Chapter 47 FOURTY seven
The gym buzzed with the familiar chaos of sport time. Sneakers squeaked against polished wood, balls thumped in steady rhythms, and shouts bounced off the high ceilings. The tenth graders had the court for the next hour, and the energy was high—boys jostling, laughing, trash-talking each other between shots. In the middle of it all sat Koda and Kai on the bottom bleacher, shoulders almost touching.
Kai leaned in slightly, voice low but easy, like he was trying to pull his brother back into the normal world.
“…so yeah, Coach said if we win the next two scrimmages, we’re basically locked for varsity next season. You should’ve seen Scott’s face when he missed that layup. Looked like someone kicked his puppy.” Kai chuckled, nudging Koda’s arm. “You listening, man? Or you planning world domination again?”
Koda—or the thing wearing Koda’s skin—didn’t answer right away. His eyes were fixed across the gym, locked on Harper like she was the only thing worth seeing. She stood near the water fountain with Catherine and a couple other girls, laughing at something Catherine said. Her ponytail swung, her smile flashed bright and real, and every time she tossed her head back, The One felt something twist inside the borrowed chest. Not soft. Not sweet. Just hungry.
Kai followed his gaze. Sighed quietly.
“She’s fine, Koda. Let her breathe for five minutes.”
The One finally blinked. Turned his head just enough to glance at Kai.
“She’s laughing,” he said flatly. Like it was an observation. Like it annoyed him.
Kai raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. He still believed—mostly—that this was Koda. The coldness, the distance, the occasional flash of something darker… he told himself it was trauma from the bloom ceremony. The Moon Goddess’s words. The stress. Koda would snap out of it eventually. He had to.
“Kai! Koda! Come join us!” Scott yelled from mid-court, waving both arms. “We’re down two shooters!”
Kai stood immediately, stretching his arms over his head. “Coming!”
The One stayed seated. Didn’t even twitch.
Then—
A basketball came flying from the far end of the court. Hard. Fast. Aimed straight at his head.
The gym erupted.
“Koda! Duck!”
“Watch out!”
Harper’s head snapped up mid-laugh. Her eyes found his across the crowded space. Time seemed to stretch.
The ball was inches away.
Without breaking eye contact with her, The One lifted one hand.
Fingers closed around leather.
Thwap.
Perfect catch. Clean. Effortless.
The gym went dead quiet for half a heartbeat.
Then exploded.
Claps. Whistles. Shouts of “What the hell?!” and “Did you see that?!”
Scott’s jaw dropped.
Kai stared.
Harper’s lips parted. She didn’t clap. She just watched him, eyes wide, something flickering behind them—worry, awe, a spark of heat she didn’t want to name.
The One stood slowly. Still holding the ball. Still looking only at her.
“I’ll play,” he said. Voice calm. Almost bored.
He walked onto the court like gravity didn’t apply to him.
The game restarted fast. He moved like he’d been born on the hardwood—quick cuts, impossible crossovers, dunks so clean they looked rehearsed. Every time he scored, the crowd roared louder. Every time he stole the ball, the other team flinched.
Kai kept stealing glances at him. Uneasy. But he told himself it was just Koda showing off. Koda being Koda. The old Koda used to dominate like this too… right?
Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Harper leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to focus on Catherine’s chatter.
“Girl, those Blackthorn boys are insane today,” Catherine said, eyes glued to the court. “Kai’s smooth as hell, but Koda? He’s playing like he’s possessed. Look at that crossover—damn. They’re so cool it’s unfair.”
Harper forced a small smile. “Yeah. Intense.”
Catherine grinned wider. “Intense is an understatement. The way they move? It’s like they’re in their own world. Everyone’s staring. Even the coaches look impressed.”
Harper’s stomach twisted. She wondered—not for the first time—what Catherine would say if she knew the full truth. That the boy dominating the court right now wasn’t really Koda anymore. That something ancient and violent lived behind his eyes. That she kissed him anyway. That she stopped him from killing people anyway. That she was terrified and drawn to him in equal measure.
Before she could answer, the gym doors banged open.
A group of eleventh graders stormed in—letterman jackets, broad shoulders, bad attitudes. They shoved through the crowd like they owned the place.
“Hey, tenth graders!” the leader barked.
Harper looked over. Her pulse kicked up.
Kai turned. “Us?”
The red-haired guy in front sneered. “Who else are the losers in the room?”
Another boy behind him growled—low, wolfish—teeth flashing longer than human. He dragged a smaller kid forward by the collar. The boy was a mess: face swollen, shirt ripped, deep claw marks raking down his arms and chest. Blood still fresh.
“You dare hurt one of our boys?” Red-hair snarled.
Kai looked at Scott.
Scott raised both hands. “I had to, man. He was trying to bully Thomas. Cornered him in the locker room. Wouldn’t stop swinging. I shifted—just a little—to get him off.”
Kai groaned. “Scott…”
The One didn’t even glance over. He bounced the ball once. Casually. Eyes drifting back toward Harper.
“Are we still playing?” he asked. Flat. Completely uninterested.
The eleventh graders bristled.
Red-hair—Ryan—stepped forward, veins popping in his neck. “Hey, Blackthorns. You really think you’re special, huh? Just because your dad runs his own pack doesn’t mean you can talk to us however you want.”
His friends murmured. One cracked his knuckles. Another growled again.
Koda turned slowly. Finally looked at Ryan.
“And who the hell are you?”
The words came out quiet. Almost polite. But the tone underneath was ice.
Ryan’s face turned purple.
“You little—”
He snatched a ball from the floor. Wound up fast. Threw it with all his strength—straight at Koda’s head.
It hit.
Hard.
Crack.
Right against the temple.
Gasps ripped through the gym.
Harper jerked forward instinctively. “Koda!”
Kai tensed, fists clenching.
The ball bounced away, rolling into the shadows.
Silence.
Then—
The One lifted his head.
A thin trickle of blood slid down from his temple, over his cheekbone. He licked it off the corner of his mouth. Tasted metal and smiled.
Slow.
Devilish.
Fangs glinted for half a second—too fast for most to catch, but Harper saw.
“My turn.”