CHAPTER SEVEN
1265 Words
Louis's Pov
She fainted in my arms right after the shift.
Not the gentle kind either. Not the cinematic fall-into-his-chest type.
Her entire body buckled, like something inside her had finally snapped loose and didn’t know how to piece itself back together.
Tyler, my wolf, had howled in triumph the moment her red wolf emerged, but the joy didn’t last long.
She collapsed, still halfway in her other form, still leaking adrenaline and moonlight. I held her close, checked her pulse, pressed my hand against her sweat-soaked cheek. Her skin burned like fire, then dropped to ice in under a minute.
She was alive. I knew that much. But something was wrong. Something I couldn’t explain.
We weren’t alone.
There was a shift in the air. The scent was faint, too faint. One of ours. A wolf, no question.
I didn’t look. Didn’t acknowledge. Just scooped Maya up and held her tighter.
If it was who I thought it was, they’d report back. Word would spread faster than wildfire now, she’d shifted. She’d awakened.
The thing I’d worked so hard to trigger was finally here… and I didn’t feel victorious.
I felt off. Out of place. Like something ancient had stepped in and taken over, and now I was the one left to figure out what came next.
I wanted her to wake up. Gods, I needed her to. I needed to see those amber eyes again and tell her what she was. Who she was. What we were.
But time was against us, and she wasn’t coming around fast enough.
So I wrapped her up in her hoodie, carried her back into the suburbs, and walked her up to the porch light like nothing had happened.
Her house was dark, just like I expected. Quiet.
I rang the bell twice. Then again.
Mrs. Hawke opened the door in her robe and slippers, squinting behind thick glasses.
“She fainted,” I said simply, playing the concerned boyfriend card. “Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
Mrs. Hawke didn’t question it. She just took Maya from me with a soft gasp and mumbled a thank you before shutting the door.
No questions. No suspicion.
Just as planned.
***
The next morning, I felt her.
She was in the building. I could always tell when she was.
It was faint, like a sweet scenting smoke, getting blown away fast by the wind.
But it was her.
Only… I couldn’t see her.
I waited by her locker, her usual corner near the vending machines, the back hallway where she always lingered before history.
Nothing.
I sent a text.
You okay?
Nothing.
I waited five minutes, then called.
Voicemail.
Again. And again. And again.
For the next two days, it was the same. No replies. No messages. Just that agonizing silence.
But I didn’t panic.
She’d come around. She had to.
When it started, when the instincts kicked in, she wouldn’t be able to ignore it.
Her wolf would pull her toward me, and when it did, I’d be ready.
By day three, I was sick of pacing the hallways like a lovesick i***t. So I made my way to the one place I never thought I’d set foot in.
The Anti-Werewolf Club.
Ironic, yeah? The whole school knew it was Maya’s thing.
But I needed to find her, and it was the only place I hadn’t tried.
I stepped inside just as a meeting was winding down. Red banners and black lettering filled the bulletin board like it was some war camp.
Approaching me was Zelda.
Wearing tight jeans, glossed lips, and a grin like she knew the end of the story before anyone else did.
She approached me slowly, swaying like she thought it’d impress me. “Louis,” she said, her voice all honey “Didn’t expect to see you in this part of the school.”
I gave her a lazy smirk. “Curiosity. Or maybe I missed the propaganda.”
She laughed, flipping her hair. “You’re funny. I like that.”
I kept the smile polite. “You seen Maya around?”
Her face twitched for half a second. That was all I needed.
“Nope,” she lied, too fast. “Haven’t seen her in days.”
I leaned against the wall, arms folded. “Strange. I could’ve sworn I smelled grief.”
She laughed again, but her eyes sharpened. She didn’t understand what I meant, good.
I let her keep smiling, let her think I was charmed by her presence.
Let her flirt, let her imagine she had a chance.
If feeding her delusion kept her talking, I’d feed it all week.
***
Two more days passed.
I kept calling. Kept texting. Sometimes I just stared at the message thread, wondering if she was reading everything in silence.
Then one afternoon, I swear to the Moon Goddess, I saw it.
“Maya is typing…”
And then, gone.
No message. No reply.
Just that mocking flash of three dots before silence swallowed me again.
***
The following morning, I sat outside on the school’s back steps with a few guys from class. They were talking trash about Zelda and her loyal pack of drama wolves.
“She thinks she runs the place,” one of them said. “But it’s just Lila and Tessa who worship her because they’re too scared to think for themselves.”
I chuckled. “Lila’s got more bark than bite. Tessa just follows whoever buys her coffee.”
“Man,” the guy beside me snorted, “you are learning fast.”
I shrugged. “Observation.”
One of them nudged me. “Yo. Look behind you.”
I turned — Maya.
She looked pale. Tired. Like she hadn’t slept in days. The usual fire behind her eyes was dimmed, but not gone.
And she was staring right at me.
I stood so fast I nearly dropped my phone. “Maya—”
She walked toward me without blinking, cutting across the grass like the crowd didn’t exist.
“We need to talk,” she said.
No smile. No pretense.
Just raw, stripped honesty.
I didn’t hesitate.
I waved at the guys and took her hand gently, guiding her away from the benches toward one of the back corridors, less noise, fewer eyes.
“How are you?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She looked up at me with unreadable eyes. “I’ve been… figuring things out.”
“Are you okay?” I asked again.
“I’ll be at your place later,” she said, dodging the question. “We’ll talk then.”
And just like that, she turned and walked away.
I stood there for a beat, watching her go.
Something in her had shifted. Not broken, just… reforged.
Back with the guys, I barely sat down before one of them shoved a phone at me.
“Dude, you have to see this. Happened five minutes ago.”
I took the phone.
It was a video.
Maya. In the hallway.
Zelda was mid-monologue, talking with her usual sugar-coated cruelty.
Then Maya wrecked her.
Not with fists. With words.
The kind of takedown that would replay in people’s heads for weeks.
“Damn,” one of the guys laughed. “What happened between you two again?”
I handed
the phone back, with a deep breath.
“She wants to talk,” I said simply. “At my place.”
They whistled, cracked jokes. I didn’t hear a word of it.
Because for the first time in days… she was coming to me.
- Writer
