CLARK POV
At the party, as people drank and danced, I sat there like a ghost in the corner—rigid, silent, clutching a plastic cup of something I hadn't dared to sip. The music throbbed through the walls, through my bones, but I wasn't feeling the beat. I was too busy watching shadows stretch and shrink across the floor, flickering with the disco lights.
Every time someone laughed too loud or stumbled near me, my heart jumped, convinced it was something else—someone else. A redhead with sharp teeth. A pale guy who didn't blink. A wolf in a hoodie.
I stared so long at the crowd that the bodies started to blur together. Like an ocean of smiles with empty eyes. Were they all human? Were they even real?
I pulled my hoodie tighter over my head and tried to shrink into the corner.
No one noticed me. They were too busy having the time of their lives. And that made it worse.
Was I going crazy?
