In my mind, I'm running through the same woods again. I know somewhere in the back of my mind I'm fast asleep in my bed but here I'm not. In here there are rules, and whether or not I follow those rules matters back in the real world.

I stop suddenly and look over my shoulder. I'm certain that I'm being followed. Without skipping a beat, I'm off again.

I finally make it to the cliff. When I get there, there's no blinking or glittery lights coming from any houses or street lights. The entire town is shrouded in darkness. No movement, no noise, no nothing. I'm alone up there on the cliff and below me there is no one.

"Jump." I hear a voice say from somewhere far off. I don't turn around. My dreams have always been confusing in this way because I know what I'm doing all of the time at the same I never have any idea. They make sense when they want to make sense. I'm in control, but the dream dictates how I react.

"Jump." I hear the voice says again. I edge my way to the tip of the cliff and look directly down. It's nothing but darkness down there, the side of the rocks fading into nothing but, nothing.

I'm not sure what this means so I continue to stand there and stare downward, scratching around my brain. There's a scream from down inside the darkness below me. It's so drawn-out and faint, I have to question if I'm imagining it, but then again this entire scenario is just a vivid portrait of my imagination. I listen closely again.

"Jump."

For a brief moment, I contemplate it, curiosity gripping hold of me and the question being raised: What happens if I do as it says? Everything here means something. Why am I standing on the edge of a cliff being told to jump off of it? I shake my head. I know better than that. It's a lot colder in my head than it actually was the night I was here and I'm only wearing the same thing I went to bed in, which is a pair of boxer shorts and an over-sized t-shirt. I should know better by now but then again, how am I supposed to dress for something that's essentially different and practically 100% unexpected every damn night? My feet don't feel like they are touching the ground. That's one of the signs I'm leaving, like I'm slowly floating away. I close my eyes and let the feeling wash over me. The back of my eyelids becomes twice as dark, the unprovoked feeling thick with dread lifting from my ribcage. I open my eyes again. I'm in my bed.

I breathe out heavily and scan the ceiling. Rolling on my side, I reach out for the leather bound notebook on the bedside table that Deucalion had given me the day right after I turned. In it was every one of my dreams since I had gotten here, documented and outlined, all of which had been metaphorical instances of future real life occurrences. This is what Kali meant when she said I was special. The outer-body experiences that I saw each night were some type of foreshadowing for the real world.

Once I had finished scribbling, I put the notebook back in its place and slid out from under the blankets. When I walked over to my vanity mirror the first thing I did was rub my eyes. The second was pick a small piece of bark out of my hair. That was the other thing; the dreams weren't really real, but they kind of were in a way. Whatever happens in my head is bound to happen realistically unless the course of fate is altered. Whatever happens to me personally actually happens in some way, whether it be exact to a 'T' or a spinoff of something metaphorical. So when I had been running in the woods last night, I was fast asleep in my bed but my body responded to that experience, leaving me with the remnants of tree in my hair from when I had been ducking under branches. I was still learning how to use what happened to me every night to my advantage, but luckily Deucalion seemed like he knew what was going on more so than I.

My door swung open.

"Hey wake- Oh good you're already awake."

"I told you she'd be awake already. I'm sure the excitement of her first day of school kept her up all night."

I rolled my eyes at the twins.

"Come in." I grumbled under my breath.

"Hurry up and get dressed." Aiden said, taking it upon himself to sit on my bed. Ethan looked me up and down. "You might want to take a shower first though. What did you do, go for a run in the woods this morning or something?"

I was over at my closet flipping through outfits. "More like last night." muttered.

"Ah," Aiden said and I could practically hear him smirking. "Did the fates tell you to run away so you wouldn't have to deal with the hardships of getting good grades and surviving the daily struggles of bullies?"

I turned around and squinted at him. "Your sarcasm. It's astounding, really."

He beamed. "Thanks. I pride myself on it."

"And if you're actually curious," I said turning back to my clothes, "I actually was running through the woods. So yes, I am going to shower and then I'll get changed."

The twins stood to leave me to it but on the way out Aiden stopped to comment, "Nothing too revealing, alright Kalel? We're trying to watch for patterns or weird activity in these other werewolves, not distract them with our bodies."

As I stopped and raised a brow I couldn't help but smirk. "Are you serious?"

"Try a turtleneck or something. Maybe a onesie." I rolled my eyes a final time before they were both finally out of my hair. Tugging a rose patterned dress and an over-sized white sweater off the hanger, I went over to grab undergarments from the bottom dresser drawer and made my way for the bathroom.

"Nervous?"

"No."

"You look nervous."

"Ethan, I'm not nervous."

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"What does that have anything to do with-"

"Will you guys be quiet for too seconds, it's too goddamn early for this right now." Aiden complained. "Just try and stick to the story, okay? Anyone asks, you're a family friend of ours who just moved to the area and we're keeping an eye out for you."

I almost laughed. "You serious?" I asked. "That's the most believable story you could come up with?"

"What? What's wrong with it?" he asked sounding slightly offended.

"You honestly believe the people you're trying to fool who so obviously know a lot more than most about you, cough cough werewolf, are going to believe you just have this family friend who just showed up three-fourths into the school year?"

Aiden shrugged. "Well it would've been weirder if I said you were our cousin and then I just show up with you on the back of my motorcycle."

I groaned, ignoring his usual subtle flirtatious comments. "Really? I'm going to have helmet hair."

"I'd say you could run but you'd just end up with more bark in your hair."

"Well if you ask me I'd be willing to bet that that Lydia Martin chick you're so hung up with would much rather you be family friends with some girl with bark in her hair than some girl on the back of your motorcycle."

Ethan snickered. Aiden's mouth was in a flat line as he threw the helmet at me over the table. "Come on, we should leave." He said.

When we got to the school, it was just like I had imagined it would be. Students busying around like ants trying to get to their classes and chatting it up with friends. I bit my lip as a dull pain appeared in my chest. Today was the first day I had left the house during the daylight and it was both a mixture of that and the sight of everyone else living completely normal, human lives, chatting with their friends and, well, having friends. Suddenly my own nerves hit me like a truck.

"You alright?" Ethan said, standing by his bike and taking off his helmet.

"Fine." I said. "Just… overwhelmed."

"I'll walk you down to guidance to get your schedule." He offered. "After that you have to get to your first class though."

"Alright." I said, swallowing. I could do this. I needed to do this to prove myself to my pack.

As soon as Ethan and I started walking in the opposite direction of Aiden along the sidewalk, I began scanning the rest of the cars. It didn't take long for me to make eye contact with a startled boy still sitting inside of his jeep. My eyebrows knotted together and I was caught off-guard by his current shocked facial expression. He was parked right up against the sidewalk and as Ethan and I walked by, this boy with short hair and wide eyes did nothing but stare at us with his mouth agape.

"Uh, Ethan…" I almost whispered. "Who is that and why is he staring at us?"

His eyes flickered up and no sooner did he roll them and continue walking. "That's just Stiles."

"Stilinski?" I asked, recognizing the name. "Isn't he one of the ones I'm supposed to be watching?" I stole another glance as the boy made no conscious effort to disguise the fact that he was blatantly staring at us.

"Honestly? I think Deucalion could care less about that one. I mean he knows, but he's only human. He's harmless. He's Scott's friend."

I stared back at Stiles as we continued past him. Finally, he shook his head and closed his mouth, blinking a few more times. I shot him a smile. That only made him look even more surprised than he had been.

Of course I was running late. Of course, of course, of course. What was the one thing Aiden had told me not to do and what the one thing I was currently doing? Being late of course. I had been instructed that I should do what I could not to draw any excess of attention to myself and here I was, running around theses unfamiliar hallways like a chicken with its goddamn head missing.

My eyes flashed down to the already wrinkled paper in my hand in yet another desperate attempt to try and figure out where the hell my first class was. I started jogging a little more down the hallway, studying the locker-lined walls. The classroom for my first class should be somewhere in this general area, but then again that's exactly what I had thought in the last three hallways I had just previously been in.

What I really wanted to know was why my economics class was being taught by someone who was labeled as Coach? Shouldn't he be teaching me P.E. or something? My mind was completely cleared and relief finally washed over me as soon as I saw the door I was looking for. I skidded up to it and without really thinking about high school etiquette or knocking or anything, I turned the knob and went into the classroom. I had only taken about half a step when every pair of eyes in the classroom including the teacher's landed on me and the room went silent. I looked around at everyone staring back at me. I imagine a deer in headlights must've been an understatement.

"Uh. Hello?" The man standing at the front of the room said.

"Hi." I said, sounding far more eager than I meant to. "I, uh, sorry I'm late. I'm new; I just got my schedule and I couldn't find the classro-"

"You're new and no one offered to show you to your classes?" Coach, I'm presuming, asked.

"Uh, well I mean I didn't really ask anyone so-"

"You make me sick, with your rude unwillingness to help lost souls." He barked, turning back to the rest of the students and shaking his head in a disappointed manner. I blinked. Did this really need to be as big of a deal as he was making it? "While you're all here safe in your seats poor-" He paused at the late realization that he had no idea what my name was. "While she was just left to roam the halls."

"Really, it's alright." I said. "It wasn't, as traumatizing as that…"

"Well alright-" He cut himself off again and blinked. "What's your name?"

"Kalel. Kalel Mahon."

I smiled internally at the sound of me using the fake last name Deucalion had given me. My eyes went back to the kids in the classroom. Most everyone was still staring at me. I shifted uneasily. A couple people whispered. One guy whistled and a handful of people snickered.

"GREENBERG." Coach bellowed. "Try and control your hormones in here, will you please, for the love of- Kalel, go take a seat anywhere. Just, not anywhere near Greenberg." He made a mention to me with his hand and I pressed my mouth hard into a feigned smile. Not wanting to have to be the center of attention any longer, I grabbed the first open seat I saw, flipping my shoulder bag onto the back of my chair and placing my notebook down in front of me.

Coach began talking about something I couldn't yet bring myself to focus on. I'll admit that my heart was racing a bit. I think that introduction was a tad more traumatizing than me not being able to find my classroom. I was sitting remotely close to the front of the room, which I knew was already a mistake because I could practically feel eyes drilling holes into the back of my skull. When Coach's back was turned, I slowly began turning my head around to look behind me. As soon as I did, it was like I had made some sort of signal and that same Stilinski kid that had been staring at me in the parking lot quickly lurked and leaned out into the isle around the person he was sitting behind and continued to do what he had been doing before, which was staringat me. My eyebrows furrowed and my eyes couldn't help but flicker to the guy in front of him. Unlike Stiles, this boy had curly hair and was wearing a plain grey t-shirt. He had a killer jawline and I hadn't yet gotten done analyzing his features to the full extent that I wanted to when his eyes snapped over to the boy on his right. I looked at him next. He was staring hard at me too. He had a bit of a crooked jawline and dark hair and was wearing a white shirt, I don't really know. I was too busy trying to figure out if the reason he was staring at me so hard was because he was reading my mind or some shit. Hell, I mean I only just found out werewolves were a thing not even a year ago, I couldn't really be surprised by anything else. I bit the inside of my lip in thought. What was their deal?

At the same time I was confronted with this unknown lingering feeling in the back of my head that I had finally given myself the time to acknowledge, Coach's voice was booming.

"McCall!" All of the boys and I all jumped in our chairs.

"You're not distracting the new girl, are you?" he asked bluntly. McCall cleared his throat. "No, Coach."

Wait. McCall. Scott McCall? That was him- that was the name of the one of the top guys on my list I was supposed to keep my eyes on. And instead here he was keeping an eye on me. "Good." Coach commented back. Suddenly his gaze jerked in the direction of the boy next to him with the jawline.

"How about you, Lahey?"

He also cleared his throat. "Uh, no sir."

Lahey. Isaac Lahey. That was another one of them.

"Alright then." Coach put both of his hands on his sides.

"It's fine, they weren't bothering me- I was just asking what chapter in the book we were on. Is all." I intervened, feeling like I had too. It seemed like the whole clearing your throat thing was becoming contagious because I was the one who did it next. Coach's eyes narrowed and he looked from me to the boys and then to me and then back to them.

"Fine." He said, finally dropping the subject. He turned and went back to teaching or whatever it was that he was doing at the board and I finally had time to organize my thoughts. Stilinski. McCall. Lahey. I knew what this feeling in my gut was. And I knew why they were staring at me. It had been obvious; I don't know why I hadn't realized it before. Minus the jeep kid, they were werewolves. And more importantly, they were the werewolves Deucalion had told me about.