I didn't sleep.
I just lay there staring at the ceiling, waiting for it—not hoping it wouldn't come, just waiting.
Because I already knew.
The bus driver incident was going to happen tonight.
"Yeah… no way I'm sleeping through that," I muttered, pushing myself up.
I was about to move—
when a sound cut through everything.
Not loud.
Not even fully audible.
But it wasn't something you heard with your ears.
It was something you felt.
A low, distant roar dragged through my chest instead of the air.
I froze.
Every muscle tightened at once.
"…there it is," I whispered.
It came again.
Closer.
Stronger.
It wasn't a threat.
It was a command.
Move.
My jaw clenched.
"Yeah… no," I muttered, forcing my breathing to stay steady. "Not happening like that."
But my body had already leaned forward.
One step.
Then another.
I stopped myself, digging my heel into the ground.
"Fuck that," I said under my breath, shaking my head.
I wasn't being dragged into this.
I am going there to protect him.
There's a difference.
I exhaled slowly, steadying myself.
"Alright… let's see what you want."
Then I started walking.
It didn't guide me like a voice.
It wasn't that obvious.
It was instinct.
A direction that felt right in a way I couldn't explain. Every time I hesitated, something in me adjusted, corrected, pushed me forward again.
The closer I got to the school, the stronger it became.
My heartbeat picked up—not from fear.
From anticipation.
That alone should've been a problem.
"Yeah… that's not concerning at all," I muttered.
The school came into view, empty and quiet under flickering lights. The bus lot sat behind it, still and untouched—for now.
I slowed near the fence, gripping the metal for a second before climbing over.
Easily.
Too easily.
Landing on the other side felt… light.
[Body Awareness +0.03]
I ignored it.
My focus was already ahead.
The bus.
It was parked alone.
Of course it was.
I stepped closer, my senses stretching out automatically. The air felt wrong—thick, tense, like something had already passed through and left a mark behind.
I stopped just outside the door.
This was it.
I knew what happened here.
Or at least—
I thought I did.
I reached for the door—
Then froze.
A sound.
Behind me.
Not loud. Not careless.
Intentional.
I turned slowly.
And saw him.
The Alpha stood just outside the edge of the light, barely visible—but I didn't need to see clearly to know.
I felt it.
That same presence.
Heavy. Dominant. Watching.
Like it already knew how this would end.
A slow grin pulled at my lips.
"So you came."
Silence.
I tilted my head slightly, stepping away from the bus instead of toward it.
"You're not here to just watch, are you?"
Still nothing.
But I felt it shift.
Closer.
Good.
That's what I wanted.
Then—
A second sound.
Different.
Panicked.
I turned.
The bus door rattled from the inside.
"Shit."
I moved instantly, yanking the door open and stepping inside.
The smell hit first.
Blood.
Fresh.
Too fresh.
"Hey!" I called out, moving down the aisle quickly. "Hey—where are you?"
A groan answered me.
Near the back.
I moved faster.
And then I saw him.
Garrison Myers.
On the floor, trying to pull himself back, his leg torn up, blood streaking across the aisle as he struggled.
"Holy shit—hey, hey, it's okay," I said, dropping beside him. "I got you."
He grabbed my arm immediately, grip tight and desperate.
"Help—please—help—"
"I am, I am," I said quickly, trying to steady him. "Just stay with me, okay?"
But even as I said it—
I felt it again.
Behind me.
Closer.
My grip tightened.
"Not happening," I muttered.
I shifted, pulling Myers slightly behind me as I stood.
"Get behind me."
He didn't move.
Couldn't.
So I adjusted.
Lowered my stance.
Waited.
The Alpha stepped inside.
Slow.
Unhurried.
The moment he entered, he growled.
It hit again.
Stronger.
Not sound.
Pressure.
Like something pushing down on me from the inside.
My chest tightened. My breathing hitched as my heartbeat spiked.
And then—
everything else started to fade.
The bus.
The driver.
Even my own thoughts—
blurring.
Simplifying.
Hunt.
The word didn't feel like mine.
My fingers curled slightly.
My stance shifted.
Lower. Sharper.
My eyes locked onto movement—
Not the Alpha.
The driver.
No.
No.
I clenched my jaw hard enough to hurt.
"Don't—" I muttered, shaking my head. "Not him. He's innocent."
The pressure pushed harder.
My heartbeat spiked.
Vision narrowing.
Instinct taking over.
Move. Kill.
I took a step—
Then stopped.
Forced it.
Every muscle resisting.
"Fuck you," I said, louder this time.
The words grounded me.
Not completely.
But enough.
I forced my focus back—
Not to the prey.
To him.
"You want me to lose it?" I said, breathing heavier now. "Not happening."
For a second—
just a second—
the pressure eased.
Not gone.
But resisted.
My stance shifted again.
Not feral anymore.
I stepped forward.
Not as something being controlled—
But as myself.
"Yeah," I muttered, eyes locked on him. "Come on then."
He moved.
Fast.
Too fast for a normal person—
But not for me.
Not anymore.
I saw it.
The shift in his shoulders.
The angle.
The intent.
I stepped in.
Not back.
His claw came down—
I raised my arm, deflecting it just enough for it to leave a graze instead of tearing through.
Pain shot up my arm.
I ignored it.
[Reaction Speed +0.05][Pain Resistance +0.03]
I pushed forward, shoving him back a step.
Not enough to hurt him.
But enough to interrupt.
"Not him," I said, steady. "You're not touching him."
He tilted his head slightly.
Almost curious.
Then he lunged again.
This time, I moved cleaner.
I shifted, turned, and cut off his angle before he could follow through.
His strike missed completely.
[Movement Efficiency +0.04][Balance +0.03]
I grabbed Myers again, dragging him back slightly.
"Stay down," I muttered.
The Alpha didn't rush this time.
He circled.
Watching.
Testing.
"Yeah, I get it," I said quietly. "You're trying to see what I'll do."
He moved again.
Faster.
I reacted—
but not perfectly.
His claws hit my chest.
Not deep.
But enough.
I staggered back a step, breath catching.
And then—
something shifted.
Not just pain.
Something else.
Heat.
Rising.
Spreading.
My vision sharpened.
Edges clearer.
Sound louder.
I stepped forward again.
This time—
I didn't just react.
I met him head-on.
Blocked.
Turned.
Pushed.
For a real second—
I held him there.
Then he pulled back.
And smiled.
The next strike came harder.
Faster.
This time, it landed clean, leaving a deeper gash before I could react.
I hated that.
He stepped back once.
Then twice.
Then he was gone—tearing through the rear of the bus like it was nothing.
Just like that.
Silence crashed back in.
My breathing slowed gradually.
I turned immediately.
"Myers—hey, stay with me."
He was still conscious.
Barely.
He was losing too much blood.
"Help… please…"
"I got you," I said, more firmly this time.
I focused.
Not instinct.
Not reaction.
Intent.
I grabbed him, concentrating on the contact—pulling, drawing the pain away as my veins darkened briefly under the skin.
And this time—
I meant it.
Later, sirens cut through the night.
Lights.
Voices.
I didn't stay.
Couldn't.
By the time they got there—
I was already gone.
The next morning, I didn't wait.
Didn't hesitate.
I found Stiles the second I stepped into school.
He barely had time to react before I grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.
"Dude—what—"
"I was there," I said, pointing toward the torn-up bus.
That shut him up instantly.
"…what?"
"The bus," I said. "Last night. I was there."
He stared at me, trying to process it.
"Scott… what the hell are you talking about?"
I held his gaze.
Didn't look away.
"I didn't do it."
A pause.
"…then who did?"
I exhaled slowly.
"The one who bit me," I said. "The Alpha."
Stiles blinked.
"…the what?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Because now—
this wasn't a guess anymore.
It was real.
And it had already made its move.
To be continued…