Friday finally came, the day of the much-anticipated match. The air around the school field felt different, heavy with expectation.
The boys, dressed in their crisp blue-and-white kits, gathered by the school bus with their bags slung over their shoulders. Leke jogged up to Tolu, practically buzzing with excitement.
"Bro, today is the day. Melody Heights won't know what hit them."
Tolu smiled, adjusting his shin guards inside his socks. "Let's just stay sharp and play our game. No unnecessary mistakes."
Coach Oyewale's voice boomed across the parking lot.
"Alright, boys, move it! Bus is leaving in five!"
They piled in, laughter and nervous chatter filling the vehicle. Some leaned against the windows with headphones in, drowning in their music. Others joked loudly, trying to hide their nerves.
Tolu sat by the window, his bag tucked under his seat. As the bus rumbled to life and pulled out of the school gates, he stared outside, his reflection looking back at him. His chest felt tight—not from fear, but from anticipation.
Leke leaned over from the seat behind him. "Defensive midfielder, starting eleven, first big match. You ready?"
Tolu exhaled, then smirked. "Born ready."
The ride was long enough for the joking to die down into silence. When the bus finally pulled into Melody Heights' campus, the boys craned their necks to take in the rival school. The pitch was bigger, newer, and the bleachers already filled with Melody Heights' students chanting and waving banners.
"Wow," one of the boys muttered under his breath. "They came prepared."
Coach stood as the bus hissed to a stop. He turned, scanning his players with sharp eyes.
"Listen carefully. Ignore the noise, ignore the crowd. Play your football, the way we've trained. Trust each other. Fight for every ball. If you give me everything out there, win or lose, I'll be proud."
The boys nodded, some whispering "Yes, coach," others just tightening their laces or bouncing their knees.
The bus doors opened. The roar of Melody Heights' supporters poured in instantly. The boys filed out, shoulders squared, trying to look braver than they felt.
Tolu inhaled deeply, feeling the turf under his boots as they marched toward the locker room. His first real match had begun, and he could already feel his blood pounding.
The referee's whistle pierced the air, and the match roared on.
By the fifteenth minute, Melody Heights pressed hard, their forwards cutting through the midfield with blistering speed. One tall forward in particular seemed to glide across the grass, every touch sharp, every feint executed with uncanny precision.
The ball rolled into Tolu's zone. The forward came at him full force, feet dancing over the ball, body swerving to throw him off balance. Tolu braced himself, muscles tightening. His instincts sharpened, his reflexes kicking in before he even thought.
The forward flicked the ball left. Tolu's leg shot out—snap!—he stripped it clean, pivoting on his heel to shield before sending a crisp pass forward.
Cheers broke out from the St. James bench, but Tolu barely heard them. He could feel it—the forward's eyes burning into him.
The boy hadn't said a word, but his stare was unsettling, too steady, too intense.
Minutes later, the same forward charged again, the ball glued to his feet. He moved faster this time, sharper, like lightning bottled in human form. But Tolu was ready. His body moved almost on its own, cutting the forward off before he could even attempt a trick. His boot came down on the ball, clean and firm, and he powered it out of danger.
The forward stumbled, caught himself, then looked up at Tolu again.
That was when it happened.
For the briefest second, his eyes shimmered—not brown, not human, but a bright glowing blue.
Tolu froze. His breath hitched. He knew what he'd just seen.
The forward blinked, and his eyes returned to normal as if nothing had happened. He straightened, jaw tight, frustration flickering in his expression. And then… a low growl slipped past his lips, just loud enough for Tolu to hear.
Tolu's chest tightened. He's like me.
The whistle blew again, pulling him back to reality. He shook his head, forcing his feet to move, forcing himself back into position.
But his mind wouldn't let it go.
Another wolf… playing right in front of him.
Tolu jogged back into his zone, but his mind wasn't on the ball anymore. His heart pounded heavier than the match should've caused.
Another wolf… here, of all places.
He cast a quick glance across the pitch. The forward was jogging lightly, expression unreadable, but Tolu couldn't shake the memory of those glowing blue eyes—or the faint growl that had curled out of his throat.
His stomach twisted. Is he an ally… or a foe?
The thought dug deeper with every second that passed. If the boy belonged to a rival pack, then this wasn't just a school match anymore. It was surveillance. Maybe even a warning.
Tolu's jaw tightened. Could it be they already know about me? He thought back to the way the forward had looked at him—like he recognized something, like he was testing him. The possibility sent a chill through his chest. If his cover was blown, then it was only a matter of time before word spread.
And if the boy was indeed an enemy, then one truth was clear:
Sooner or later… they would clash.
Tolu forced his attention back to the game, knees bent, eyes sharp on the ball as it rolled back toward midfield. But now every sound, every movement from that forward rang louder in his ears. Not just a rival on the pitch. A potential rival in blood.
Tolu jogged back into his zone, but his mind wasn't on the ball anymore. His heart pounded heavier than the match should've caused.
Another wolf… here, of all places.
He cast a quick glance across the pitch. The forward was jogging lightly, expression unreadable, but Tolu couldn't shake the memory of those glowing blue eyes—or the faint growl that had curled out of his throat.
His stomach twisted. Is he an ally… or a foe?
The thought dug deeper with every second that passed. If the boy belonged to a rival pack, then this wasn't just a school match anymore. It was surveillance. Maybe even a warning.
Tolu's jaw tightened. Could it be they already know about me? He thought back to the way the forward had looked at him—like he recognized something, like he was testing him. The possibility sent a chill through his chest. If his cover was blown, then it was only a matter of time before word spread.
And if the boy was indeed an enemy, then one truth was clear:
Sooner or later… they would clash.
Tolu forced his attention back to the game, knees bent, eyes sharp on the ball as it rolled back toward midfield. But now every sound, every movement from that forward rang louder in his ears. Not just a rival on the pitch. A potential rival in blood.
---
In a shadowed mansion on the far edge of Melody Heights, a single lamp cast a dim glow over a polished oak table.
A man sat in a high-backed chair, posture sharp and commanding, his fingers drumming slowly against the armrest. Before him, another man stood, head bowed respectfully.
"One of our scouts saw a newborn today," the man standing reported.
The seated man's eyes narrowed. "Is he sure?"
"Yes, sir," came the reply. "He said the boy was right in front of him… and he caught his scent. No mistake."
For a moment, silence filled the room, broken only by the steady patter of rain against the tall windows. Then, slowly, the man sitting leaned back, a thin smile spreading across his face.
"So… Jide is desperate enough to start turning newborns." His voice was low, but laced with satisfaction. "How predictable."
He tapped his finger once more against the chair, then stilled. "Tell the scout to locate this newborn. Watch him. And when the time is right…" His smile widened, revealing the faint glint of sharp canines. "…give him a friendly welcome into our world."
"Yes, sir," the man replied, bowing again before slipping out of the room.
The man in the chair turned his gaze toward the rain-slicked glass, eyes glinting faintly blue in the dim light. "Let's see what kind of wolf Jide's little cub is."