Chapter Ten – The Mark of Shadows
I didn't sleep. Couldn't.
The letter sat on the table like a curse, its red ink pulsing in my mind every time I closed my eyes. Selena had finally drifted off on the couch, curled under a blanket, breathing slow, like a cat even when she wasn't one. But me? My veins were buzzing like I'd swallowed electricity.
Marked.
Who were they? Hunters? Corporates? Some other thing Selena hadn't told me about yet?
By dawn, I still had no answers. Just exhaustion. I dragged myself to school anyway—because even fugitives apparently had math tests.
The day was wrong from the start.
Marissa intercepted me at the gates, looping her arm through mine as if we'd been best friends since birth.
"You never told us you had someone like her living with you," she purred, nails painted black, smile razor-sharp.
"She's not—" I began, but she cut me off.
"You know, people are saying she's not even… human. That she showed up out of nowhere. That she's dangerous."
My blood froze.
She leaned close, her breath warm on my ear. "If you ever need… a normal girlfriend, I'm available."
Her words were sugar, but her eyes? Calculating. Like she knew something.
And behind her, I noticed two men in plain clothes watching me from across the street. Not students. Not parents. Wrong.
My chest tightened.
Selena had been right.
They'd come already.
Work that evening wasn't better. The diner was crowded, loud, and every time the doorbell rang, my heart jumped. The envelope had burned me too deep.
Halfway through my shift, a guy at the counter—suit too clean, watch too expensive—slid a folded napkin onto my tray.
Inside, in block letters:
"RUN."
I looked up. He was gone.
The bell jingled again. Outside, across the street, headlights glowed. A van. Black. Windows tinted.
Not again.
I sprinted home after work.
Selena was already standing at the window, hair lit by moonlight, eyes glowing faint like twin candles. "They've started the hunt," she said, without turning.
"How do you—"
"Because I smell them." Her voice was sharp. Angry. Scared. "The mercenaries, the hounds, the ones who sell blood for money. They'll tear through this city looking for us. Looking for you."
I swallowed hard. "Why me? I'm nothing—"
"You're everything," she cut in, stepping closer. Her hand pressed flat to my chest, where my heart hammered like a drum. "They know what you mean to me. That makes you leverage."
I stared at her. "So… what are you saying?"
"I'm saying," she whispered, "you can't go back to being ordinary anymore. You're mine now. And that means you're theirs too."
Her words should've terrified me.
Instead, they felt like a vow.
We didn't have time to argue.
The window shattered.
A flash-bang screamed.
The apartment exploded into white light.
I hit the floor, ears ringing. Selena roared—a sound too animal to be human—and when I blinked the light away, she was half-shifted: claws ripping through her hands, eyes blazing gold, teeth bared.
Corporate mercs stormed the room, helmets glinting, rifles raised.
"Target located!" one barked. "Both targets—alive!"
Both. Me too.
Selena lunged, a blur of claws and fury, tearing into the first soldier before he could fire. Blood sprayed. Another swung his rifle toward me—
And then I felt it.
Something inside me.
A pull. A burn. Like a thread snapping in my veins.
For a moment, I thought it was fear. But when the bullet flew—my hand moved faster than thought. I caught it.
The merc's eyes widened in horror. Mine too.
"What the hell—" I whispered.
Selena's gaze snapped to me, feral and sharp. "Ethan," she hissed. "What did you just do?"
I didn't have an answer.
The war for my life had just twisted into something else. Something bigger.
Bullets screamed. Selena's claws sang back.
The mercs moved like machines, their boots pounding in perfect rhythm, rifles flashing white-hot. She ripped through them with impossible speed, but there were too many—shadows piling through the broken window, smoke grenades spilling venom across the room.
"Ethan, MOVE!" she roared.
I staggered to my feet, lungs clawing for air. Another merc raised his rifle at me.
Instinct lit up in my veins. My hand snapped forward. The air cracked.
The bullet stopped.
Hung there.
Suspended an inch from my face.
I gasped. It dropped, harmless, to the floor.
The merc stared, frozen. Wrong move. Selena's claws tore him open before he could scream.
"OUTSIDE!" she shouted, grabbing my wrist. Her grip was iron, desperate. "Now!"
We burst into the night.
The alley was alive with chaos. Another van screeched up, headlights cutting through the smoke. Doors slammed open—mercenaries spilling out like an army of shadows.
Selena shoved me behind her. Her claws glinted wet. "Stay down."
"No—" I croaked. My body trembled, but the thing inside me pulsed again, demanding release. "I can fight—"
"You don't even know what you are yet," she snarled, eyes flashing. "And I can't lose you before I figure it out."
Then she launched herself into them.
The night exploded. Screams, gunfire, sparks. Selena was fury incarnate, a storm of claws, tail whipping like a blade. But even she couldn't keep this pace—merc after merc came at her, their rifles humming with strange blue charges, weapons not built for ordinary monsters. Weapons built for her.
I couldn't watch her break.
Not again.
So I stood.
And the world shifted.
The first merc aimed at me. Time slowed. The bullet shimmered in the air before it left the barrel. I reached forward, fingers brushing reality—and suddenly the shot veered, slamming into another soldier instead.
"What the hell," I breathed, heart hammering. "I'm bending it—"
Selena froze mid-slash, her golden eyes locking on me. Her face was half awe, half fear.
"Ethan," she hissed, "you're not just human."
We ran. Somehow.
By the time the sirens cut through the night, the street was painted in broken bodies and burning vans. Selena half-dragged me through back alleys until the city swallowed us. My lungs burned like fire, legs jelly, but we didn't stop until we found refuge in an abandoned train depot.
Only then did the quiet return.
Her claws retracted, her body trembling as she slumped against a rusted pillar. Blood streaked her face, some hers, most not. She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time.
"What are you?" she whispered.
I swallowed hard. My hands were still shaking. Still tingling from the impossible things they'd just done. "I—I don't know."
Her expression darkened. "They marked you. Not me. You."
The words sank into me like ice.
The letter. The warning. The ambush.
This hadn't been just about her.
Selena pushed herself closer, her face inches from mine, her breath warm, trembling. "You think you're just some boy with part-time jobs and bad grades? Ethan… you caught a bullet. You bent it. You shouldn't even be alive."
Her eyes softened suddenly, breaking the storm. "And still… I almost lost you tonight. And I can't—" Her voice cracked. "I can't lose you."
Her forehead pressed against mine. For a moment, the war outside didn't exist. Just us, breathless and broken, clinging to something neither of us understood.
And that's when I realized:
The real monsters weren't just the ones hunting us.
They were the truths we hadn't uncovered yet.
Chapter Eleven – The Hunter's Net
We didn't sleep.
Couldn't.
The depot was cold, reeking of rust and oil, but every creak in the shadows set our nerves on fire. Selena paced like a caged lioness, claws half-extended, golden eyes refusing to dim. I sat against the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, trying not to replay the bullet I'd bent in midair.
She wouldn't look at me. Not fully. Just flickers, like she was scared that staring too long would confirm something she wasn't ready to admit.
When dawn finally bled through the shattered windows, we were already moving again.
The city was awake with sirens and whispers. Newsfeeds blared from screens outside shops: "Massive Gang Clash in Lower Stormvale – Dozens Dead." The truth scrubbed clean. No monsters. No mercs. Just another story no one would question.
But the hunters were still out there.
Selena pulled me through a maze of alleys, hood low, movements sharp. She walked like she'd lived in shadows forever. I just tried to keep up, backpack bouncing on my shoulders, still aching from last night's bruises.
At one point, she froze. Raised her nose.
"Drones," she whispered.
I followed her gaze. High above, two black machines hovered like vultures. Their lenses gleamed, red and hungry.
I swallowed. "They're tracking us."
Her hand brushed mine, fingers curling tight. "Then we don't stop."
By the time the sun hit its peak, I was late. Late for the one thing in life I couldn't afford to mess up.
School.
Selena stopped dead in the alley as I tugged at her hand. "You're serious? After what just happened, you still want to sit in a desk and pretend to be normal?"
"I don't want to," I admitted, breathless, "but I have to. I'm on scholarship. If I blow attendance—if I fail—I lose everything. Rent, bills, even this mess of a life. I can't…" I trailed off, looking at her. "I can't just disappear."
She stared at me for a long moment, then sighed, sharp and frustrated. "Humans and your cages."
But she followed me anyway.
Walking into class was hell.
Everyone turned. Everyone stared. My shirt collar barely hid the bruise crawling up my neck. My limp wasn't subtle. And walking beside me—no, floating beside me like a goddess—was Selena in her human form.
The boys gawked. The girls whispered.
"Who is she?"
"Since when does Ethan hang out with… her?"
"She's gorgeous. Is she—his girlfriend?"
The word sliced through the air like a blade.
Selena didn't flinch. She just smirked and slid into the empty seat beside mine, crossing her legs like she owned the room. Her hand brushed my desk, close enough that anyone watching would think we were—well, more than we were.
I heard it before I saw it. The hiss of jealousy.
"Of course he would get someone like that. Must be pity."
"No way. Look at her. She's out of his league."
My ears burned. I wanted to sink through the floor.
But then Selena leaned closer, lips near my ear. Her voice was soft, teasing, but sharp enough to cut glass:
"Do they hate you more now that you're not invisible?"
I clenched my fists under the desk. "You're enjoying this way too much."
She only smiled. And that smile made the room feel like it belonged to her.
But as the day dragged on, something else happened.
I caught glimpses. Men in plain suits outside the school gates. A van parked too long across the street. A flicker of red from the corner of a hallway security cam.
The hunters weren't done.
And now they were watching me in the one place I couldn't run.
The day didn't ease. It only sharpened.
Every tick of the clock in class was a knife against my nerves. I should've been listening to formulas, dates, the droning rhythm of a history lecture—but all I could think about was the heat of Selena's presence beside me, and the fact that every pair of eyes in that room had turned me into a story.
A rumor.
By lunch, it had already evolved.
"Ethan's got a secret girlfriend."
"She's foreign—look at her eyes."
"No, she's a model. I saw her face somewhere before."
"He doesn't deserve her."
"Bet she's just using him."
Selena caught every word. I could tell from the twitch of her lips, the flick of her golden gaze that dared anyone to speak louder. But she didn't rise to it—she thrived on it. Like this was a game only she knew the rules to.
Then came the bold one.
Her name was Liora—track star, captain of something, hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She approached me at my locker, smile dazzling, confidence dripping like perfume.
"Ethan," she said smoothly, ignoring Selena who leaned against the wall like a shadow carved from glass. "You've been hiding your social life. I never knew you… dated."
"I don't—" I started, throat tightening.
Selena's eyes narrowed.
Liora tilted her head. "Well, if you're free, maybe you and I could study together? I could use help in physics. Or, you know…" her voice dipped suggestively, "something less boring."
The hallway went silent. Watching. Listening.
Selena stepped forward. Not with claws. Not with violence. Just a single, velvet line:
"He's taken."
The words weren't loud. But they cut deep, echoing louder than a shout. Liora blinked, stunned for half a second before recovering, smirking, and walking away with a toss of her hair.
The whispers tripled.
And me? My face burned so hot I thought I'd combust on the spot.
Selena leaned in close enough that only I could hear.
"See? Humans smell weakness. They circle you when they think you're prey. Do you want me to scare them off?"
"Please don't," I muttered.
She grinned, satisfied. "Then let them keep guessing."
But beneath the high school storm, something darker pressed in.
It started small. A substitute teacher introduced in math—sharp suit, clipped voice, eyes that never smiled. He asked too many questions about student addresses. His watch flickered red when the lights dimmed.
Then I noticed the janitor who never seemed to clean, only linger in corners where the cameras didn't quite reach.
And the van. Always the van. Black, unmarked, parked across from the gates no matter what time of day I looked.
The hunters weren't just circling anymore.
They were inside.
Selena noticed too. Her shoulders tightened every time a stranger walked too close. Her gaze darted to shadows the way an animal sniffs for predators. She was restless in her borrowed skin, every instinct begging her to shift, to fight.
But she didn't. Not here. Not yet.
"You're walking into a trap every time you step through those doors," she whispered one afternoon as we sat under the bleachers, pretending to eat lunch. "You think school keeps you safe. But walls don't stop hunters. They make killing fields."
I stared at my sandwich like it could anchor me to normalcy. "I can't just stop showing up."
Her hand brushed mine. "Then you'll need to decide how much of yourself you want to hide. And how much of me you want them to see."
That night, I couldn't shake it. The image of mercs in teacher's clothing. The feeling of invisible eyes crawling across my skin. The taste of jealousy and tension still clinging from earlier in the day.
When midnight came, so did the twist.
I woke to tapping. Soft, rhythmic. From my window.
Selena was already alert, perched upright like she'd never slept. She hissed low in her throat.
I moved to the curtains, heart pounding. Drew them aside.
And froze.
A man stood across the street, under the orange glow of the lamp. He wore a suit, tie neat, posture calm. But his eyes—gleaming red lenses—fixed directly on my window.
In his hand, he held something small. Not a weapon. Not quite.
A phone.
He raised it slowly, screen facing me.
On it glowed a single word:
RUN.
Chapter Twelve – Warnings in the Dark
The word burned itself into my eyelids even after the screen vanished.
RUN.
Then the man was gone. He didn't fade or stroll away—he simply wasn't there anymore, as though the streetlight had blinked and swallowed him whole.
I shut the curtains with a snap, chest heaving. Selena was already standing by the door, golden eyes feral in the dark.
"Who was it?" Her voice was low, edged with something that belonged in the wild, not in my bedroom.
I swallowed hard. "A man. Watching. He… he showed me a message. Told me to run."
She tilted her head, studying me, then paced like a caged predator. "A hunter warning you? Impossible. They don't give mercy. Unless…" She stopped, sharp as a blade. "…unless he wasn't one of them."
My skin prickled. "Then who?"
She shook her head. "Every enemy has rivals. Hunters aren't united. Some kill for pay, others for sport, others because they think it's holy. You may have seen one who doesn't like the others circling us."
Her tone was too calm, too cold, like this was all just another line in a long story she already knew the ending to.
"And you?" I asked. "Do you think it's a warning, or a trap?"
Selena's gaze softened—just a little—as she moved closer. "I think you're still too human to see the difference. And too human to survive if you don't learn."
Her fingers brushed my wrist. Just enough pressure to remind me she was real, alive, standing there between me and everything outside. "Stay awake tonight," she whispered. "Dreams are the first thing they use to break you."
The night stretched, heavy and suffocating. I didn't dream. Not once. Selena never left her spot by the window.
By morning, I convinced myself it had been paranoia, exhaustion, hallucination. School would drag me back to normal. To routine. To something I could hold.
Except it didn't.
The moment I walked through the gates, I knew.
The air felt staged. Too quiet. Students gathered in clusters that weren't quite natural. Teachers loitered in the wrong places, eyes scanning not just the crowd, but me.
Selena had insisted on walking me to class, trailing two steps behind in her carefully practiced disguise of a transfer student. But her hand brushed mine when no one watched—a silent signal that screamed: we're surrounded.
And then, it broke.
It started with the fire alarm. Piercing, shrill, driving everyone into the halls. Students shoved past one another, chaos spiraling into motion.
That's when I saw them.
Not firemen. Not faculty. Men in dark jackets pushing against the current, moving in formation, their gazes locked on me.
Selena's voice brushed my ear, fierce and low:
"They're not here for the school. They're here for you."
Her hand gripped mine, tighter than steel.
The hunters had finally stepped into daylight.
The fire alarm shrieked above us, rattling lockers and nerves alike. Students surged in every direction, a tide of noise and panic.
But the men moved against it—sharks slicing through schools of fish.
Selena's fingers clamped around mine, grounding, burning. Her disguise was flawless—just a new girl in a pressed blazer and tied-back hair—but her eyes, those molten golden eyes, betrayed her calm.
"They're here for you," she repeated, lower this time. "Stay close."
Her shoulder brushed mine as she steered me into the flow of bodies. To anyone watching, we were just two classmates clinging to each other in the chaos. But beneath that veneer, my pulse hammered, and hers—God, hers—was steady, predatory.
I whispered, "If they see you—"
"They won't." Her hand slipped to my waist as she guided me toward the stairwell, intimate enough to draw glares from girls nearby, protective enough to make my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
The hunters followed, relentless.
One of them brushed past a teacher, flashing an ID badge so perfect it might've fooled me too. But their eyes—cold, searching—never left me.
We ducked into the stairwell. For a moment, it was just us. The echo of footsteps above. The rising panic below. The two of us pressed too close in the narrow space, her breath feathering against my cheek.
"They'll corner us," I whispered.
Her lips curved, not in amusement but in something sharper. "Then let them. A corner works both ways."
The door above slammed open. Boots thundered down the stairs.
Three of them.
Selena's hand slid from my waist to my chest, flattening me against the wall. To anyone else, it was the posture of a desperate girl clinging to her boyfriend in crisis. To me, it was a shield.
The first hunter's gaze snagged on us. His mouth twisted into something between a sneer and a grin.
"Found him."
He moved. Fast.
Selena moved faster.
Her leg swept out, subtle as a dancer's step, and his ankle cracked against the stair's edge. He toppled, head slamming the rail with a sickening thud. The others froze for a heartbeat, registering what looked—on the surface—like a freak accident.
Selena didn't give them time to think.
Her arm snaked around my shoulders, pulling me flush against her, lips almost at my ear. To the hunters, maybe it looked like she was shielding me, maybe even kissing me out of panic. But her whisper was pure venom:
"Next one that reaches for him leaves without fingers."
The men hesitated. Just for a moment. Enough.
But then the third pulled something from his jacket—a syringe glinting silver.
Selena's golden eyes flashed. For the first time, her mask cracked.
She shoved me behind her, teeth bared. Not enough to show the world what she was—but enough that I knew.
The air thickened, charged. I felt it, in my bones, in my blood. Her power was right there, humming against the edge of control.
The hunter lunged.
Selena caught his wrist mid-strike, grip iron. For a split second, her nails lengthened, tips grazing inhuman sharpness before retracting. Just enough to puncture his skin and draw a bead of blood.
He froze. His eyes widened.
And Selena smiled.
Not human. Not safe. Not mine—and yet, somehow, entirely mine.
The syringe gleamed like a dagger of mercury. Selena had his wrist caged in her grip, her golden eyes burning through the stairwell shadows.
"You really shouldn't have brought that here," she murmured, low enough that only I could hear.
Her nails lengthened again, just a whisper of claws, and in one smooth twist she snapped the hunter's wrist sideways. The syringe clattered down the stairs, bouncing past the unconscious man at the bottom like a deadly ping-pong ball.
The second hunter roared, drawing a knife. He lunged.
Selena didn't step back. She stepped into him. Her forehead cracked against his nose with a crunch so sharp I swear I felt it in my teeth. The man collapsed with a howl, clutching his face.
The stairwell smelled of iron and panic.
The last hunter froze halfway down the stairs. His hand hovered over his gun, but his eyes—his soul—had already given up. He'd seen too much.
Selena tilted her head, hair falling in a dark wave, smile edged like broken glass. "Want to try your luck?"
He bolted. Up the stairs. Out the door. Gone.
The stairwell hummed with silence, broken only by the groans of the two sprawled hunters. Selena straightened, tugging her blazer sleeve back into place like a girl adjusting before math class. Not a drop of sweat, not a single hair out of place.
Meanwhile, I was plastered against the wall, heart doing drum solos, lungs forgetting their job description.
She turned to me, smirk tugging at her lips. "You alright?"
"Y-yeah," I stammered, voice two octaves too high. "Totally fine. Just… you know, casually surviving an assassin attack during fire drill. Happens every Tuesday."
Her smirk widened. "You're cute when you panic."
Before I could retort, the stairwell door creaked open.
A teacher leaned in—Mr. Hadley, balding, perpetually suspicious, holding a clipboard like it was a holy relic. His eyes swept over the scene: two unconscious men, one with a bloody nose, another crumpled at an unnatural angle, me looking like I'd just fought gravity and lost, and Selena… perfectly composed.
Mr. Hadley blinked. Adjusted his glasses. "...Is this—detention-worthy?"
Selena instantly slipped into normal-girl disguise mode, gasping dramatically as she clutched my arm. "Sir, thank goodness! These men attacked us on the stairs! Ethan tried to protect me, but—oh, it was so scary!"
She fluttered her lashes with Academy Award precision.
I just stood there, dumbfounded, while Hadley's gaze skewered me like I was the mastermind behind a stairwell mafia war.
"Detention," he said flatly.
"WHAT?!" I squawked, voice echoing.
Selena stifled a laugh against my shoulder, whispering so only I heard: "Worth it."
The detention room was colder than the stairwell, if that was possible. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry hornets, and the cracked clock on the wall ticked so slowly it felt like it was mocking me.
I sat slumped in the second row, pencil rolling back and forth under my palm like a prisoner playing with chains. Selena sat beside me—of course she did—looking perfectly at ease, legs crossed, humming softly as if she were in a café instead of serving punishment for assault by mystery thugs.
Across the room, three classmates whispered not-so-subtly.
"Why is she sitting next to him?"
"She's way out of his league."
"Bet he blackmailed her somehow."
My ears burned. I wanted to disappear into the desk.
Selena, naturally, leaned closer until her shoulder brushed mine. Her perfume was faint, floral, completely out of place in this sterile box of misery. She tilted her head and whispered, "You know, if you keep blushing like that, they'll think the rumors are true."
"What rumors?" I hissed back, dread sinking like a stone.
Her grin was pure trouble. "That we're dating."
I nearly swallowed my tongue. The pencil slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor. Mr. Hadley glared up from his newspaper, sighing like a man whose dreams had been crushed long ago. "Quiet."
Selena retrieved my pencil, brushing her fingers over mine deliberately as she handed it back. "Relax, Ethan," she murmured. "It's just detention. You'll survive."
Easy for her to say. I wasn't the one who could snap wrists and terrify mercenaries without breaking a sweat.
By the time detention ended, by the time whispers and curious glances faded into the night, I was home in my shoebox apartment, staring at the ceiling with the cat—the cat—curled on my chest.
Selena's soft purring vibrated against my ribs, but her golden eyes were open, watching me in that way that made it impossible to forget.
I replayed everything: the hunters, the syringe, the way she moved like she'd done it a thousand times. And her smile—sharp, dangerous, beautiful.
She wasn't just a stray cat. She wasn't just some miracle of coincidence.
"Who are you really?" I whispered, though I already suspected the answer was nothing human.
Her tail flicked, tapping my chin like punctuation. Then she stretched, nuzzled under my jaw, and for a moment it was so normal, so heartbreakingly ordinary, I almost convinced myself I was imagining it all.
Almost.
Because just as my eyes were closing, sleep tugging me under, I heard it—scratching at the window. Not claws. Not a branch. Something else.
I turned my head. The glass rattled softly. And outside, in the halo of the streetlamp, a shape crouched against the fire escape—too thin, too many joints, its face hidden in shadow. Watching.
Selena's purr stopped. Her body went rigid. Her eyes narrowed, glowing faint gold in the dark.
And in that heartbeat, I knew tonight wasn't over.
The scratching grew louder. A rasping drag across the glass, like nails searching for a way in.
I froze. My breath caught somewhere between my chest and my throat. Selena slid off me in one liquid motion, landing silently on the floor. She didn't glance back, didn't need to. Her body moved with a tension I'd never seen before, tail flicking sharp, like a whip.
The thing on the fire escape tilted its head. The shadow stretched unnaturally long against the wall. Then—fingers. Too many. Thin as wires. They pressed against the pane, testing.
"Ethan," Selena said softly. Not a warning. A command. "Stay still."
Which was easy, because I couldn't have moved even if my life depended on it.
The figure leaned closer, its face sliding into the weak glow of the streetlight. My stomach flipped. There was no face—just a smooth, pale surface, stretched taut like wax. No eyes. No mouth. Just blank nothingness staring straight at me.
I wanted to scream. I didn't. My voice had gone missing.
Selena's eyes flashed gold. A ripple ran through her fur, the faint outline of something bigger, darker, barely restrained. Her claws scraped the wood floor.
For a breathless moment, it was a standoff: predator against…whatever that thing was.
Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the creature retreated. It scuttled backward on too many limbs, melting into the alley's shadows until the night swallowed it whole.
Silence.
I exhaled shakily, clutching my blanket like it was a lifeline. "What… what the hell was that?"
Selena didn't answer. She padded to the window, nose almost touching the glass, gaze hard. When she finally turned back, her voice was low, serious in a way that sent a chill through me.
"They've found us."
My stomach dropped. "They?"
She didn't elaborate. Instead, she hopped onto the sill, her fur bristling. The street below was empty now—no footsteps, no shadows, no sound.
But when I finally forced myself to look closer, I saw it.
Scratched into the glass with a precision that made my skin crawl were four words, etched deep enough to leave marks:
"GIVE THE MONSTER BACK."
Chapter Thirteen – Scratches You Can't Unsee
By morning, I almost convinced myself I'd dreamed it. Almost.
The sunlight slanted through my tiny kitchen window like it was mocking me, golden and warm, as if faceless monsters weren't playing charades with my sanity a few hours ago. Selena sat on the counter in her cat form, licking a paw, like nothing happened. Typical.
"Sleep well?" she asked, not looking at me.
"Like a baby," I muttered, pulling on my crumpled uniform.
Which, for the record, was half true. Babies wake up screaming every two hours.
By the time I stumbled into school, I was a walking corpse with a backpack. A couple of my classmates glanced up from their morning gossip session, immediately zeroing in on me—and more specifically, the girl walking in three steps behind me.
Selena.
In her human form.
Again.
And of course she had to look like she'd stepped straight out of an anime opening. Perfect hair, skin like moonlight, the kind of presence that made even the teachers lose their train of thought.
"Ethan?" one guy whispered way too loudly. "No way. That's his girlfriend?"
"Impossible," another girl said, actually pouting. "He's… Ethan."
Ouch. Thanks. Love you too.
I wanted to melt into the floor. Selena, naturally, pretended not to notice. She just smiled faintly and took the seat next to mine, which instantly made three girls in the row behind us exchange the kind of looks usually reserved for soap opera betrayals.
My entire life had basically become a meme.
But at lunch, the laughter stopped.
Selena cornered me in the deserted library, her human form shimmering faintly like the illusion was thinner today. She leaned in close, voice low enough to cut the air.
"Don't pretend you forgot."
I stiffened. "Forgot what?"
Her eyes narrowed. "The message. On the glass."
The chill that ran through me had nothing to do with the AC. "I thought… maybe it was just a—"
"Ethan." Her tone snapped like a whip. No softness, no teasing. Just deadly serious. "They know where you live. That thing last night wasn't a dream. It was a warning."
I swallowed. My throat felt sandpaper-dry.
"Then who," I asked, trying not to sound like I was begging for a lie, "are they?"
Selena looked at me for a long time, longer than I could handle, and finally said:
"The ones who call me 'monster.'"
By the end of the school day, I'd somehow survived without combusting. Selena, on the other hand, thrived. She answered questions in class with casual brilliance, drew sketches in her notebook that made my art look like stick figures in kindergarten, and smiled at me whenever I looked stressed — which, if we're being honest, was always.
People whispered. A lot.
Some guys tried to talk to her at break, but she only ever turned to me with that sly grin, like I was in on a joke no one else could hear.
Romantic comedy gold for her. Social apocalypse for me.
At one point, when I was fumbling to open my locker, three girls cornered me.
"You and her," the tallest one said, arms crossed, "are you, like… actually a thing?"
Before I could invent a dignified lie, Selena appeared from nowhere, hooked her arm through mine, and said sweetly, "Of course we are. Why? Jealous?"
The girls' expressions could have curdled milk.
I'm pretty sure one of them muttered something about me not even being cute.
My self-esteem was a pancake at this point.
That night, though… romance and comedy didn't survive.
I got home late from work, shoes dragging, head fogged with exhaustion. Selena was already there, sprawled on my couch in human form, humming some strange lullaby that felt like it belonged to a world I wasn't meant to hear about.
"You're late," she said without opening her eyes.
"Some of us don't have cosmic shapeshifting powers to freeload with," I muttered, collapsing beside her.
She smirked, half-asleep. "Some of us would die without me."
I didn't argue. Not because she was right — but because I was too tired.
Then, just past midnight, the glass in my kitchen shivered.
Not cracked. Not broke. Just… trembled.
Like something outside had touched it from the other side.
Selena's eyes snapped open, all traces of laziness gone. She sat up, every muscle sharp and alert, like a predator.
I followed her gaze — and froze.
Across the street, in the shadows beneath a flickering streetlamp, three figures stood watching my apartment. Not moving. Not speaking. Just… waiting.
And when the streetlight buzzed and flickered, their outlines shifted in ways no human body should.
Selena whispered, "They've found us."
Selena's whisper chilled the room. They've found us.
I didn't even know who "they" were, but my gut knew it wasn't the pizza guy.
The figures outside shifted again, flickering like bad reception. One second they looked like people in dark coats. The next, too tall, too bent, too… wrong. Their shadows stretched the wrong way across the pavement, crawling up the lamppost like black vines.
"Should I… call the police?" I asked, which, in hindsight, was about the dumbest possible option.
Selena gave me a look that said: you adorable idiot.
"If you want them to arrive and die in under five minutes, sure. But I'd rather not owe the entire precinct my conscience."
She stood, barefoot, her human skin rippling for half a heartbeat as if her body was reconsidering what shape it wanted to be. Her eyes burned faint gold, just for a second.
"They're not all human," she muttered. "Some are mercenaries. Some… aren't."
I swallowed hard. "So they've teamed up? People and monsters?"
"Yes." Her voice dropped to a low growl. "Parasites always find each other."
And then, the sound.
Scratch… scratch… scratch.
Something dragged sharp claws down my apartment wall from the outside. Not just once — but in a rhythm. Like knocking.
Scratch… scratch… scratch.
I froze. Selena didn't. She moved to the window, ripped the curtain back, and hissed.
What I saw should've belonged in a nightmare.
A man's face — no, a mask? — pressed against the glass. His mouth too wide, too stretched, grinning with rows of teeth that were half-metal, half-flesh. Behind him, another figure unrolled something metallic from its arm. A weapon? A spine? I couldn't tell.
Selena whispered, "Hunters and creatures, fused together. Bio-contracts. They've been experimenting."
"…Okay," I said weakly. "Cool. Totally normal Wednesday night."
But here's the kicker.
The one at the window leaned close. And in a voice that didn't sound like one person — but two speaking at once — it said my name.
"Ethaaan…"
Selena grabbed my wrist. "Stay behind me. If they break through, I can't hold back anymore."
And right there — right in that frozen moment between fear and fight — I realized something that made my stomach drop:
They weren't just here for her.
They knew about me.
The scratching stopped.
Silence pressed down on my apartment like a heavy lid. I swear even the fridge motor held its breath. I could feel Selena's pulse in her grip on my wrist — too steady, too inhuman to be reassuring.
Then—
CRACK!
The window shattered inward, glass slicing the air like shrapnel. I ducked, nearly hitting the floor, as a shape slithered halfway inside: tall, thin, its spine bending like it hadn't been designed with human bones in mind. Its "mask" face split open down the middle, revealing rows of clicking teeth that didn't belong in any anatomy chart.
Selena's voice dropped into something primal. "Stay. Down."
Her human skin rippled, cracked, and tore. It wasn't a full shapeshift — not yet — but just enough to remind me: she wasn't built to be prey. Her eyes ignited molten gold, her nails stretched into hooked claws, and her hair whipped as if it were alive.
The intruder lunged. Selena caught it midair and slammed it into the floorboards so hard the ceiling fan shook loose dust. The thing shrieked with two voices, glitching like broken audio, before it swung a blade-arm at her neck.
She ducked, snarled, and ripped the blade right off.
I should've been screaming. Or fainting. Or running. Instead, my brain chose comedy:
That's going to come out of my deposit, isn't it?
The thought barely finished before a second shadow slithered through the door — not breaking it, just phasing through like smoke. Its eyes glowed red, scanning the room until they locked on me.
Selena noticed too late.
"ETHAN!"
The shadow lunged.
I braced for pain, claws, or worse — but instead, it didn't touch me. It sank into me.
Cold. Burning. Voices whispering in my ears that weren't mine.
"Found you… found you…"
Selena tore the first creature in half like wet paper, but when she turned, she froze. Not because of the monster. Because of me.
My reflection in the broken glass showed something I wasn't ready to see: my eyes glowing faintly with the same dual-tone shimmer as the things outside.
Selena's voice was trembling now — the first time I'd ever heard fear in it.
"…Ethan… what did they do to you?"
Chapter Fourteen – The Things Inside Me
Selena tore the window-thing apart, its black ichor splattering the floorboards, sizzling where it touched the light. She was a hurricane in human skin, half-shifted now, hair whipping like a banner of fire, claws sparking when they struck bone. She should've looked horrifying. Instead, she looked… beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.
But my body wasn't mine anymore.
The shadow inside me was still whispering, still gnawing at my veins like static in my blood. Every blink flashed with images that weren't mine: burning cities under alien skies, creatures bowing to a throne I couldn't see, and a single name pulsing like a heartbeat —
"The Heir."
What heir? Me? No, no, no—
My knees buckled. The world split. Selena's voice was far away, shouting my name, while the voices inside whispered closer:
"You are not only prey. You are doorway."
The door to the apartment blew inward before I could process that. This time it wasn't a creature — it was men. Not burglars. Not cops. Men in black armor, their visors glowing faintly blue, rifles humming like tuned engines. Corporate mercs.
And behind them? A man in a long coat, no helmet, his smile wide like he'd been waiting years for this exact night.
"There he is," he said smoothly, stepping over broken glass like it was red carpet. His eyes skimmed me, not Selena, not the monsters. Me. "The boy with the debt ledger from hell. You're hosting something very valuable."
Selena growled low, stepping between me and them, her half-shift form glowing with feral heat. "He's not yours."
The man chuckled. "That's where you're wrong."
He snapped his fingers. The mercs opened fire.
Bullets shredded the room. Selena blurred forward, her body between me and the storm, claws flashing. Sparks, screams, gunmetal on bone. I saw her take three shots that didn't drop her, her blood glowing gold instead of red.
But the whisper in me liked the sound of gunfire. It laughed with every bullet.
"Bleed, and we rise," it hissed inside.
I clutched my chest, trying to hold myself in. But the reflection in the broken glass wasn't me anymore — my veins shimmered faintly, like circuitry lit under the skin.
And for the first time, a terrifying thought struck me harder than any bullet could:
What if they're not here to take Selena?
What if they're here because of me?
Selena moved like a storm given skin — fast, vicious, unrelenting. Her claws clanged against metal, sparks spraying as she ripped rifles apart like toys. A merc's scream cut short as she slammed him into the wall so hard the plaster cracked.
"Stay behind me!" she shouted.
But I couldn't move. Because while she was fighting the war outside, the one inside me was going nuclear.
The whispers weren't whispers anymore — they were chants. A hundred voices, a thousand, rising and falling like waves. And with every strike Selena made, I felt something answering inside me. Like the darkness didn't see her as an enemy at all… but as a trigger.
One merc raised a plasma torch, its blade humming with heat, and swung for Selena's spine. I shouted before I even knew I was doing it:
"Behind you!"
The moment the words left my mouth, the torch flickered… then exploded, ripping the merc's arm apart. His scream was drowned in the chaos, but Selena still glanced back at me, shock flashing in her golden eyes.
"Ethan… what did you—?"
I had no answer. My hands were glowing faint blue, like liquid circuits were crawling under my skin. The voices inside were laughing now, delighted.
"Do you see? Do you see what you are?"
The long-coat man didn't flinch as his squad was slaughtered. He just watched me with that thin smile, eyes glinting like a chess master.
"Yes," he murmured, almost reverent. "It's waking."
Selena lunged for him, claws raised — but he didn't move. A ripple of something hit the air, invisible but heavy, and Selena was hurled backward like a doll, crashing into the shattered couch. She coughed blood, her form flickering between human and half-monster.
That was the first time I saw her look afraid.
And that's when the voices inside me shifted. They weren't chanting anymore. They were whispering just one word again, over and over, louder and louder until it was all I could hear:
"Doorway. Doorway. Doorway."
The long-coat man stepped closer, his eyes locking with mine. "Yes," he said, voice silk over steel. "You're not his host. You're the lock. And tonight, boy, we open you."
The world snapped.
Shadows poured out of the floorboards like liquid smoke. The walls trembled. Selena screamed my name, but it was distant, muffled, like I was underwater.
And just before I blacked out, I saw it: a shape, massive, indescribable, pressing against reality from the other side of me. Its eyes opened in the dark, and the apartment filled with a low, inhuman hum.
The air went wrong.
That's the only way I can put it. Like the oxygen had been replaced with molten glass — heavy, sharp, impossible to breathe.
Selena staggered, coughing blood again as her claws twitched between fur and flesh. "Ethan—stop—it's you, it's your body doing this—"
But I couldn't stop.
The voices inside weren't whispers or chants anymore. They were screams. They wanted out.
The long-coat man lifted his gloved hand, like he was conducting the whole nightmare. "Yes. Yes. Just a little more. Show them the first shape."
And then—something moved under my skin.
Like black vines crawling up from my ribs, bulging, pressing, trying to split me open. I screamed until my throat tore, but the sound wasn't even human anymore.
Selena crawled toward me, ignoring the mercs and the blood. Her eyes were wide, pleading, gold burning with something raw. "Ethan—listen to me—you're still you. Don't let it take—"
The floorboards shattered.
From me.
A tendril of shadow — thick, veined with blue fire — erupted out of my chest, lashing across the room. It slammed a merc so hard into the ceiling his body folded before falling limp. Another tendril snapped sideways, wrapping around a second merc's gun arm, twisting until bone and metal both snapped.
They didn't even have time to scream.
I looked down — if you can call it looking — and saw the thing wasn't just coming out of me. It was part of me. The tendrils bent like extra arms, moving where my thoughts flickered.
And yet, I wasn't controlling them. They were testing me. Tasting me.
Selena's face… gods. I'll never forget it. Not fear. Not exactly. But something worse. Recognition.
She knew what I was. Or what I was becoming.
The long-coat man actually bowed, like I'd just proven a point for him. "There it is. The threshold. The beast with no leash." His grin widened. "You'll break the world open for us, boy. You just don't know it yet."
The tendrils lashed for him—I lashed for him—but the instant they touched the air around his coat, they burned away with a sound like screaming metal. He didn't even flinch.
Selena managed to leap in front of me then, claws glowing with her own golden fire, shielding me with her whole body even as the shadows roared from inside me. "No!" she shouted, voice breaking. "You don't get him. He's mine!"
And then, just like that—
The tendrils retracted.
The air calmed.
The thing inside me… laughed.
Not out loud. Not even in my head. It laughed through me.
And I collapsed into Selena's arms.
Chapter Fifteen – The Weight of Fire
I woke to warmth. Not sunlight. Not a blanket.
Her.
Selena had wrapped herself around me, human form this time, arms clutching me so tightly I thought my ribs might snap. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest — wild, uneven, but alive.
For a second, I thought it had all been a dream.
The mercenaries. The tendrils. The thing crawling out of me.
But the stench of blood was still heavy in the air. My apartment looked like a warzone — walls splintered, ceiling cracked, a gun half-melted into the floor. And on the far wall, a shadow print still lingered. Like the shape of a hand, only stretched, jagged, wrong. My hand.
I couldn't breathe.
"Ethan…" Selena's voice was soft, but not gentle. More like a warning, or maybe a prayer. "You felt it, didn't you?"
I tried to sit up. She pressed me down again with surprising force. Her golden eyes burned, too bright for a human face. "Don't move. You tore yourself apart last night."
"Last night…" I whispered. My throat was raw, shredded. Like I'd swallowed glass. "Selena, I—what the hell was that?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she leaned closer, her forehead against mine, like she was afraid I'd disappear if she blinked. "Something I hoped I'd never see again."
Her words made my stomach turn. "Again?"
She pulled away slowly, looking anywhere but my face. And that silence… it told me more than words could. She knew. She knew about this thing inside me long before I did.
And yet… she stayed.
She brushed my hair back — gently this time — and whispered, "You're mine, Ethan. Don't forget that. Whatever they put in you… whatever you are… you're mine."
For a moment, I let myself believe that was enough. That her arms could drown out the monster's laughter still echoing inside me.
But then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Not a neighbor. Not the landlord.
The sound was too deliberate. Too heavy.
Selena's body went rigid. She mouthed, not human.
The knock came again, followed by a distorted voice that slithered through the door like smoke.
"Ethan Vale. Vessel of the First Shape. You've been… noticed."
Selena hissed, claws snapping out. "Damn it. Too soon."
I barely had time to ask too soon for what before the door exploded inward — not from brute force, but like it had rotted away in an instant. Standing in the threshold was no mercenary. No man. It was a thing.
Skin pale and stretched thin over bone. Eyes hollow, glowing faintly blue. Its mouth opened sideways, releasing a whisper that froze the room.
"Hungry…"
And for the first time in my life, I realized monsters weren't hiding from me.
They were coming for me.
Chapter Sixteen – The Thing at the Door
The word "hungry" hung in the air like frostbite.
And then the thing lunged.
Its body snapped forward in a way that bones shouldn't bend, arms stretching out like ropes. Selena shoved me down, claws out, her hiss sharper than glass.
"Stay behind me!"
She met the monster halfway. Her claws raked across its chest, sparks flying where her inhuman nails struck. But the creature didn't bleed. Didn't even flinch. It laughed — a hollow, insect-buzzing sound.
It swung at her with a limb like a whip. Selena caught it midair, twisted, and snapped it.
The arm dangled useless.
But the creature didn't stop. It bent down, skull almost touching the floor, and scuttled forward on its remaining limbs like some deranged spider.
"Selena!" I shouted. My body moved before my brain did — I grabbed the nearest thing, the melted gun still stuck in the floor. It burned my hands, but I tore it free and swung it like a club.
The blow connected with its head. The skull cracked — and then stitched itself back together in seconds.
It smiled at me.
And I realized, to my horror, it wasn't here for Selena.
It was here for me.
Selena's golden eyes blazed. "Ethan—run!"
But I couldn't. My legs were jelly, my throat dry. The thing's whispers wrapped around my skull. Vessel. Vessel. Open the gate.
And then the warmth returned. The same fire that had erupted last night.
It coiled in my chest, begging to be released.
"No," I muttered. "Not again. Not—"
Selena's scream cut me off. The creature pinned her to the wall, teeth bared. She slashed wildly, but her strikes bounced off like sparks on stone.
Something broke inside me.
The fire surged, tearing through my veins. My shadow moved before I did, sprouting tendrils that lashed out and wrapped around the monster's body. It screeched, thrashing, but the shadows dragged it away from Selena, yanking it into the center of the room.
"Ethan!" Selena gasped. "You're—"
I didn't hear the rest. The laughter in my head was back, louder than ever. My mouth opened, and a voice that wasn't mine roared:
"FEAST."
The shadows ripped the creature apart. Not with claws. Not with teeth. They simply unmade it. Like pulling apart a puzzle until nothing was left but dust and echoes.
And then silence.
I collapsed, chest heaving, the shadows retreating into me like smoke sucked back into a bottle. My body shook uncontrollably.
Selena rushed to me, pulling me into her arms. She looked terrified — not of the creature, but of me.
Before either of us could speak, a sound cut through the night.
Sirens. Not police. Too high-pitched, too sharp.
Selena froze. "They're here already."
"Who?" I croaked.
Her claws dug into my shirt. "The hunters. The ones who track anything not human. They'll smell that thing's death. They'll smell you."
A spotlight beam swept past the shattered window. Drones. Sleek, black, humming like wasps.
Selena didn't wait. She yanked me to my feet, dragging me toward the fire escape.
"We can't stay. We can't fight them all."
"But—" I tried to protest, but she shoved a finger to my lips, eyes blazing.
"No questions. Just run."
We burst into the night. Down the fire escape, into the back alleys of the city. Behind us, my apartment — my whole miserable life — lit up under a swarm of hunter drones. Voices echoed through megaphones, mechanical and merciless.
"Target confirmed. Containment authorized."
I wanted to collapse. To vomit. To scream. But Selena's hand in mine was the only thing keeping me moving.
And as we sprinted through the sleeping city, dodging lights and shadows, one horrifying truth settled in my chest:
I wasn't running from debt anymore.
I was running from the world itself.
Chapter Seventeen – The City of Hunters
The city wasn't asleep. It never was. Not really.
From the rooftops, neon spilled across the streets in a sickly rainbow, painting the rain-slick asphalt like oil. Selena dragged me by the wrist, half-carrying me through alleyways that smelled of rust and rot.
Behind us, the hunters descended.
Drones buzzed like hornets, red search-beams crisscrossing walls and windows. Black vans skidded into the block, armored men in faceless helmets pouring out with weapons that hummed instead of clicked.
"Keep moving!" Selena hissed, shoving me against the wall just as a beam swept across the alley. My chest heaved; the air tasted like static.
"They'll— they'll see us," I whispered.
Her lips pressed close to my ear. "Then don't breathe."
We froze. A drone hovered just feet away, red light burning through the dark. I swore it could hear my heartbeat. Selena's claws hovered, ready to strike, but she didn't move. She didn't even blink.
The drone scanned, whirred, and zipped past.
Selena yanked me forward again.
We broke into a sprint, weaving between dumpsters, scaling a chain-link fence, dropping into another alley. Gunfire burst behind us — but it wasn't bullets. Blue streaks of plasma seared the walls, melting brick like wax.
I stumbled. "They're not cops, are they?"
Selena didn't look back. "Cops? No. Cops are amateurs compared to these. These are mercenaries with corporate teeth."
We darted into the street just as a black van screeched around the corner. Headlights blinded me. Selena yanked me into a roll, and the van plowed into a row of parked cars instead. The explosion lit up the night, showering us in sparks.
I couldn't stop coughing. My body ached. "Selena, I can't—"
"Yes you can," she snapped, her face close to mine, golden eyes fierce. "Because if you stop, they'll put you in a cage. And if they put you in a cage, you'll never see the sky again."
That got me moving.
We ducked into a subway entrance, the buzz of drones fading overhead. The tunnel smelled like mold and iron, deserted at this hour. Selena pulled me into the shadows, her hand on my chest, steadying my breath.
For the first time since the attack, the world went quiet.
Her claws retracted, leaving only her human hands on me. Warm. Shaking slightly. She glanced down at them like she wasn't sure if she wanted to hold me or strangle me.
"Ethan…" she whispered. "You shouldn't have used it."
"The shadows?" My voice cracked.
She nodded slowly. "It's not just power. It's a beacon. Every time you open that door, they hear it. Hunters. Creatures. Things worse than either. And they'll keep coming until…"
"Until what?" I asked.
Her silence was heavier than any answer.
We sank against the wall, breaths syncing, the rumble of the subway pipes above like a heartbeat. For a moment, it felt almost… intimate. Like the chase hadn't happened. Like it was just us, pressed against stone, hidden away from the world.
I caught myself staring at her profile — the way the dim light caught in her golden eyes, the way a strand of her black hair clung to her cheek with sweat.
She noticed. Of course she did.
"Don't," she said softly.
"Don't what?"
"Don't look at me like I'm someone you can trust."
But she didn't pull her hand away.
The silence stretched. Then—
CLANG.
A metal pipe dropped somewhere deeper in the tunnel. Echoing. Deliberate.
We weren't alone.
Selena was on her feet instantly, claws unsheathed, back arched. "They found us," she whispered.
But when the figure stepped into the light, it wasn't a mercenary. Or a drone. Or a monster.
It was a boy. No older than me. Hooded, pale, with eyes that flickered like broken neon. He raised his hands.
"Relax," he said. His voice was shaky, but calm. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I'm here to help."
Selena didn't lower her claws. "Liar."
The boy smiled weakly. "Maybe. But I know what Ethan is. And I know who's coming next."
He leaned forward, eyes locking on mine.
"They're not after her." He pointed at Selena.
"They're after you."
The hooded boy's words hung in the tunnel like smoke.
"They're not after her. They're after you."
Selena moved before thought could catch her. In a blur she was on him, claws glinting in the subway's weak light.
Her strike stopped inches from his throat — because my hand shot out, catching her wrist.
"Selena, wait!" My voice echoed, raw, more desperate than I meant it to sound.
Her eyes burned golden, feral, but I didn't let go. If anything, I held tighter.
"You don't know what he is," she hissed, fangs peeking in the corner of her mouth.
"And you don't either!" I shot back. "If he wanted me dead, I'd be bleeding already. You said it yourself — mercs, hunters, monsters. He's none of those."
Her claws twitched, grazing the boy's throat. He didn't even flinch. Just watched us with that unsettling calm, like this was all scripted and he'd read the ending.
"Move," she snarled at me.
"No."
The boy chuckled. A dry, hollow sound. "Cute. You're already choosing sides, Ethan. That's good. You'll need to."
That made Selena snap. She shoved me aside, claws flashing — but the boy wasn't there anymore.
A flicker, a distortion, like neon light warping. He reappeared several feet back, leaning casually against the tunnel wall as though he'd never moved at all.
My skin crawled. That wasn't speed. That was wrong.
Selena let out a low growl, dropping into a crouch. "Shadow-born trickery."
The boy shook his head. "Not shadow. Reflection." He pointed to the puddle at his feet, murky and shifting. "Mirrors don't lie. But they show what others don't want to see. Including the truth about him."
His gaze cut back to me. Piercing. Unblinking.
"You've already felt it, haven't you? That hunger in your veins. That pull when you touch the dark. That's not power, Ethan. That's a curse. And if you don't learn to master it—"
"Shut up," Selena snapped.
But her voice wasn't steady anymore. It cracked, almost… pleading.
The boy tilted his head. "Oh. She hasn't told you."
That was the twist that hit harder than the mercenaries or the drones.
I turned to Selena, pulse hammering.
"Told me what?"
She froze. Her claws slowly retracted, her body coiling tight, as though the question itself was a knife.
The boy smirked, as if savoring the moment. "That she knew about you. Long before you knew about yourself. That she was never just protecting you, Ethan."
He stepped closer, lowering his hood, revealing hair silver as moonlight and eyes fractured with shifting neon veins. Not human. Not close.
"She was watching you."
Selena's golden eyes were wild, glinting like molten metal. She stepped toward the hooded boy, claws flicking, but then stopped when I held up my hand.
"No," I said, voice firm, shaking anyway. "He's telling the truth."
Selena's gaze snapped to mine. "What truth? That you're letting a stranger manipulate you?"
"I… I don't know," I admitted. "But he knows about me. He knows things you've never told me. Things you're keeping."
Her jaw tightened. Her shoulders coiled. For a heartbeat, I thought she might strike me instead of the boy.
"Ethan, don't," she hissed, every word sharp as her claws. "Don't—don't put your trust in anyone. Not him. Not—"
A deafening crash cut through her warning.
The subway ceiling shuddered as a horde of drones smashed through a side entrance, their lights stabbing into the shadows. Behind them, armored mercenaries poured in, plasma weapons primed. The reflection-boy raised his hands, shimmering like liquid glass, and flicked a finger toward the approaching swarm.
The nearest drone exploded, shredding a concrete pillar into sparks. A mercenary stumbled back, gun melting in his hands.
"See?" the boy said, voice calm despite chaos. "They come for you, Ethan. And the more they see you, the stronger you become."
Selena growled, snapping back into motion. She lashed out with claws that glittered gold, tearing through two drones before they even realized she was there. I wanted to reach out, stop her, explain, but the thing inside me roared.
The shadows curled up my arms, tendrils brushing against the approaching mercs, pulling, yanking, shredding. I didn't consciously move them. They were acting on their own.
Selena glanced at me mid-strike. Her eyes softened for just a second. "Ethan…"
And then the shadows surged outward, knocking both mercs and drones back, metal and concrete flying. The boy tilted his head, smirking. "Finally. You're waking up."
My chest heaved, heart hammering in my ears. I didn't know what "waking up" meant. Or if it was good or bad.
Selena tackled me mid-step. "You listen to me," she said, voice trembling under the roar of the battle. "I don't care what they told you, or what he said. You stay with me. No matter what comes out of you, no matter what they make you. Got it?"
I wanted to argue. To tell her that I was already lost inside my own body. But the shadows curled around her hands instead of striking her, and I realized she trusted me anyway.
"I got it," I whispered.
And then the reflection-boy snapped his fingers, shattering a line of drones. "Good. Now let's see how far you can really go."
The air shifted. Reality itself felt like it was trembling. Behind us, the tunnels stretched, shadows crawling along the walls. The fight wasn't over. It was just beginning.
Chapter Eighteen – Awakening in Fire and Shadow
The tunnels shook like the city itself was screaming. Drones buzzed overhead, their red lights slicing the darkness, mercenaries charging with weapons that hummed and crackled. And in the center, I felt it — the fire inside me, alive, impatient, hungry.
Selena stayed close, hands on my shoulders, golden eyes locked on mine. "Focus," she barked, teeth flashing. "Don't let it take you. Let me guide it!"
I tried. I really did. But the shadows didn't listen. They twisted out of my limbs, snaking through the tunnels, lashing drones and soldiers alike. Metal screamed as plasma rifles bent and fused with concrete. Sparks rained down like fireworks gone wrong.
Selena moved with me, almost dancing, claws flashing, cutting through the chaos. Every time a tendril of shadow whipped past, I felt it searching for control, and her hands were the anchor.
"You've got this, Ethan!" she shouted, shoving me behind a pillar just as a drone's plasma blast melted into stone. Her hair whipped around her face, half-human, half-gold-furred blur, her form flickering between shapes in a heartbeat.
I felt the whispers again, loud and joyful, urging me forward. The tendrils surged, lifting a mercenary off his feet, hurling him into the wall. I hadn't meant to, hadn't even realized I was doing it.
Selena's eyes softened for a brief moment. "You're not just a vessel. You're him. You're stronger than I ever imagined."
And that's when it happened.
The reflection-boy snapped his fingers. Reality broke around us. The walls of the tunnel stretched and bent, shadows crawling along the ceilings like living things. The tendrils responded, whipping out to meet the distortion, twisting and tearing the very air.
"Good," he said, calm as chaos. "Feel it. Control it. Become it."
I did.
And the moment I let go, the shadows obeyed me. They swirled, forming shapes, striking with precision. Drones exploded midair, mercenaries slammed into walls, the tunnel itself groaning under the force. Yet even in that destruction, I felt Selena's hands holding me steady.
"You're terrifying," she whispered, voice soft but steady against the roar of the battle.
I could only laugh — half in exhilaration, half in disbelief. "I know."
Her lips brushed mine for a split second as a warning — or maybe reassurance. The kiss barely lasted a heartbeat, but it grounded me, tethered me to her instead of the shadow inside.
And then the tunnel ceiling cracked, revealing a second wave of hunters, faster, more precise, glowing like the reflection-boy said they would.
Selena growled. "They just don't quit, do they?"
"No," I said, tendrils stretching and bending to shield us. "But neither do we."
The fight had become a dance of shadows and gold, destruction and intimacy, fear and trust — and through it all, I realized one terrifying, exhilarating truth:
I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was awake.
Chapter Nineteen – Shadows Across the City
The city screamed in neon and sirens as we burst from the subway tunnels. Rain slicked streets reflected the chaos: drones buzzing like enraged hornets, mercs in black armor tearing through alleyways, and our shadows dancing across walls like living creatures.
Selena's hand gripped mine tightly. "Stay close!" she shouted over the roar. Her claws flickered at the edges of her hands, gold light igniting briefly as she cut through a drone hovering too close.
I barely managed to keep up. The shadows inside me coiled, twisting, lashing out at mercs and vehicles, destroying anything in reach. I was learning to shape the chaos — not perfectly, not yet — but enough to keep us alive.
As we darted down a side street, dodging laser fire and sparks from exploding vehicles, Selena grabbed my arm and slammed me against a wall. She pressed her forehead to mine, breathing hard.
"You're too reckless," she snapped, but her golden eyes softened. "Control it, Ethan. Feel it, don't just unleash it."
I nodded, gasping. "I'm trying… but it's like it's alive inside me. It doesn't listen!"
She brushed sweat from my temple. "Then we'll teach it. Together."
Her voice grounded me. Even as drones buzzed past, plasma slicing the air near our heads, and mercs emerged from alleyways like ants, I focused. The shadows obeyed me in tiny bursts — forming shields, pulling enemies off balance, moving almost like a dance. Selena mirrored my movements, slashing and striking with deadly precision.
We reached a rooftop and leapt, landing in a courtyard of a deserted corporate building. The reflection-boy's words echoed in my head: They're watching. They'll keep coming.
Selena crouched beside me, breathing heavy. "We need a place to regroup. Safe. Hidden. Then we train. Then we fight."
I looked around at the ruined streets, the chaos we left behind. "And in the meantime?"
"In the meantime," she whispered, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face, "we survive. Together. No matter what comes."
A long silence passed — not peaceful, but fragile, like the calm before the next storm. I dared to reach for her hand. She didn't pull away.
Above us, drones hovered. From the shadows, mercenaries stalked. And somewhere, beyond the city lights, the reflection-boy's presence lingered like a warning.
We were fugitives. Lovers. Warriors. And the world was only beginning to understand what we were.
Chapter Twenty – Fire in the Shadows
We slipped into the lair — a hidden underground complex beneath an abandoned industrial district. The air was heavy with damp metal and the faint hum of machinery, and for the first time in days, I felt barely safe.
Selena sank to the floor, golden eyes flickering with fatigue. "We have maybe a few hours before they regroup," she muttered. "Then it's only a matter of time before they sniff us out."
I dropped beside her, letting the shadows curl faintly around my hands. "I… I need to control this," I admitted. "I almost—"
"You almost destroyed half the city," Selena finished, voice sharp but not unkind. She reached for my hand, pressing it firmly against hers. "But you're not alone. I'll guide you."
Training began. Hours of shadow shaping, focus drills, and fine control while Selena stood close, correcting, guiding, and occasionally teasing me when I flinched or overpowered the tendrils. Each time she laughed — soft, melodic, teasing — my chest tightened, pulse hammering not from fear but from her.
Between exercises, moments slipped in. She brushed my hair from my face, whispered encouragement, even dared a fleeting kiss when a shadow moved perfectly under my control. Each touch, each glance, layered the tension between romance and danger.
And yet… even in the lair, nothing was truly safe.
A metallic hum vibrated through the floor. Drones had found the perimeter. Not just drones — more than I'd ever seen, and larger, deadlier than before. The reflection-boy's warning echoed: They'll keep coming. They sense your power. They'll never stop.
Selena froze. "They're close. Too close." Her claws flexed, golden sparks dancing across her knuckles. "Ethan, are you ready?"
I swallowed hard. "I… think so."
She stepped forward, body brushing mine, eyes locking with mine. "Then we fight. Together."
The doors shattered before we could even finish the sentence. Metallic limbs, drones, and unknown creatures swarmed the lair. The shadows inside me surged at once, responding to my fear, my rage… my love for her.
And in that chaos, Selena's claws and my shadow tendrils moved as one, a deadly, synchronized storm. Between the flashes of destruction and sparks of golden claws, a fleeting thought hit me:
I wasn't just fighting to survive anymore. I was fighting for her.