What's this I've been hearing… about you marking someone?"
Ore froze where she stood, rainwater still dripping from her hair.
The silence stretched, only broken by the drumming of the rain against the roof. Ore shifted uneasily, her hands tightening into fists at her sides.
"Em… em…" she stammered, searching for words but finding none.
"Can't you talk?" her father barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the storm. His anger carried the weight of authority, of disappointment. "You've gone and acted on impulse again. Do you ever think before you move?"
Ore's throat tightened. She lowered her head, unable to meet his burning gaze. "Em… he's… he's already turned."
The words hung heavy between them.
Her father's expression froze. The fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something more fragile — fear. He sank onto the couch, his large frame suddenly seeming smaller, as though the news had stolen the strength from him.
"Oh my God," he muttered, his hand dragging down his face. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if searching for answers there. "Do you understand what you've done, Ore?"
The room felt colder. Ore stood silently, rainwater dripping onto the polished floor, her chest tightening with guilt.
He shot to his feet, voice booming louder than the thunder outside.
"Why? Tell me why! Those are the ways of the old — they bring nothing but destruction!"
Ore flinched, her heart pounding at his fury. She lifted her hands, trying to steady the storm raging in him. "Dad… it's ok. It's not as bad as you and the elders say."
Her words only stoked the fire. He groaned in raw anger, glaring at her as if she had spoken pure madness.
The commotion drew her mother from the hallway. She entered, worry etched on her face. "What happened here?"
The man's chest heaved as he turned toward her. "Your daughter marked a boy — and made Jide turn him!"
The woman froze, her hand rising to her mouth. "Why are you overreacting? It's normal for a wolf to mark their mate."
He slammed his fist against the arm of the couch, the sound sharp. "No! It's not the normal marking. It's the àdéùn eléjè."
The mother gasped. Her gaze snapped to Ore, who stood with her head bowed, shame written across her posture. Turning back to her husband, her voice trembled. "How did you find out?"
"Yeye Agba said," he muttered, fury still pulsing in his tone. "The ingredients for the spell were stolen by a younger wolf. They caught him. He spilled everything."
The woman exhaled, her strength leaving her. She lowered herself onto the couch beside him. "No one must find out about this. Ore, you will spend every free moment looking for a way to undo the spell."
Ore's head jerked up, eyes wide. "But Dad—"
"Shut up!" he roared, his eyes glowing a fierce, bright red. The sheer force of his aura pressed against her chest like a weight. "If you keep making irrational decisions, I'll expel you myself."
The words cut deeper than claws. He turned, storming off toward his room, the woman following reluctantly after one final, heavy look at their daughter.
Ore stood frozen for a long moment before dragging herself to her room. She sank onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
The rain outside masked the sound of her ragged breathing. For the first time, Ore wasn't sure if she had protected Tolu… or doomed him.
That night, every member of the Ajibade family lay restless, their minds heavy with unspoken fears.
--
Back at Tolu's place, the storm tapped gently against the window, a steady rhythm that filled the quiet house. He lay on his bed, a small smile tugging at his lips as Ore's face drifted into his thoughts.
Reaching for his phone, he typed slowly, savoring every word:
Can't wait to see you tomorrow. Love you.
He hit send, his heart thudding in his chest. A minute passed. The screen stayed dark.
"Guess she's already asleep," he murmured, setting the phone down with a little shrug. He pulled the blanket closer, closing his eyes, but sleep was stubborn.
Then, just as his mind began to drift, the phone buzzed. The screen lit up.
Ore's reply glowed softly in the dark: Love you too.
The smile on Tolu's face deepened. He pressed the phone to his chest, a quiet warmth spreading through him.
The storm raged on outside, but inside, he felt safe, wrapped in a peace he hadn't felt in a long time. With Ore's words still lingering in his heart, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted into slumber.
Wednesday rolled by quietly until lunch break, when the coach called the boys together on the field. His whistle cut the chatter short as they gathered in front of him.
Coach Oyewale adjusted his cap and looked them over with that serious expression everyone knew.
"Listen up. We've got a test coming. This Friday, we'll be playing a friendly match against Melody Heights. I don't need to remind you all—they're no small team. That means training after school every day until then. No excuses."
A murmur swept through the boys. Some groaned, others straightened up with determination.
Coach continued, "We'll be going with a 4-2-1-3 formation. These are my starting eleven: backline—Kunle, Musa, Dayo, and Chike. Defensive midfielders—Tolu and Bamidele. Attacking mid—Ebuka. Forward line—Segun, Femi, and Ayomide."
The boys clapped and whistled at the names. Tolu felt a rush of pride at hearing his name called, the position—defensive midfielder—rolling through his chest like thunder.
Leke nudged him with a wide grin. "Bro! You made the eleven!"
Tolu chuckled, though his heart was racing. "Yeah… guess all those laps finally paid off."
"Finally!" Leke said, practically bouncing. "You've been waiting for this since last year."
Tolu smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, once we're seniors, it'll be your turn. Coach won't be able to ignore you forever."
Leke grinned even wider, his eyes shining. "You better believe it. Melody Heights won't know what hit them."
Coach Oyewale blew the whistle again, snapping them out of their chatter. "Alright! Enough celebrating. Subs and starters—warm up together. Nobody slacks off, understood?"
"Yes, coach!" they chorused, voices rising in unison as they jogged back to the pitch.
The energy was different this time. For Tolu, it wasn't just another practice. It was the beginning of something.