After practice, I met up with Scott and Stiles, and we made our way to his Jeep. Peering inside, I couldn't hold back my excitement. "I can't believe you were out there! I had no idea you had it in you!" My enthusiasm brightened the atmosphere, but when Scott casually replied, "I guess it just came to me," my excitement faded like a dimming light. Concern etched on his face, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," I quickly shot back, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. Scott shook his head and turned his attention back to the road.
"So, Luna," Stiles chimed in, eager to divert the topic, "tell me more about last night. I can't believe you found the other half of that body!" My heart raced at his words, and Scott turned to me, shock painted across his features. "What body?"
"Calm down," I replied smoothly. "Stiles and I sneaked out to look for a body. I just went along with it; it's no big deal."
"No big deal? That's huge! How could you keep that from me?" Scott exclaimed.
"What about you? You were in the woods too, in some creepy house," I countered.
"What house?" Stiles interjected, curiosity piqued.
"I've never seen it before. It looked abandoned," Scott admitted, glancing around as if the surroundings might provide answers.
"That's strange! And you don't remember where in the woods it was?" Stiles pressed.
"Not a clue," Scott and I replied in unison, prompting him to chuckle and shake his head. "You two still finish each other's sentences!"
I rolled my eyes. "So where are we heading now?"
"Back into the woods! Let's find that house," Stiles declared, his voice buzzing with excitement as we jumped out of the car and headed across the creek in the nature preserve.
As we walked, thoughts of Scott's sudden prowess in lacrosse buzzed in my mind like a persistent insect. It was as if a switch had flipped within him. He started talking about how now he could hear things he shouldn't be able to hear. I shot him an annoyed glare. "You were spying on me? Seriously?" I accused when he mentioned overhearing me singing.
"I didn't mean to! I just caught it," he defended, and I scoffed, turning my gaze back to the whispering trees.
Stiles interrupted, teasingly, "No way she was any good!"
"Oh, she was," Scott countered with a chuckle. Suddenly, Stiles spun me around playfully, but I pushed him away, exasperated.
"I can also smell things now," Scott added, observing our puzzled expressions.
"Smell things? Like what?" Stiles asked, intrigued.
Scott took a dramatic sniff of the air. "Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket." Stiles looked dumbfounded. "I don't even have mint mojito…" He checked his blazer and pulled out the gum, eyes wide with disbelief.
Unease flickered across my face as I glanced at Scott. "That's not creepy at all..."
"Do you think all this started with the bite?" Stiles asked, genuinely curious.
"What if it's some kind of infection? My body could be flooded with adrenaline or something before I go into shock," Scott suggested, my mind racing with possibilities.
"I doubt it's an infection," I replied confidently. "You'd be in pain, and your wound would be oozing."
Stiles smirked. "You know, I actually think I've heard of this—it's a specific kind of infection."
"Wait, are you serious?" Scott asked, his heart beginning to race.
"Yeah! It's called lycanthropy," Stiles stated, and panic surged through me.
"What the hell is lycanthropy?" Scott gasped, starting to hyperventilate.
"It only happens once a month," Stiles explained casually. "Once a month?" Scott echoed, confused.
"Yep. On the night of the full moon. Aroooo!" he howled, and I burst out laughing, the tension in the air momentarily lifting. Scott playfully shoved me.
"Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling," Stiles reminded me, looking genuinely puzzled. "Are you serious? You were bitten by a wolf?"
Scott ignored my question and refocused on Stiles. "There has to be something seriously wrong with me." "I know! You're a werewolf! Rawrrr!" he joked.
Scott shot him an irritated look.
"Okay, I'm just messing around," he said, throwing up his hands defensively. "But if you see me in shop class trying to melt every piece of silver I can find, it's because Friday is a full moon."
I stopped in my tracks, scanning our surroundings with growing concern. "I don't see any houses. Maybe it's not this way. Let's check over there. It might be to the left."
Stiles tapped my shoulder and Scott's, and we spotted someone up ahead—a guy with dark hair and a black leather jacket, lurking among the trees.
"What are you doing here?" he growled, his tone instantly thickening the tension around us.
Scott and Stiles froze, panic washing over them, but I stood my ground.
"This is private property," he asserted, his voice edged.
"Uh, sorry, man, we didn't know," Stiles stammered, taking a step back.
"Hey, asshole, maybe try being a little nicer next time," I shot back defiantly.
The guy glared at me. "Forget it," Scott interjected. "We were just looking for something, but… never mind." "Let's get out of here, guys," Stiles suggested, turning away. I glanced back, casting a challenging look at the guy, who matched my intensity, the air thick with unspoken tension. Scott froze, staring at the unfolding scene, his heart racing. "What the heck was that, Luna? Are you trying to get us into trouble?" His voice rose, laced with disbelief.
I crossed my arms, unfazed. "Are you kidding me, Scott? That guy was a total jerk. I'm not apologizing for standing up to him."
Scott groaned, running a hand through his hair. There was no time for this. "Forget it. Let's just get out of the woods—I've got work."
As we began to walk away, Stiles stopped abruptly, his expression shifting to one of awe and shock. "Dude, that was Derek Hale!"
Scott and I exchanged blank looks. "Who?" I asked.
Stiles stumbled over his words, trying to process a memory. "He's only a few years older than us. His family—they… they all died in a fire about ten years ago. Burned to death." His voice was heavy with emotion.
My eyes widened as I gasped. "Oh my god, that's awful."
A chill scuttled down my spine. "What's he doing back here?" Scott murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Night has fallen. I've just changed into my nightclothes, the warmth of a hot shower washing away some of the day's weight—though not all of it. Now I'm curled up in my window nook, wrapped in a blanket, writing in my journal while the quiet hum of night settles around me.
But my thoughts are restless.
I can't stop thinking about what Stiles said earlier—about Scott. The weird behavior, the strange strength, the heightened senses. He was dead serious. He thinks Scott might be… something else.
Werewolves. It sounds insane. Fiction. But the way Stiles said it—like it wasn't a joke—has been stuck in my head ever since. I mean, werewolves don't exist. Do they?
I let out a breath and glance outside. The stars are scattered across the sky like glitter, and the moon is almost full—bright enough to light the trees beyond the backyard. I stare at the night, letting the silence fill me.
Then I see them.
Two glowing red eyes, locked on me from the darkness just beyond the tree line.
My breath catches in my throat.
I lean in, trying to make out the shape behind them, but it's like the eyes are suspended in the shadows—unblinking, unnatural. Watching. Waiting.
And then my phone rings, piercing the moment like a scream.
I jump, heart pounding, and fumble for it. The screen reads Scott.
"Hi!" I say a little too quickly, trying to sound normal.
"You're not gonna believe this," Scott says, his voice buzzing with excitement. "I got a date—with Allison."
I smile despite the adrenaline still rushing through me. "Oh my gosh, Scott! That's awesome! Where are you guys going?"
"To Lydia's party."
I groan. "Lydia's party? Wow, now that's gonna be one hell of a date," I say, lacing my voice with sarcasm.
"Stop," he laughs.
"I'm just teasing," I say, softening. "Honestly, I think it'll be good for you."
"Yeah… I think so too," he says, quieter now. "Anyway, I'll be home soon."
"Okay. Night," I say, and hang up.
I turn back toward the window.
The red eyes are gone.
But the unease lingers. I stare at the trees, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Nothing.
Maybe I imagined it. Maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me. But something about those eyes didn't feel… right. They weren't animal. They weren't human either.
I force a laugh, trying to shake it off, and climb into bed. I lay down, pulling the covers up tightly, my eyes flickering toward the window one last time.
No animals have red eyes.
Right?
