"Hey! You're gonna drown out there!"
Skye stopped dead in her tracks, water splashing up her soaked jeans. The voice wasn't one she expected to hear—low, teasing, impossible to ignore. She turned sharply toward the sound.
Leaning casually against a sleek black sports car was Derek Clawson. His hair was plastered to his head from the rain, but his eyes—those eyes—caught the faintest red glow in the storm's flickering light.
"Not everyone needs a shiny car to survive a drizzle," Skye called back, gripping the soggy folder of her mythology notes. The pages stuck together, the ink bleeding into a messy blur.
Derek pushed off the car, walking toward her with a slow confidence that made her heart skip. "I like that. Fiery. Always this friendly?" sarcastically
She folded her arms, water dripping from her hoodie. "Only with annoying guys."
He smirked, voice dropping just enough to carry over the rain. "I've seen you in mythology class. You write like the world's ending."
Skye's fingers clenched the wet folder. "What's your deal? You stalk everyone or just me?"
"Only the ones who stand out."
She turned away, the cold rain running down her neck. "Save it. I don't fall for wolf-in-leather types."
"Wolf?" His voice was amused. "Interesting choice."
The memory of her mother's voice flickered in her mind, soft and casual.
"Your dad and I are heading to the forest, little pie. Back soon."
Skye hardly had time to process before a sharp bump caught her off guard—the car's bumper clipped her leg. The impact spun her sideways, and she stumbled, papers flying from her folder like feathers caught in the wind.
"Watch out!" Derek's voice was urgent as he reached for her.
She hit the ground hard, rain pounding her back. Her palms stung from the rough concrete beneath.
Derek was already at her side, eyes glowing brighter now—a deep red that made her pulse spike. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw claws flexing at his fingertips before they vanished.
"You okay?" His voice cut through the storm.
Skye forced herself up, shaking water from her hair. "I'm fine. Just try not to run over people next time."
His jaw tightened. Most girls blushed or giggled when Derek looked at them. Not her. She snapped back. That made her… interesting.
He crouched beside her, glancing at the ruined notes scattered on the ground. "Let me fix this. I'll replace what you lost."
She held up a crumpled, soaked essay. "Keep your guilt money."
Their hands reached for the same page—a sketch of a golden wolf. Their fingers brushed.
A sudden jolt shot through her arm. Not pain. Not electric. Something warmer, alive.
Derek froze, eyes wide, mirroring the shock.
"Derek! What's taking so long?" The sharp voice cut through the moment.
Joanna Linfield appeared, heels clicking sharply against the wet pavement, rain sliding off her perfect hair.
Her gaze landed on Skye, smirk deepening. "Oh, so this is what's keeping you."
"Back off, Joanna," Derek muttered, not taking his eyes off Skye.
Skye stood, gathering her ruined papers, the strange warmth pulsing beneath her skin. "I'm fine. Next time, try headlights."
She turned away.
"Wait." Derek's voice lowered, commanding. Even the rain seemed to hold its breath.
She stopped.
"What's your name?" he asked.
For a second, she considered lying. Then she didn't.
"Skye."
Before he could say more, she was gone, running into the storm.
Derek stood, rain pouring over him, her name echoing in his mind—Skye. Wild, unpredictable, untouchable.
Joanna folded her arms, lips curling in disdain. "Forget her. She's nobody. A broke scholarship girl who doesn't know her place."
Derek barely heard her. The energy between him and Skye—the spark—wasn't human. It was wolf magic. Ancient. Rare.
A low growl built in his chest, swallowed by thunder.
Somewhere beyond the university walls, a wolf howled.
Skye slammed the dorm door behind her, water dripping from her soaked clothes. She leaned against it, chest heaving.
Her reflection caught her eye—eyes wide, pale, and faintly glowing gold where blue should have been.
She peeled off her hoodie, damp hair plastered to her neck, and tossed it aside.
Her ruined notes lay on the desk. The golden wolf sketch shimmered faintly, the ink spreading like it was alive.
Her phone buzzed.
A text from Mom: Made it to the forest. All good, little pie. Love you.
Skye's throat tightened. She wanted to ask what was really going on—but the words wouldn't come.
Instead, she sat on the bed, staring out the window as thunder rolled and lightning tore the sky.
Somewhere distant, a wolf howled.
Her eyes pulsed again, stronger this time.
"This isn't the end," she whispered.
The wind howled louder, no longer just weather but a call.
And deep inside, Skye knew—
This was only the beginning.
The next morning, Skye shoved her soggy folder into her backpack, trying not to think about the ruined pages inside.
She spotted Derek leaning against the same black car outside the library, arms crossed, watching her.
She hesitated but then marched over.
"You never said thanks," she said, folding her arms.
He grinned. "You didn't fall. I'm calling that even."
She raised an eyebrow. "Smooth."
He shrugged. "I'm better at driving than talking."
Skye smirked. "Clearly."
He pushed off the car, falling into step beside her.
"You're not like the others," he said, voice low.
She glanced at him. "Others?"
"The usual crowd. They don't make you nervous."
Skye's chest tightened, but she looked away.
"Why do you care?"
He stopped, turning to face her.
"Because I don't forget sparks like that."
Skye blinked. "Sparks?"
Derek's eyes flickered red again. "You felt it too."
She swallowed. "Yeah."
They walked in silence for a moment, rain picking up again.
"Why the secrecy?" Skye finally asked.
He hesitated. "Because some truths aren't easy to explain."
She met his gaze. "Try me."
He exhaled, running a hand through his wet hair.
"I'm… part of something bigger. A pack. Werewolves."
Skye's heart pounded. "I know."
He blinked, surprised.
"I'm caught between worlds," she said quietly. "Human enough to belong nowhere, strange enough to be something else."
He nodded slowly. "Same."
For the first time, the storm didn't feel so heavy.
Days passed, and Skye found herself drawn into a world she thought she'd left behind.
Derek showed her the edges—the unspoken rules, the hidden dangers.
Joanna watched from the sidelines, her disdain sharp but distant.
One afternoon, Derek tossed a small, rough stone toward her.
"Catch."
Skye caught it, surprised.
"Not bad," he said.
She smiled, a real one this time.
"Maybe I'm not as broke as you think."
He laughed. "Or maybe you're just good at surprising people."
Their hands brushed again, and the spark returned, gentle but undeniable.
Skye looked away, cheeks warm.
"Don't make me regret this," Derek teased.
She grinned. "Too late."
That night, Skye sat by her window, the golden glow in her eyes pulsing steadily.
Her phone buzzed again.
A message from her mom: Be careful out there.
Skye's fingers tightened around the phone.
She whispered to the storm outside, "I'm ready."
A wolf howled in the distance.
And this time, she didn't flinch.