fine.
'But it's not fine. It's never fine.'
"So," Ajax said, his voice returning to its usual brightness, though Gabriel could hear the forced edge to it. "Your 'partner in crime.' She looked pretty freaked out by the normies. You gonna check on her, or...?"
Gabriel's hand stilled on the ring.
'Sinclair.' She'd been scared. He'd seen it in her wide blue eyes, the way she'd shrunk when the curly-haired normie had gotten too close. And then she'd talked to him afterward. Smiled at him. Ordered that ridiculous coffee.
"We ordered the same coffee," Gabriel said, the words escaping before he could stop them.
There was a beat of silence. Then Xavier's pencil stopped. He looked up, a teasing smile touching his lips. "**Really now?**"
Gabriel nodded once, still facing the window.
"Interesting," Xavier murmured, the smile widening slightly as he looked back down at his sketchpad.
"What's interesting?" Ajax asked. "That they like coffee?"
"Not everyone orders a quad-shot with honey," Xavier said. "It's an unusual choice. Specific. You have to ask for it."
'And she asked for it. Without hesitating. Like it was normal.'
Gabriel stared out at the gray sky, his jaw tight.
'She talked to me. After the bullies. After she felt the beast. She should have run. She should have been terrified.'
But she hadn't been.
She'd just... smiled. Made a self-deprecating joke. Touched the glitter on her face right there, inches away, with that same flustered, genuine awkwardness from the Quad.
"Catastrophically clumsy, remember?"
'Why isn't anyone acting the way they're supposed to?'
Gabriel's gaze dropped to Xavier's sketchbook. From his angle by the window, he could just make out the image—rough charcoal lines of the coffee shop counter, crowded figures sketched in quick strokes. And there, in the bottom corner, barely more than an outline: two hands reaching for the same cup.
Xavier caught him looking and closed the book with a soft snap, his expression unreadable.
Behind him, Ajax was already launching into another retelling of the coffee shop incident, his voice bright and loud and relentlessly, bewilderingly loyal.
Gabriel didn't tell him to shut up.
He just stood there, tracing the wolf on his ring, and wondered when his carefully constructed walls had started to crack—and whether he should be trying to rebuild them, or letting them fall.