Morning light cut a sharp path across Jessica's rumpled sheets, the sun's angle marking another day she'd have to pretend to be normal. Her alarm's third electronic shriek stabbed into her heightened awareness, each sound distinct and invasive. With a groan, she smacked it silent and hauled herself upright, the remnants of sleep falling away like a shed skin.

  The nightmare clung to her consciousness—Mark transforming into something crimson and monstrous, tearing through their school after his team's defeat. Behind her closed eyes, she still saw the unnatural bulge of his muscles, the hellish glow of his eyes. A stark reminder that she wasn't the only predator stalking Moon Valley's streets.

  Her phone buzzed. Kevin's message blinked on the screen: Dr. Turner's house empty. No sign of Mark either. Probably out of town. Meet at Salina's in 20?

  Her thumb tapped a quick reply before she moved to the bathroom. Cold water splashed against her face, but it did nothing to calm the amber flecks already appearing in her irises. The mirror showed what everyone at school saw—blonde hair, blue eyes, the lean build of a dedicated cheerleader. What it couldn't reveal was the coiled presence beneath her skin, something untamed yet precise, waiting for its moment to emerge.

  Twenty minutes later, she sprinted up Salina's driveway. The modest two-story house stood apart from its neighbors, surrounded by a garden originally planted for Salina's grandmother's enjoyment. Until Salina discovered those innocent-looking herbs harbored magical properties for her increasingly complex brews.

  Kevin opened the door before her knuckles met wood, worry carving lines across his dark face.

  "About time," he said, but the words carried no bite. He stepped aside to let her pass. "Salina's upstairs. Been glued to police reports all morning."

  Climbing the stairs behind Kevin, Jessica parsed the air's complex chemistry—sage, cinnamon, something bitter and medicinal that made her wolf-self bristle. Salina had transformed her bedroom since Jessica's last visit. Black curtains filtered the sunlight to a dim glow, band posters crowded the walls, and crystals of varying sizes occupied every surface, catching what little light remained.

  Salina sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop balanced on her knees, her face lit by the screen's blue glow. She didn't look up when they entered.

  "Three property damage reports overnight," she announced without greeting. "Something ripped Johnson's fence apart, shattered the hardware store's front window, and flipped a car in the municipal lot." She glanced up, one eyebrow arched. "So much for Mark having his transformation 'under control.'"

  "Any witnesses?" Jessica perched on the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking under her weight.

  Salina's black hair swung as she shook her head. "Just one, claiming it was 'some kind of animal.' Your dad's leading the investigation."

  At the mention of her father, acid rose in Jessica's throat. She found herself unconsciously checking the window for escape routes—an old habit to investigate strange happenings. Sheriff Daniel Tumblerlee had spent nearly two decades hunting criminals across three counties. How long before those finely-honed instincts led him to the monster living under his own roof? She'd managed to conceal her condition since that night in the woods, but with Mark's rampage drawing attention, her time might be running short.

  "We need to find Mark before Dad connects the dots," Jessica said, scraping her hair back from her face, fighting the urge to pace. "Another monster sighting will have everyone looking sideways at their neighbors."

  "No offense, Jessica," Kevin said, adjusting his glasses, "but your condition is practically elegant compared to whatever Mark's becoming. That serum is turning him into something..." He trailed off, searching for words accurate enough.

  "Unrefined," Salina filled in, snapping her laptop closed with finality. "Your transformation follows rules we understand. My tincture gives you control. Mark's condition seems governed only by escalation."

  Jessica stopped moving. "If you were transforming uncontrollably, where would you hide?"

  Kevin and Salina exchanged glances weighted with unspoken communication.

  "Somewhere isolated," Kevin offered. "Somewhere, the collateral damage would be minimal."

  Jessica's phone erupted with the distinct tone she'd assigned to the cheerleading group chat. Some primal instinct made her check the screen instead of ignoring it.

  Tiffany: OMG did anyone else hear that? Something's going crazy downtown! Amber: My dad says stay inside. Police EVERYWHERE.

  A predatory stillness settled over Jessica, her senses immediately sharpening as they did before a hunt. She turned the phone so her friends could see.

  "Downtown," she said, already moving toward the door. "He's exposed himself."

  They piled into Kevin's car, Jessica claiming shotgun while Salina sprawled across the back seat, still monitoring social media for updates.

  "Main Street's completely shut down," Salina reported as Kevin took a corner too quickly. "People are saying something attacked the pharmacy."

  Kevin's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. Jessica caught the distant wail of sirens long before her human companions could—one of the few advantages to her condition.

  Three blocks from Main Street, police barricades forced them to abandon the car. Officers turned civilians away from the scene, voices tense with controlled urgency. Jessica led her friends down an alley that would bypass the roadblocks, a route she'd discovered during one of her night runs.

  The destruction that greeted them stole the breath from her lungs. The pharmacy's front window shattered, glass fragments glittering across the sidewalk like cruel stars. Prescription bottles were scattered in chaotic patterns. Someone—something—had wrenched a fire hydrant from the ground, creating an improvised fountain that soaked everything within thirty feet. And there, amid the chaos, stood Sheriff Daniel, his broad shoulders rigid as he directed his deputies with sharp, economical gestures.

  Jessica ducked behind a parked car, pulling Kevin and Salina down beside her. Her father would ground her until graduation if he caught her this close to an active crime scene.

  "What's happening?" Salina whispered, peering between two vehicles.

  Jessica focused, filtering out background noise until her father's gruff voice emerged with unnatural clarity.

  "Dad's telling them it was probably teenagers on drugs," she translated, a humorless smile twisting her lips. "Classic denial. Always hunting for the rational explanation."

  "Technically, he's not completely wrong," Kevin pointed out. "Mark did take something, just not the kind you buy behind the bleachers."

  A deputy approached Sheriff Daniel, holding something in an evidence bag. Jessica strained to see what it was.

  "Claw marks," her father said, loud enough that even Kevin and Salina caught it. "Like a bear, but...bigger."

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  Jessica's pulse quickened to a hunter's rhythm, her chest tight with the dual instincts to flee and pursue. If her father started hunting for oversized predators in Moon Valley, how long before that investigation led straight to her?

  "We need to move," she urged, already backing away. "Mark's gone, but he can't have gotten far."

  They retreated down the alley, circling around the police blockade. Main Street stood eerily deserted, most locals having heeded warnings to stay inside. They followed Mark's trail—overturned trash cans, gouges in brick walls, a bench torn from its concrete anchors—like macabre breadcrumbs leading away from downtown.

  The destruction led east, toward the abandoned edges of town where empty buildings testified to Moon Valley's faded prosperity. The old gas station at the crossroads had been closed for years, its pumps removed and windows boarded over.

  "There," Kevin said suddenly, pointing at the crumbling structure. "The back door's been ripped clean off."

  Jessica sampled the air, separating its components like her father might separate suspects in an investigation. Motor oil. Mildew. And underneath it all, a chemical tang that set her wolf-self bristling—something that smelled like hospital corridors and decomposition mixed into human sweat.

  "He's inside," she confirmed, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "I can smell him."

  "What's the plan?" Salina asked, sarcasm momentarily replaced by genuine concern. "We can't exactly knock and offer him a spa day to calm down."

  Jessica inhaled deeply. "You two keep back. I'll try reasoning with him. If anything of Mark still exists in there, I might reach it."

  "And if there's nothing left to reach?" Kevin's voice cracked on the final word.

  Jessica met his eyes but offered no answer. Some questions had no comforting replies.

  The abandoned station reeked of decades-old gasoline, rot, and something newer—fear. Jessica glided across the cracked concrete floor, her cheerleader's grace masking each footfall. Sunlight filtered through ceiling holes, creating islands of light in the shadow sea.

  A low growl froze her in place—animal, yet with horrifying human undertones.

  "Mark?" she called, pitching her voice to carry without aggression. "It's Jessica from school. I understand what's happening to you. I want to help."

  Something massive shifted in the building's rear shadows. Yellow eyes ignited like twin embers in the darkness.

  "No help," grated a voice barely recognizable as human, let alone as Mark's. "No stopping it now."

  Jessica advanced one careful step, entering a pool of light. She kept her hands visible, projecting calm she didn't feel.

  "We found your dad's notes," she lied, hoping to engage whatever rational mind remained. "There might be a way to reverse the serum's effects."

  The hulking shape lunged with startling speed, stepping into the light. Jessica fought to control her expression.

  Mark had once epitomized the all-American athlete—handsome, strong, confident. The creature before her retained only the vaguest suggestion of that boy. His skin glowed an angry crimson, stretched over muscles that had doubled, perhaps tripled in size. Dark veins mapped his scalp like disturbing rivers. His jaw had elongated into a chisel square, revealing teeth too large and sharp for any human mouth.

  Only his eyes—yellow where they should be white, but with Mark's blue irises at their center—suggested this was once someone she'd known.

  "Liar," he snarled, advancing another step. "No cure. Dad said... permanent."

  Jessica's hope faltered. Had Dr. Turner known all along what he was creating? Had he searched for a solution and failed?

  "Then let us help you control it," she tried another approach. "I know what it's like to harbor something wild inside you. You can learn to coexist with it, Mark."

  Something flickered in those inhuman eyes—a spark of recognition, perhaps even hope. Then it vanished, swallowed by primal rage.

  "Not... like... you," Mark growled, each word seeming to cause him physical pain. "Getting... stronger. Hungrier."

  Without warning, he charged. He moved faster than any human should, faster even than she could in her human form. Jessica barely braced herself before his massive body slammed into hers, sending them both crashing through a rotting display case.

  Pain exploded across her back as wood splinters drove into her skin. Her instincts screamed for transformation, demanded she meet this threat with equal force. She fought the urge—shifting completely in daylight would expose everything.

  But as Mark's massive hands closed around her throat, Jessica realized half-measures wouldn't save her. She couldn't fight him as a human.

  She released control first to her eyes, feeling the familiar burn as they shifted from blue to amber. Her nails lengthened into claws, razor-sharp yet precise enough to slice through Mark's thickened skin when she raked them across his forearm.

  He roared, pain and surprise forcing his grip to loosen. Jessica kicked upward, launching him off her with strength no ordinary cheerleader should possess. He crashed into the ceiling, bringing down a shower of plaster before landing heavily on his feet.

  Jessica rolled to standing, her partial transformation stabilizing. Fur sprouted along her jawline and forearms, her teeth sharpened to points, but she maintained her mostly human appearance—the most she dared change without risking a complete shift.

  "See?" she said, extending clawed hands. "I understand this, Mark. I live with it every day."

  The demonstration seemed to reach him. Mark stared, rage temporarily derailed by confusion. He stepped forward hesitantly, his movements less aggressive, more curious.

  "Jessica?" he said, and for the first time since they'd found him, he sounded like himself—scared, confused, and unmistakably human.

  "Yes," she encouraged, relaxing her stance. "It's me. Let us help you find balance."

  Mark examined his enlarged red hands, the claws that had replaced his fingernails. Horror dawned across his distorted features as awareness returned.

  "What have I done?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "The pharmacy... I just wanted something for the pain. I didn't mean to—"

  A sharp crack cut his words short as part of the damaged ceiling gave way, crashing down behind Jessica. The noise shattered his fragile clarity. Mark's head snapped up, pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the blue.

  "Run," he gasped, muscles spasming as something else fought for control. "CAN'T... HOLD IT... BACK!"

  Jessica reached for him, but too late. With a roar that vibrated through the building's foundation, Mark crashed through the wall and disappeared into the woods behind the station, moving so fast he blurred into a crimson streak.

  "Jessica!" Kevin's voice called from outside. "Are you okay?"

  She forced back her partial transformation, willing the fur to recede and claws to retract. By the time Kevin and Salina burst through the doorway, she appeared human again—despite the cuts and bruises already knitting themselves closed across her skin.

  "What happened?" Salina demanded, helping Jessica climb over the splintered remains of the display case. "We heard fighting, and then—"

  "I almost reached him," Jessica interrupted, brushing debris from her clothes. "For a moment, he was Mark again. Then he lost control."

  Kevin surveyed the devastation—the smashed case, the wall with its Mark-shaped hole, the crumbling ceiling. "At least he didn't kill you. Which he clearly could have," he added, eyeing the rapidly healing wounds on Jessica's arms.

  "Werewolf healing," she reminded him with a grim smile. "One of the few perks when facing chemically enhanced rage monsters."

  "Speaking of which," Salina said, pointing through the hole Mark had left, "we should probably exit before the police follow the destruction breadcrumbs here."

  Jessica nodded, but as they moved toward the door, her ears caught the distinctive crunch of tires on gravel outside.

  "Too late," she murmured, recognizing the particular sound of her father's cruiser. "Dad's here."

  They froze as footsteps approached, heavy and deliberate. Sheriff Daniel Tumblerlee's imposing figure filled the doorway, his weathered face hardening as he took in the devastation. His eyes widened when he spotted Jessica among the rubble.

  "Jessica Tumblerlee," he said, his voice deceptively calm, "what the hell are you doing here?"

  Jessica exchanged panicked glances with Kevin and Salina. Before she could fabricate an excuse, her father's attention shifted to something on the ground. He knelt, running his fingers along deep gouges in the concrete floor.

  "Claw marks," he muttered, more to himself than them. "Just like downtown. And bigger than anything native to these parts."

  His gaze tracked to the wall's gaping hole, then to the footprints pressed into the dirt outside—massive, inhuman impressions that defied rational explanation.

  When Sheriff Daniel looked back at Jessica, his expression had transformed. The angry father had vanished, replaced by the calculating lawman who'd solved more cases than anyone in the county's history.

  "You three know something," he stated flatly. It wasn't a question. "And you're going to tell me exactly what's happening in my town."

  Jessica felt her other self stir restlessly beneath her skin. Her father stood one revelation away from uncovering not just Mark's secret, but potentially her own. As Sheriff Daniel stared her down, awaiting explanation, Jessica realized her dual existence was balancing on a knife's edge.

  The line separating her two worlds had grown paper-thin, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could walk it.