Scar staggered back, panting, blood matting the black fur along his side. His snarls turned ragged, breath hitching in fury.
"More…" he growled, cracking his neck, eyes wild. "Give me more!"
He lunged again, claws raised wide.
Sarah didn't flinch. She pivoted smoothly, grabbed his wrist mid-swing, and slammed her palm into his chest — sending him crashing into what remained of the kitchen wall.
Half the room was rubble now. Dust in the air. Furniture splintered. Moonlight cutting through the wreckage.
But upstairs, Jake still lay on his bed, headphones on, blissfully unaware.
Scar pushed himself up slowly, growling louder. "You're not even trying… SHIFT! Let me fight the storm, not this tame mutt!"
Sarah's eyes narrowed. Still half-shifted, she took a step forward. "You really wanna see the storm?" she said quietly.
Then — in a blink — she was behind him.
Scar barely had time to react before she grabbed the back of his neck and drove him face-first into the floor, claws pressed lightly against his throat.
"Keep pushing," she whispered, golden eyes glowing. "And I'll end you before your heart finishes its next beat."
Hunter finally stepped forward. "Enough!" he barked, voice sharp. "Sarah, stop. Scar—stand down."
Scar snarled, humiliated, but didn't move.
Sarah released him and stood, brushing dust from her clothes. She looked between them, then said, low and cold:
"Plenty have come hunting the White Storm… none lived to tell the tale. You're lucky I'm feeling merciful. Leave — and don't come back."
Hunter looked shaken.
Scar looked furious.
He snarled, blood dripping from his torn shoulder, eyes blazing with fury as he shifted back to his human form. Breath ragged, chest heaving, he wiped the corner of his mouth and spat to the side.
"We'll let you go… this time," he said, voice hoarse but laced with venom.
"But next time, Luna or not, I won't hold back."
Sarah didn't flinch. Her eyes, still glowing gold, bore into him.
"Just get out," she said coldly.
Scar locked eyes with her for a long, tense moment—then turned.
Hunter followed silently, casting one last look at Sarah ready to disappear into the night.
Scar stopped, hand on the doorframe. That twisted grin crept across his bruised face, blood still trickling down his jaw.
"NO," he growled, voice low and feral. "I'm going nowhere."
He turned slowly, cracking his neck, eyes glinting with something dark—something wild.
"You think this is over, White Storm?" he sneered. "It has just begun."
Hunter stepped forward, alarmed. "Scar, what're doing?"
Scar didn't turn. "Wait for it," he muttered, voice low and trembling with something unnatural. "You're not the storm you used to be, Luna. And soon… you'll regret it."
"What are you talking abou—"
Sarah froze.
Her pulse spiked. Her instincts screamed.
"No... no, no..." she whispered, stepping back.
Scar slowly turned, a wicked grin stretching across his face as his eyes darkened — not just with rage… but with something else.
Scar grinned wider, the veins across his face pulsing with a strange, dark glow — like something ancient was clawing beneath his skin.
"That's right," he whispered, voice crackling. "You felt that, didn't you?"
Sarah's eyes narrowed, her body tense, retreating a single step — not in fear, but calculation.
Above them:
"Yeah, I'm coming now!" Jake called out on the phone, rushing down the stairs — completely unaware he was running headfirst into the storm.
Sarah didn't take her eyes off Scar.
Jake reached the bottom of the stairs, yawning, still adjusting his headset around his neck.
Then he stopped dead.
His eyes widened.
The living room was wrecked — claw marks on the walls, furniture splintered, one side of the ceiling cracked like something had been thrown through it. Dust hung in the air like smoke.
"The hell…?" he muttered.
Then he saw them —
Sarah, standing tense, glowing eyes locked on two strangers. One of them shirtless, bruised, and bleeding… grinning like a lunatic.
Jake blinked. "Did I miss something?"
Scar turned to him slowly, that grin never fading. "You're just in time."