The morning after the full moon, Ravencrest felt different.
Quieter.
But not peaceful.
Lucas could still feel it the burn of that glowing mark on his chest, faint but alive, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
He stood at the cracked bathroom mirror, shirtless, staring at the faint circular sigil etched into his skin. It wasn't a scar; it shimmered faintly beneath the surface, threads of light curling outward like veins of molten silver.
He touched it, and his reflection flickered for a moment, wolf eyes, red and alive, staring back at him.
He yanked his hand away, breathing hard. The air around him hummed with energy, electric and restless.
Something had changed last night.
Something his blood recognized.
He could still hear the echo of that distant howl, the one that had answered his own. It wasn't human. And it wasn't far.
By the time he reached school, he'd forced himself to look normal again, hoodie up, headphones in, expression flat. Still, he could tell the difference immediately, the wolf inside wasn't sleeping anymore. It was awake, prowling, watching.
People moved out of his way without realizing it. The air around him carried weight subtle, instinctive. Predatory.
He slid into his usual seat in the back. Ivy wasn't there yet. He didn't expect her to be on time. New kids usually got lost in Ravencrest's maze of hallways, or stopped to gossip.
But when she finally walked in, she wasn't alone.
A man tall, dressed in dark civilian clothes stood outside the door, speaking briefly to the teacher. He wasn't a teacher, that much was obvious. His posture was military, his gaze sharp. Lucas didn't need to smell him to know what he was.
Hunter.
The moment Ivy noticed Lucas watching, she froze for half a second. It was barely noticeable, but Lucas caught it. Then she composed herself, nodded to the man, and slipped into her seat as if nothing had happened.
But her scent had changed. He could smell tension now. Fear. And underneath it… defiance.
After class, she caught up to him in the hall.
"You keep staring like that, people are gonna talk," she said lightly.
Lucas didn't stop walking. "You brought a hunter to school."
"Excuse me?"
What are you talking about?
"Your uncle, right? He's been watching the school all morning. You smell like his gun oil."
Her face paled slightly. "You're insane."
"Maybe," he said, "but I'm right."
She grabbed his arm before he could walk away, the contact burned not physically, but something deeper. His wolf surged at the touch, curious and angry, her pulse spiked. For a second, her fingers trembled before she let go.
"I don't know what you think you know," she said quietly, "but you should be careful throwing words like that around."
Lucas leaned closer, his voice low enough only she could hear. "I'm not the one who needs to be careful."
Then he walked away.
That evening, Ivy stood in the basement of her uncle's house, the scent of oil and iron thick in the air.
Weapons lined the walls, crossbows, silver knives, UV grenades. Her uncle, Marcus Cross, towered over the table in the center, cleaning a rifle, his expression was carved from stone.
"You saw him?" he asked without looking up.
"Yes," Ivy said. "He's… quiet. Keeps to himself."
Marcus's eyes flicked to her. "Did you feel anything?"
Ivy hesitated. She remembered that strange static in the air when she'd touched him. The way her pulse had jumped, how his eyes had seemed to catch the light like embers.
She swallowed. "No. Nothing."
Marcus grunted. "There's something wrong in this town. Three nights ago, a camper went missing in the forest. Found his body yesterday torn up like an animal got to him, but the wounds…" He stopped, jaw tightening. "They weren't natural. Too clean."
"Wolves?" Ivy asked.
"Not ordinary ones. A pack was wiped out nearby years ago, but something survived. I need you focused, Ivy. This isn't training anymore. If you sense anything strange, anyone strange, you tell me immediately. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Her uncle nodded, satisfied. "Good. You carry the Cross name. Don't forget what that means."
As he walked away, Ivy stared at her reflection in a silver blade.
Her heart felt heavy.
Because for the first time, she wasn't sure she wanted to be what her name meant.
Lucas didn't sleep that night,
The moon wasn't full anymore, but his body didn't care. His senses were sharper, his strength restless. Every noise in the forest called to him. He'd fought it for years the instinct to run, to hunt, to shift but the mark burned hotter now.
When he finally gave in, it wasn't dramatic. It was quiet.
He stepped out of his trailer, bare feet sinking into wet earth. The forest whispered to him leaves rustling, owls calling, something distant moving through the dark.
He ran,
Not human fast. Faster.
The world blurred past him, his breath coming steady, his muscles burning with release. When he stopped, he was deep in the woods, the moonlight filtering through the trees.
He could feel it again that pulse beneath his skin, the ancient rhythm.
A growl came from the shadows behind him.
He turned slowly.
A wolf massive, gray-furred, eyes glinting gold stepped out from between the trees. It wasn't a regular wolf. It stood tall, intelligent, cautious.
Lucas froze. The scent was familiar, old blood, Wild.
The creature growled low, circling, Lucas didn't back down. Something deep in his chest growled back, a resonance that vibrated through the ground.
The larger wolf paused, for a moment, its head tilted recognition. Then it vanished into the trees, fast and silent.
Lucas stood there, heart hammering, watching the spot where it disappeared.
He knew what that had been.
A rogue. One of the lost.
But more importantly… it had bowed before leaving.
His mark pulsed once, brighter.
He didn't know what it meant yet.
But something inside him whispered a truth he wasn't ready to believe:
The wolves were starting to notice him.
And they were waiting.