Chapter 48 Forty eight
The gym had gone from chaotic noise to stunned silence in the space of a single heartbeat.
The One gripped the basketball in one hand. His fingers dug into the leather like claws. Without winding up, without even shifting his weight properly, he flicked his wrist.
The ball launched like a cannon shot.
It struck Ryan square in the chest.
Not a normal hit. The impact was brutal—unnatural. Ryan’s body jerked backward as if an invisible truck had slammed into him. His feet left the floor. He flew—actually flew—ten, twelve feet through the air before crashing into the far wall with a thunderous bang that rattled the scoreboard and cracked the paint.
Dust drifted down from the impact point.
Everyone’s eyes went wide.
Ryan slid to the floor in a heap, gasping, clutching his ribs.
Then the gym exploded again.
“Woah, Koda! You have amazing strength!” Scott yelled, clapping hard enough that his palms turned red. “That was insane!”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd like wind over water.
“Did you see how far he went?”
“That wasn’t human.”
“He didn’t even try.”
Harper stood frozen near the sidelines. Her heart hammered so loud she could barely hear the voices around her. Catherine grabbed her arm, eyes huge. “Did he just… throw him with a basketball?”
Harper didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her gaze was locked on The One.
He hadn’t moved. Still stood in the center of the court, head tilted slightly, watching Ryan struggle to his feet with the help of his friends.
Ryan coughed—wet, ragged. Blood flecked his lips. He shoved his friends away and straightened, eyes blazing yellow. Wolf eyes.
“You’ll pay for this, Koda,” he snarled.
Bones cracked. Fur rippled across his skin in a wave. In seconds he was fully shifted—massive gray wolf, hackles raised, teeth bared. Saliva dripped from his jaws. He lowered his head and charged.
Straight at The One.
The wolf moved fast—blindingly fast for a high-school hallway brawl. Claws scraped hardwood. Growls filled the gym.
The One didn’t flinch.
Didn’t shift.
He simply waited.
When Ryan leaped—mouth open, aiming for the throat—The One’s hand snapped up.
Fingers closed around the wolf’s thick neck mid-air.
He lifted.
Ryan’s hind legs kicked uselessly. A strangled yelp escaped his throat. The massive wolf—easily two hundred pounds in shifted form—dangled like a puppy from The One’s single arm.
Kai’s mouth fell open.
He stared at his brother—no shift, no claws, no growl. Just raw, impossible strength.
“How…?” Kai breathed.
Harper’s stomach dropped.
She saw it—the faint shimmer at the edges of Koda’s irises. Not red yet. Not black. But close. Too close.
If those eyes went full demon-black in front of everyone…
The One walked forward slowly. Deliberate steps. Ryan’s wolf form whimpered—high, panicked. Paws scrabbled against nothing.
The One reached the center of the court.
He lifted the wolf higher.
Ryan’s body shuddered. Bones popped again. Fur receded in patches. In seconds the shift reversed—forced, painful.
Ryan hung naked in The One’s grip. Human again. Bruised. Bleeding. Legs dangling. Face pale with terror.
A wave of “eww” and awkward laughs rolled through the crowd. Phones were still up. Some kids turned away. Others stared, shocked.
Ryan struggled—weak punches, kicking feet—but The One’s arm didn’t budge. Not even a tremor.
The One opened his mouth.
Teeth glinted—sharper than they should be.
His eyes changed.
Black.
Pure black. No white. No pupil. Just endless void.
Only Harper and Ryan could see it from that angle. Ryan’s eyes widened in pure animal fear. He stopped struggling. Just hung there, trembling.
Harper moved before she could think.
She pushed through the crowd—ignoring Catherine’s “Harper, wait!”—and reached The One in three strides.
She grabbed his free arm.
“That’s enough.”
The One’s head turned slowly. Black eyes locked on her.
“But I’m hungry for blood,” he said. Voice low. Rough. Not entirely Koda’s anymore.
Harper’s fingers tightened on his forearm. “Please. Drop him. Koda. Everyone is watching.”
“I don’t care.”
He turned back to Ryan.
The boy was shaking so hard his teeth chattered. Legs kicked weakly. Naked. Exposed. Terrified.
“I want your soul,” The One said softly. Almost lovingly. “It’s been so long since I had one.”
His mouth opened wider.
Harper stepped closer. Pressed her body against his side. Wrapped both hands around the arm holding Ryan.
“Please,” she whispered. Not loud. Not for the crowd. Just for him. “Don’t.”
The black in his eyes flickered.
Frowned—deep, angry lines between his brows.
For one endless second, nothing happened.
Then—
He opened his fingers.
Ryan dropped like a stone. Hit the floor hard. Curled into a ball. Gasping. Coughing. Alive.
The One turned fully to Harper.
His eyes were still black—but the void was retreating. Slowly. Like ink bleeding out of water.
“Come with me,” he said.
He took her hand.
Not gentle.
Not asking.
Just closed his fingers around hers and pulled.
Harper didn’t resist.
She let him drag her across the court—past stunned faces, past dropped phones, past Scott’s open mouth and Kai’s frozen shock.
They passed through the double doors.
The gym noise faded behind them.
They moved fast down the empty hallway. Sneakers squeaking. Her hand tight in his.