HIS WHITE LUNA

Chapter 7 - CODE BLUE EYES

The red-tinted fog was crawling down the dirt road toward us.

And sirens were getting louder on Route 17. Not one. Three. Four.

"He called the cops on his own school?" Ethan stared from the cabin window, flickering. "But he goes there? He's a student?"

"He was," Harrison said, jaw locked, scooping the photo album and shoving it in his backpack. "Senior last year. Supposed to graduate. Then he disappeared after the Blood Moon memorial. The cops thought he ran away. My father filed the report. Now he's back and—"

He didn't finish. Blue and red lights flashed through the trees, lighting up the whole woods. Police cars turning onto the dirt road.

"They're coming here," Brayden whispered, white eyes flaring. "He told them we were here. The anomaly. Us."

Harrison grabbed my hand, hard. "The car. Now. If we run, we look guilty. If the humans see the eyes, we prove the anomaly."

We ran. Four of us piled back into the matte black Range Rover ALPHA1 — stupid plate now, glowing in the police lights.

We reversed fast, dirt spraying, but too late. Two police SUVs blocked the dirt road exit, lights blinding.

"STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE WITH HANDS VISIBLE!" The megaphone.

Harrison hit the steering wheel. "I am the Alpha of Blackthorn and I'm being stopped by the human cops because of that empty bastard—"

"Harrison," I hissed, grabbing his arm, my scar burning against his heat. "If you shift now, every kid who said they saw glowing eyes today will be right. You'll prove Sebastian's story."

That stopped him. His gold eyes dimmed with effort back to amber. His claws retracted, painful, nail by nail.

We got out, hands up. The fog was everywhere now, faint red, but the cops didn't seem to see the red, only white.

Four officers, hands on tasers, not guns yet. One older detective in plain clothes, late 40s, tired eyes, notepad.

"Willow High students?" The detective asked, eyeing our uniforms, Harrison's torn shirt. "We had a call about the gas leak plus... plus some kids said they saw animals. Or kids with animal eyes. And your car was seen speeding from the evacuation. You four were not counted in the headcount."

Brayden stepped forward instantly. Blood still under his nose from earlier, but he wiped it fast.

"Officer, we were in the old chapel," Brayden said, voice calm, perfect honor-roll student. "Study group. History project. We heard the alarm, we got scared, we ran. Harrison drove because his father owns the school, he has the key to the back gate."

The detective frowned, wrote. "The chapel is off limits. Condemned."

"Yes sir, we know, that's why we didn't want to get in trouble," Brayden continued smoothly, white eyes now hidden, looking normal brown, but I could see the faint silver ring. "We have the permission slip? Ethan has it."

Ethan, invisible for half a second from panic, went solid, patting pockets frantically. "I— I—"

The detective's eyes narrowed at Ethan. "Kid, you okay? You look... pale."

"He has anemia," I blurted, stepping half behind Harrison, using the human excuse Valentina taught me when I was little for why my eyes sometimes flashed white in photos. "Low iron. He faints."

Harrison was vibrating next to me. Literally vibrating. Claim instinct plus Alpha ego plus being accused in front of me. His hands fists, jaw popping.

"And you?" The detective looked at Harrison. "You own the car? At seventeen?"

"My father owns the school," Harrison said, too sharp. "My father is— was the Alpha— was the owner. I drive his car. We were not doing anything wrong."

"Watch the tone, son," the officer behind the detective said, stepping closer.

Harrison's amber eyes flashed gold for half a second. Just half a second. But the detective saw.

The detective leaned closer, staring at Harrison's eyes. "Son, are you on something? Your eyes—"

Brayden cut in fast, louder, intellect mode.

"Officer, question — what exactly was the anomaly? Because we heard the kids screaming 'wolf' but the Willow High mascot is the Wolves. Maybe they saw the football team doing initiation? During the gas leak? That would explain the animal eyes — contacts. Color contacts. Lots of the team wears gold contacts for the games. Harrison is the captain, he would know."

Smooth. So smooth. He gave them the human explanation.

The detective paused, considering, writing. The gold flash could be contacts. In the police report, "gold contacts" sounds less crazy than "gold eyes."

"Contacts," the detective repeated, looking at Harrison. "You wear contacts?"

Harrison stared, breathing hard, then forced, "Yes."

"Take them out," the detective said.

Silence.

Harrison's fists shook. Asking the Alpha to submit to the human. In front of his mate. In front of the school who already thinks he's a monster. His reputation — Blackthorn Alpha, untouchable, perfect — cracking.

I slipped my hand into his, hidden behind his back. My scar touched his wrist. His shaking eased one fraction.

"No," Harrison said, but quieter now. "I can't. Prescription. Need the doctor."

Brayden stepped between them, smiling, perfect student council smile.

"Detective, with respect, we are minors, it's 4 PM, the gas leak, our parents will worry. Can we call the Principal Valentina? She can confirm our project. She knows us. Also, we have the curfew, we need to—"

He was talking too fast. Too much. I saw it — blood. Thin line, crawling from his left nostril, down. Silver-white, not red. Seer overload. Using intellect plus hiding eyes plus lying to the human with the badge was burning him out.

He wiped it but the detective saw.

The detective's frown deepened. He reached for Brayden's chin, tilting.

"Son, you bleeding? You hurt in the chapel?"

Brayden's white eyes flickered — just for a second, white flash, blind seer eyes —

The detective stumbled back, hand going to the taser. "What the— your eyes!"

The officers tensed. Hands on tasers now raised.

"CODE, CODE, EYES!" One officer shouted into the radio. "We have— we have—"

"Everyone hands on the hood! Now!" The detective shouted, pulling out the taser, aiming at Brayden.

Harrison moved in front of Brayden instantly, growling, gold eyes full now, not hiding, because Brayden was pack.

"No," Harrison snarled at the detective, voice layered double. "Don't touch him."

Chaos. Taser beep. The fog redder. My white nails shot out, glowing, I couldn't stop.

The detective stared at us — at Harrison gold, at me white, at Ethan flickering half invisible, at Brayden white-eyed bleeding silver — and his mouth opened in pure human terror.

"The anomalies..." he whispered.

Then his radio crackled, loud, saving us.

"DETECTIVE MILLER! DETECTIVE MILLER! GET BACK TO THE SCHOOL NOW! ALL THE STUDENTS REPORTING... REPORTING ANIMALS ON THE ROOF! EYES! WE HAVE FOOTAGE! THE PRINCIPAL VALENTINA IS—"

Radio static, screaming.

All four of us looked at each other. Same second. Same understanding.

Gold, white, white, and flickering invisible eyes shone together in the police lights.

Not from stress. From realization.

The fog. The cops. The questions. It was all part of it. Distraction while he started at the school.

"He's turning the school into hunters," Brayden whispered, silver blood down chin.

Ethan solidified fully, terrified: "He's telling the humans."

Harrison's claws dug into the police car hood, leaving marks.

And I whispered last, my white eyes bright enough to make the detective drop his taser:

"Sebastian."