The door barely shut behind him before Adara swooped in, arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked in full big sister on a mission mode.
“Well look who finally strolls in,” she teased, tone all light and pointed. “Where were you, huh? Out late with some mysterious ‘friend’ you won’t tell me about? Spill it, Ash.”
Asher dropped his bag by the door and gave her his most innocent look, which only made her narrow her eyes further. “Just… hanging out,” he said vaguely, kicking off his shoes. “You don’t need the full play-by-play, Ada.”
“Oh-ho, so now you’re being all cryptic? Uh-huh.” She smirked and leaned in, poking his shoulder. “Your vibes are all different. I know you. Don’t think you’re getting away with this.”
Asher rolled his eyes, moving past her toward the hall. “Maybe I just don’t feel like being grilled tonight.”
Before she could pry further, Adara’s expression shifted—more serious now. “Oh, speaking of being grilled… Dad found out about detention.”
Asher froze halfway down the hall, shoulders tensing. “…And?”
“And,” she said with a little wince, “he’s laying down the law. No car for the week. We either take the bus or hitch a ride with somebody.”
Asher groaned. “Ugh, seriously?”
Adara crossed her arms, smug now. “Yup. So tomorrow morning, unless you’re pedaling that bike of yours, you better have a plan.”
Asher sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, since you like to sleep in super late, maybe you should just ask Crys for a ride.”That earned him a sharp smack to the arm. “Oh, no you didn’t!” she gasped dramatically.
Grinning, Asher rubbed the spot, feigning injury. “Ow! What was that for?”
“I’ll show you,” Adara said, sticking her tongue out. “I’m getting there ahead of you tomorrow, bike or no bike!”
Asher’s laugh followed him down the hall as he grabbed a towel. “Sure you will.”
---
Later, freshly showered and half-asleep, Asher dropped into bed. His phone buzzed once on the nightstand. He thumbed it open, grin spreading when he saw Nathan’s reply waiting for him:
> Night. Golden Boy.
Simple. Sharp. Somehow perfect.
Asher’s wolf purred in satisfaction. He read it twice, then set the phone down and slipped into sleep with a rare, easy calm.
---
The next morning, Asher’s alarm cut through the dark before dawn. He was up and lacing his sneakers for his run while the house was still quiet, pounding out miles on the cool, mist-damp streets until the sky started to pink at the edges.
By the time he rolled his bike into the school parking lot, his hair was damp with sweat and his muscles warm, a good edge to start the day. He locked it up, leaned back, and waited.
Ten minutes later, Adara’s ride screeched into the lot. She hopped out and spotted him instantly. Her face fell into a dramatic scowl.
“Don’t you dare say it!” she barked, finger already wagging.
Asher’s chuckle was low and smug. “Didn’t have to. It’s all over your face.”
She huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and stomping toward the school doors. “Whatever, Ash.”
Still grinning, Asher fell into step beside her, his golden eyes already scanning the hall ahead. He wasn’t looking for trouble this time, though his wolf prowled just under his skin.
He was looking for them—Nathan’s familiar dark hoodie, Alastor’s quiet shadow nearby.
-----The ride to school was a blur of nervous energy and stolen smiles at the thought of seeing Rook again.
When the bus hissed to a stop, Cosmo leapt off and darted toward the school doors, clutching his bag close. The hallway buzzed with morning chaos—lockers slamming, voices overlapping—but his focus was only on one thing.
His eyes scanned the crowd, sharp and eager, looking for a familiar messy-haired skater boy as he made his way to his locker.
The moment he spotted Rook, Cosmo’s whole face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds.Cosmo spotted Rook leaning against his locker, skateboard tucked under one arm, and immediately beelined toward him—practically vibrating with energy.
“There you are!” he blurted, a little breathless from weaving through the crowd. His face was bright, half-hidden under the hood of his sweatshirt, but his grin gave him away.
“So, um—Bubbe officially issued the invite this morning.” The words tumbled out in a rush, hands flapping for emphasis. “Like, her exact words were that if you want more cookies, you have to come over and help bake the next batch. Which, y’know, is her very subtle way of saying she wants to meet you.”
Cosmo’s ears went pink even as he forged ahead, his excitement outpacing his embarrassment. “Also! She sent food for us to share.” He swung his backpack around and patted the bulging pocket where the lunch was stashed. The warm, savory smell was already seeping through the paper bag.
“It’s probably brisket sandwiches,” he said with a dreamy sigh, clearly a fan of the dish himself. “She makes the best brisket ever. Like… melt-in-your-mouth, change-your-life-level brisket.”
He bounced on his toes, practically glowing as he met Rook’s eyes. “So, uh… lunch is basically gonna be amazing today. Just saying.”
Cosmo’s voice dipped a little, sheepish but still hopeful. “And… maybe after school, we can talk about date three?” His grin widened, nervous but thrilled, like the words themselves were a promise he couldn’t wait to keep.
--Fin--Sleep hit Nathan like a blackout; when it finally let him go, the alarm felt like a punch. He scraped himself out of bed and did the morning circuit on autopilot—containers labeled and stacked in the fridge, meds set out by the chipped mug, Babushka coaxed upright with tea and a kiss to the crown of her head.
“Call me if you need me,” he murmured. She swatted him away with a fond “Go, go—be brilliant,” and that was enough to get him to the door.
He pushed off on his board, the air knife-cold and clean. It should’ve cleared him. It didn’t.
By the time he hit the quad, the static already had a name.
Rumors travel faster than bells. He caught snatches—violent, grabby, boys, bathroom—his name slotted into uglier sentences like a blade. Alastor’s too. The nausea was instant and chemical. He didn’t need to guess the source; Donovan always did prefer a crowd to swing from.
Nathan kept his head down and his hands steady. Locker. Books. Breathe. The metal door was safer than faces.
A flash of gold in his peripheral—Asher with Adara, easy stride, damp hair from a run. Relief and dread slammed into each other in Nathan’s chest. Say something, his better sense urged. But the ground felt tilted, like one wrong word would send him skidding.
He closed the locker softly and leaned his shoulder against it, letting the cool bite through his hoodie, letting himself have five silent seconds before the day demanded blood.
---The roll to school was quiet; Nathan’s wheels hummed beside his and said more than either of them felt like saying. Inside, the noise sharpened—gossip like broken glass. Rook heard Nathan’s name first, then Alastor’s, then his own and Asher’s floating on the edges, and something mean in him went very, very still.
He planted himself near Nathan’s locker anyway—just a shadow with a board and a don’t-try-it stare—until a different kind of brightness cut through the hall.
Cosmo.
Bubbe, cookies, brisket, baking invitations—Cosmo tumbled all of it out like confetti, and Rook felt his jaw unclench without permission.
He tipped his chin, grin sliding in. “Tell Bubbe I can wield a whisk and a wooden spoon like a pro. I’m in.”
Then, lower—just for Cosmo—“And yeah, date three’s already set. Tonight, if you’re up for it.” A quick, conspiratorial flick of his eyes toward the roofline outside. “Bring that stargazer brain. I’ll bring the view.”
He let his knuckles brush Cosmo’s backpack in passing—quick, secret—and then shot a look back down the hall, gaze hardening as another ugly whisper rippled past.
“Lunch is ours,” he added, voice easy again but edged with intent. “Brisket diplomacy at noon. After school, we bounce.”
The grin came back for Cosmo alone. “Try not to make me fall in love with your grandmother’s cooking in one day.”
And then he settled again at Nathan’s six, casual as a lamppost, the kind that happens to light up trouble before it gets too close.Alastor emerged from the bathroom after spending part of the morning there, his presence marked by the sharp scent of cologne masking the faint trace of smoke. Sliding effortlessly between Asher and Adara, he greeted with a casual, "Morning, sunspot."
As the murmur of voices carried his name along with another—Nathan—entwined in some rumor about being overly familiar with Donovan, Alastor resisted the urge to engage. He knew better than to fuel the gossip mill.
Turning his attention to Asher, he asked with a mild grin, "Did you and ojos azules have a good talk?" Despite a simmering unease and a quiet rage about the school, Asher exuded a surprising calmness, even a hint of happiness. His demeanor was noticeably lighter than usual, punctuated with more chuckles than solemnity.
Alastor was trying to keep himself together given the rage he was feeling-it seemed to simmer among the students. They varied but the more intense ones seemed to be those connected to blaze or close to Donovan- or even a fan.
“No alimentes la máquina de rumores hoy...blaze gotta new amigo.. ignore, and try to not react.” He told him. He saw Nathan to get a smile and make his way to him, Cosmo,and rook.
“Mornin amigos, que pasa?” He asked as he got into step.
—fin—Asher’s brow furrowed at Alastor’s smooth greeting.
“Sunspot? Me?” he echoed, incredulous, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “What does that make you, Mr. Shadow?”
Adara snorted, shaking her head as she shoved her locker closed with a sharp clang.
“Morning, Alastor,” she said with an easy grin before jerking a thumb toward her brother. “Ignore him—he’s still on a high from his homework date with Nathan last night.”
Asher’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “It wasn’t a date!” he protested, the tips of his ears going bright red. The way his voice
**** on date didn’t help his case at all.
Adara just smirked like the cat that caught the canary.
Asher groaned, rubbing the back of his neck before adding quickly, “Last night… went well.” His tone was deliberately vague, dodging details like landmines.The warning in Spanish had Asher frowning slightly, not quite understanding. He was about to ask what he’d meant when another sound ripped through—clear, cruel, unmistakable.
Nathan’s name.
The insult rolled out like poison, his old teammate spitting it through a smirk.
“Figures. Trash hangs with trash. Should’ve known Nathan couldn’t keep his hands to himself—probably teaching Alastor how to—”
Asher didn’t hear the rest. His wolf surged like wildfire, golden eyes burning under his human skin. The words barely registered, just raw intent: **Pack. Threat. Defend.**
His feet moved before thought caught up, slamming his palm against the lockers right beside the jock’s head. The metallic crack silenced the whole hall. Asher loomed over him, voice low and lethal.
“Say. That. Again.”
The jock’s face paled, but before he could stammer an answer, another voice sliced in—fierce and sharp.
“You really wanna go there, dumbass?”
Adara.She stormed forward, small but fierce, braid swinging like a battle flag. With surprising force, she shoved the much larger boy against the lockers.
“You think running your mouth makes you a man?” she snarled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “All you’re proving is you’ve got nothing between your ears.”
Her voice carried, biting through the air.
“You don’t ever get to spread lies about people who are ten times better than you. Keep Nathan’s name—and anyone else’s—out of your mouth, or you’ll regret it.”
The jock sputtered, face red. “Y-yeah, whatever,” he muttered before bolting, tail tucked.
Asher stayed tense, his wolf pacing under his skin, but he forced himself to breathe. Adara shot him a cocky smirk as she dusted off her hands.
“See? You’re not the only scary one in the family.”Cosmo was still bubbling with energy when he noticed Alastor walking over to stand beside them. Cosmo quickly pivoted, fumbling a bit as he tried out the Spanish he’d been practicing.
“Uh—Buenos días, Alastor,” he said carefully, then winced with an awkward laugh. “Sorry if I butchered that.”
Before Alastor could reply, Cosmo’s attention snagged on the sudden, sharp crack of a locker slamming down the hall. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Asher pinning a jock with pure alpha fury, while Adara stood in front of them like a storm with teeth, tearing into the bully with righteous rage.
Cosmo froze for half a second, startled by the intensity of it, then instinctively slid closer to Rook, his shoulder brushing the skateboarder’s arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. His voice dropped a little, nervous energy giving way to tentative hope.
“So, uh… maybe this weekend,” he said, quieter now, “you all might wanna come blow up some rockets with me? Science club thing. Totally safe… mostly.”
His attempt at levity came with a small, sheepish smile, clearly trying to shift the mood back toward something lighter—even as his eyes kept flicking to where Asher and Adara had just scared the life out of half the hallway.
-Fin-Nathan clocked the crash of metal and the way the hallway went silent around Asher. He didn’t move—just watched, chin tipped down, letting the heat in his chest settle into something steadier. When the jock bolted and Asher’s shoulders eased, Nathan dragged his gaze away before it could show too much and shut his locker with a clean, final click.
“Morning,” he echoed, flat on the surface, but the corner of his mouth tugged like he couldn’t quite smother the satisfaction. He gave Asher a small nod he pretended was for no one in particular, then turned back to Cosmo and Rook.
Rook lit up at the word rockets like someone had handed him fireworks. He bumped Cosmo’s shoulder, grin wide. “Explode things safely with my favorite scientist? Obviously yes. I’ll bring duct tape, a blanket, and whatever snacks your Bubbe will forgive me for eating in bulk.”
Nathan huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. “Text me the details,” he said, voice low, eyes already skimming the hall again. “If I ghost, don’t wait on me. I’ve got… stuff.” A beat. “But I’ll try.”
He slid a pair of beat-up goggles from his bag and tossed them to Cosmo without looking. “For when ‘totally safe… mostly’ turns into definitely wear eye protection.”
Rook leaned in, softer now, boot nudging Cosmo’s. “Lunch is still ours. And stargazing plans? Not canceled.” He tipped his head toward the quad. “Meet me after last bell—we’ll plot trajectories and cookie theft.”
Nathan shouldered his bag, the set of his jaw calm again. “See you,” he said, and peeled off into the flow of students—armor back on, but lighter than it had been five minutes ago.
-fin-Alastor chuckled softly, ready to reassure asher that he had done fine, when his shoulders tensed at the sudden crash echoing nearby. His gaze snapped back to Asher, sharp with curiosity. "Mm, things go boom outside? Now you’re listening," Alastor joked lightly, attempting to ease the tension. His eyes then drifted to Nathan, who was scanning the halls, though Alastor couldn’t quite tell what he was looking for.
Shaking it off, Alastor moved on to his next class, brushing shoulders with Blaze in the hallway. The brief contact sparked a quick glance and a cold glare before they continued on their separate paths. The day unfolded with its usual chatter and clamor, but one thing nagged at the back of his mind—Donovan and Blaze. Something felt off. Alastor knew Blaze wasn’t exactly eloquent; he was more likely to rely on his fists than his words.
By lunchtime, the atmosphere felt different—tense, even. Blaze’s clique seemed oddly closer to Donovan’s group, who sat quietly eating. A blond girl among them appeared deeply focused, her furrowed brow betraying her concentration. Alastor noticed Donovan’s sudden lean in and a look of surprise crossing the girls face. Straining to listen, he caught faint words: "thinking," "next level." His curiosity deepened; something was definitely up.
He was tucked in a normal part of his lunch- sort of hidden away and lighting up where the teachers couldn’t see him. He needed this today. It felt stormy- and particularly with the words flying around. Made him that much more wary.
—fin—Cosmo’s face went pink at Rook’s talk of stargazing and cookie theft, his grin wide enough to be ridiculous. He gave Nathan a small, grateful nod for the goggles, clutching them to his chest like a prized relic.
“You guys are seriously the best,” he said, voice bubbling with excitement. “I’ll send the group text tonight with all the details. Saturday’s perfect for rocket launches, and don’t worry, Nathan—we’ll keep it safe and low-key.” A sheepish laugh escaped. “Well… as low-key as rockets can be.”
His gaze flicked curiously toward Alastor when the older teen’s joking remark about things going boom reached him. Cosmo’s brows knit briefly in confusion—he didn’t quite get the context, but he caught how Asher seemed to tense up at the sound of it.
“Uh, hasta luego, Al,” he added quickly, careful with his pronunciation. The words were awkward, like a kid balancing on a tightrope. Maybe with practice, he’d finally stop tripping over his Spanish around Alastor.
"See you at lunch!" Cosmo called brightly to Rook, giving him one last grin before hurrying off toward his first class, the bell ringing overhead.
----Asher’s pulse still pounded, anger buzzing beneath his skin, but the sound of Nathan’s calm, simple “Morning”—paired with that small, fleeting smirk—helped the red haze ebb.
He exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders, and gave Adara a look. She only smirked back and patted his arm in a rare show of sisterly comfort before darting off to join her friends.
Asher turned to Alastor at the “boom” joke, shaking his head with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I suppose you could say that,” he murmured back in Spanish, a faint edge in his tone as his golden eyes flashed briefly.
Adara, already halfway down the hall, caught just enough of it to grin like a cat. “A boom, huh? About time, Ash!”
Asher’s ears burned red instantly. “It’s not like that,” he muttered under his breath, but he didn’t dare raise his voice and draw more attention. His gaze slid toward the crowd, settling for a moment on Nathan’s retreating hoodie. His chest eased slightly just seeing him walk away safe, even if he couldn’t explain why.
The bell rang, sharp and insistent, cutting through the remaining tension. Asher let out a sigh, raking a hand through his damp hair, then fell into step beside Adara as they headed to their classes.By the time lunch rolled around, the morning’s edge had dulled, though whispers of gossip still clung stubbornly to the air.
Cosmo, on the other hand, was back to full brightness. The moment he spotted Rook across the cafeteria, his entire face lit up like a flare.
“There he is!” Cosmo grinned, clutching his lunch bag like it was sacred cargo. He wove through the packed tables without hesitation, leaving Asher and Adara to find seats at a quieter table near the back.
Sliding onto the bench across from Rook, Cosmo leaned in eagerly. “Okay, so Bubbe went overboard this morning. I’ve got brisket sandwiches, her famous pickles—basically, a full-on picnic.” His smile softened as he unpacked the food. “She said to share, which is basically her sneaky way of making sure you eat half of it.”
Rook’s grin was probably enough to make Cosmo’s ears turn even redder, but Cosmo ducked his head, pretending to focus on unwrapping the sandwiches.By the time lunch rolled around, the morning’s tension had thinned, but it hadn’t fully burned off. Gossip still clung to the cafeteria like smoke, whispers trailing behind Nathan’s name wherever he went.
Asher grabbed a tray and slid into a seat beside Adara, who was already watching him with a sly, mischievous gleam in her eye. He didn’t even have to look to know she was up to something.
“You know,” she said casually, sipping her soda like it wasn’t loaded ammo, “you could just go sit with him.”
Asher froze mid-motion, a fry halfway to his mouth. “…Excuse me?”
Adara smirked. “Nathan. You’ve been staring at him like a broody lone wolf all morning.” She leaned in just enough to lower her voice. “Go on. Sit with him. Or are you scared?”
The word scared was like a spark to dry tinder. Asher’s wolf immediately bristled, a growl curling low in his chest that only he could hear.
His golden eyes flared, pupils sharp. Ours, his wolf pressed, hot and insistent. Go to him. Now.
“Adara—” he started, trying to shut it down, but his wolf shoved past his hesitation like a force of nature. By the time he realized what he was doing, his body was already moving.He rose from the table, ignoring the burst of surprised chatter that rippled across the cafeteria like a wave. A few kids gasped, others whispered behind their hands—some clearly relishing the drama. Blaze’s cronies at the far table even sat up straighter, their smirks curling into something ugly.
Asher didn’t care. His stride was steady, shoulders squared, his wolf’s possessive hum rattling through his bones. Every instinct screamed to claim space and shield Nathan from the stares, the lies, the poisonous gossip.
Asher slid into the seat opposite Nathan like it was the most natural thing in the world, letting the whispers crash and fade around them. His wolf purred, smug and satisfied.
“So,” Asher began, voice deliberately calm, “got anything planned later? Or this weekend?”
He leaned his forearms on the table, gaze steady on Nathan’s face. “I’ve got a brand-new paper due Monday. Could use a skilled writer to give me some pointers.”
The corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly, a glimmer of challenge beneath the words. “What do you say? You up for helping me not fail English?”
The cafeteria buzzed louder at his boldness, but Asher didn’t look away—not from Nathan, not even for a second.
--FinNathan spent the rest of the morning with his nose buried in his journal, bleeding ink across the page in jagged lines. Lyrics came easier than conversation—misery had a way of sharpening the pen. He hardly noticed the bell or the shifting halls until Rook hooked a hand on his sleeve and dragged him toward the cafeteria.
He sat quiet while Rook and Cosmo were nauseatingly adorable over Bubbe’s packed feast. Brisket sandwiches, pickles, even cookies—Cosmo’s grin bright as he shared every detail. Nathan might have sulked through it if Rook hadn’t nudged half a sandwich his way with a careless, “Eat, dude.” Nathan muttered a thanks and took it, trying not to look as grateful as he felt.
The rumors buzzing around the cafeteria were background noise, dull static—until the sound of footsteps cut through. Nathan looked up just in time to see Asher crossing the room, golden eyes steady, presence bold enough to make the gossip grind to a halt. He dropped into the seat across from Nathan like he belonged there.
The words that followed—something about another English paper—should have been casual. But Nathan’s chest tightened all the same. His cheeks heated, and his eyes darted to the side, searching for an escape that wasn’t there.
It took a long moment before he could force his voice out, brisk and offhand, as though it meant nothing.
“Mean… tonight I’ve got detention. Then band practice. So…” He shrugged, feigning indifference even as his pulse hammered. “…if you want, we could meet up after that.”
The words hung between them, sharper than he meant, softer than he wanted to admit. His chest felt too full, like he’d just given something away without meaning to.
-fin-Alastor leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs with the kind of careless grace that never quite tipped into recklessness. Having stopped smoking to grabbing an apple from some persons tray that never was eaten.
Now half-eaten apple turned lazily in his hand, but his eyes were anything but idle.
He watched Asher cross the cafeteria like he *meant* it, each step full of intent. No scowling. No storming. Just presence. When he dropped into the seat across from Nathan—bold and deliberate—Alastor couldn’t help the small curve of his mouth.
“Well,” he murmured to himself, voice wry. “Look who took my advice.”
He didn’t need to hear the words to feel the shift in the air. Nathan’s guarded posture. Asher’s quiet confidence. That brief flicker of something real between them, sparking right there in front of the whole room. The teen had chosen to stop hiding. To *show up*.- to try.
Alastor felt something warm at the edges of his chest. Not envy. No. He wasn’t foolish enough to covet what wasn't his. But there was an ache there, a familiar one—the soft kind of lonely that didn't always show on the surface.
>>He tossed the apple core, the lunch bell only seconds from shrieking. As he passed behind Asher’s chair, he let his voice drop, smooth as velvet, pitched just for him:
“Careful, *lobo*,” Alastor murmured, a low smile curling on his lips. “Make bold moves like that, means you gotta commit.”
A beat passed. Then something quieter, sincere:
“…Proud of you, though.”
His fingers ghosted over the back of the chair—light, brief—and then he moved on, disappearing into the crowd like smoke.
He didn’t look back.
But the moment he hit the hallway, the soft pride in his chest began to twist—subtle at first, then sharp. Because beneath everything—the flutter of teenage drama, the wide-eyed curiosity, the hushed *oohs* and *did you see that?*s—there was a darker hum.
Alastor had heard it before. That whispering edge in the cafeteria, the silence that followed something *different.* Something that didn’t play by the unspoken rules.
They watched Asher and Nathan with wide eyes and half-laughed comments, but underneath it? Something colder. Small-minded. Hungry.
It sat wrong in his gut.
He walked a little faster, jaw tight, hands in his pockets like anchors. The hallway noise blurred into a distant thrum, but that *murmuring rage* at the back of his mind sharpened—thin and dangerous.
They didn’t *deserve* to see a moment like that. Not really.
And if any of them tried to poison it—if one of those smug little voices twisted something innocent into a threat—
Well. Alastor would stop watching from the sidelines.
And they’d remember why he never had to raise his voice to make someone *shut up.*
Still, as he turned the corner, he exhaled slow and even. Smoothed his expression. Let the smirk return—cool, easy, detached.
The loneliness could wait. The rage could wait.
But he was *watching* now. Closely.
And heaven help the first fool who gave him a reason to step in.
—fin—Adara sat at her usual table, chin propped on her hand, watching the drama unfold with a grin sharp enough to cut. The second Asher crossed the room with that steady, unshaken stride, her smirk turned positively smug.
“Told you,” she murmured to her friends, loud enough for them to hear over the din of gossip. “Just wait. Those two are so going to be a thing before long.”
Her friends giggled, tossing glances between Nathan and Asher like they were watching the best soap opera on live TV. Adara just leaned back, satisfied as a cat in a sunbeam.
Across the room, Cosmo sat cross-legged on the bench beside Rook, his lunch spread out like a tiny feast. Bubbe’s brisket sandwiches were already half gone thanks to Rook’s bottomless appetite, and the stack of cookies sat between them like a peace offering to the whole table.
Nathan had been quiet, brooding over his food, until Rook nudged half a sandwich his way with a casual, “Eat, dude.”
Nathan muttered a thanks and tore into it, pretending not to notice how Cosmo’s soft smile lingered on him. Cosmo didn’t press—he just slid the biggest cookie across to Nathan like it was no big deal.
“Try this one,” he said gently. “Bubbe went heavy on the cinnamon.”
Cosmo beamed and turned to offer another to Asher, his excitement bubbling over. “You too! Bubbe made extra so you’d get some too, Asher.”
Asher accepted the cookie with a small nod and a quiet, “Thanks,” though his attention was clearly locked on Nathan.
"Just shoot me a text after your practice, I'll come over after." Asher replied easily. "I definitely want to,"
Asher’s head turned slightly at Alastor's soft words. His golden eyes tracked Alastor for a moment, studying the older teen’s calm, shadowy retreat. Then he gave a small, deliberate nod—a silent acknowledgment—before returning his focus to the table.
Cosmo, oblivious to the quiet exchange, practically bounced in his seat. “Hey, Asher—do you wanna blow up some rockets too?I’m planning a launch this weekend. Rook’s coming, Nathan said maybe, and Bubbe’s already packing snacks for everyone.”
His grin turned a little sheepish, his voice dropping conspiratorially as if sharing a great secret. “It’s perfectly safe… mostly. You know. Science safe. It’s gonna be fun! What do you say?”
Asher’s gaze shifted, first to Cosmo’s bright, eager expression, then to Nathan’s guarded but softened face, and finally to Rook’s lazy, wolfish smirk.
Despite the whispers circling the cafeteria like vultures, this little pocket of space felt… steady.
Maybe even like a pack.
"I might be able to come, depends on if I get into more trouble though. So I'll just have to wait and see," Asher replied with a smirk.
-Fin-Rook barely noticed the cafeteria buzz beyond their table; every ounce of his attention was fixed on Cosmo, like the kid had just invented gravity itself. His smirk softened as he listened, nodding along even if half the “science talk” flew right over his head. The only time he glanced away was to swipe another bite of brisket, shameless and satisfied.
Truth was, the only reason he hadn’t tanked science already was because Nathan sometimes slipped his finished homework his way. Not that Rook would admit it out loud—not when Cosmo’s eyes were shining like that.
Nathan, meanwhile, sat quieter than usual. His journal stayed shut for once, the words in his head drowned out by the sight of Asher across from him. That bold stride. That calm, deliberate choice to sit here—with him—in front of everyone. Nathan kept waiting for the punchline, the smirk, the inevitable rug pull. But it never came.
And that unsettled him more than any cruel rumor.
When Asher mentioned “trouble,” Nathan’s brow arched sharply. He couldn’t help himself; the words slipped out low and skeptical.
“Trouble?” he echoed, eyes narrowing just slightly as he followed Asher’s gaze toward the door Alastor had disappeared through. “What kind of trouble are you finding?”
His voice was careful, clipped—but beneath the edge was something else. Not accusation. Not dismissal. Something closer to curiosity. Maybe even concern.
Rook leaned back, catching the shift in Nathan’s tone, and snorted. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he muttered, smirk curling again as if trouble was something to look forward to rather than avoid.
-fin-Alastor didn’t *mean* to linger by the water fountain. Not really.
But his pace slowed when he spotted them at the far end of the hall—Lucinda’s laugh bright and careless, at least until she saw him. Her smile faltered. Eyes widened. She tugged at Donovan’s sleeve, leaned in like she needed to whisper something urgent, all while glancing over her shoulder like she expected to see a ghost.
Donovan, though—he didn’t flinch. He looked *composed*. At ease in a way that felt deliberate. His fingers brushed hers, then slid lower, curling around her wrist like it belonged to him.
Subtle. Possessive. Intimate.
Alastor’s jaw tightened. A breath hissed through his teeth, and he turned sharply toward the bathroom door.
He did what he came to do, letting the sink run too long. The door creaked open behind him.
Blaze stepped in.
Alastor didn’t acknowledge him at first—just watched the linebacker’s reflection in the mirror as Blaze headed toward the stall, casual as ever. Big guy, always playing it low-effort, like nothing stuck to him.
But the air shifted. And Alastor was nothing if not surgical when he wanted to be.
“So,” he said, his voice calm, but too smooth to be friendly. “When did you and Donovan start hanging out?”
Blaze snorted from behind the stall door. “We don’t.”
Alastor dried his hands with slow precision. “Could’ve fooled me. You were hanging by the bleachers this morning. After kinda close at lunch too.”
A beat of silence.
“You keeping tabs on us?” Blaze asked, rough-edged.
>>>Something flickered across Blaze’s face—fury, panic, shame. Maybe all three.
“You don’t know what the
**** you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Alastor’s voice was soft now, deliberate. “Donovan’s good at keeping secrets. But he’s not *discreet*. And you’re too easy to read.” He seethed as he felt a bristle inside.
Blaze’s fists curled, jaw tight. “Keep running your mouth like that, and I swear—”
Alastor didn’t flinch. “You’ll what? Prove me right?”
Blaze’s chest rose and fell like a piston, eyes burning.
“You think you know *everything*,” he snapped, voice shaking with something that wasn’t just anger. “But you don’t know *
***** about me.”
Alastor’s gaze sharpened—not mockery now, but something colder. “You think I haven’t seen it before? We were a thing once blaze- and I know what kind of monster you can be.”
>>>And Alastor, acting like a wolf with his prey, stepped forward into that silence, his voice like ice dragged across steel.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” he said. “You’re
**** him.”
Blaze snapped his head up, jaw clenched, but the words didn’t come. Not fast enough. Not strong enough.
Alastor’s eye caught the fluorescent light above—no longer just a flicker, but a slow, burning glow at the edges of his iris. Something inside him had split open, and it was as if rage had a human form- as he strained from Turning.
“You let him do to you what you swore you’d never let *anyone* do again,” Alastor went on, his voice low, venom-laced. “After everything you said to me. After everything you did to make sure no one found out—*about us..* “ he laughed .”*you still went back to someone just like you*.”
Blaze’s hands shook at his sides. “Shut the
**** up.”
“You’re not his first,” Alastor said, the glow in his eye flaring hotter now, bleeding into his voice. “And you *won’t* be his last.”
“Shut. *Up*.”
“Does he look at you the way he looked at Nathan?” Alastor hissed. “The way he looked at *that girl*?”
The sound that came out of Blaze wasn’t a word—it was a snarl. Raw, animal, fractured.
He lunged—but this time, Alastor caught him mid-charge, shoving *back* hard, slamming Blaze into the tiled wall with surprising force for someone leaner, wirier.
Another fight brawled from behind the bathroom door.
Alastor struggled to keep the wolf inside- as a result the fight went against the tide. He was on the floor when the door swung open- blaze whaling on him.
“*fight!* was the yell as he shoved him off to be barreled back in the lockers. The time of words was over- now it was a fight.Asher chuckled under his breath at Nathan’s question, fingers drumming on the table. “Trouble?” he echoed, gold eyes glinting faintly with humor. “Let’s just say, I’ve got a talent for attracting it. Coach caught wind of the last detention, and my dad’s already on standby with the disappointed look. If I even breathe wrong this week, I’ll be grounded till graduation.”
The smirk that followed was half-teasing, half self-aware—more to downplay the chaos than deny it. “So yeah. Trouble and I… we’ve got history.”
Before Nathan could press, a sharp sound
**** the cafeteria buzz. The first shout came muffled—then clearer:
“Fight!”
Chairs scraped. Conversations died.
Asher’s head snapped toward the hall, instincts flaring before his brain caught up. His wolf surged like it had been waiting for the cue, muscles tensing, pulse roaring in his ears.
Then he caught it—the scent. Smoke, adrenaline, blood starting to tinge the air. Alastor.
“Asher?” Adara’s voice broke through, half rising from her seat, but he didn’t slow.. She sighed, muttering under her breath, “Oh, for crying out loud—he’s gonna get suspended again.”
He moved fast, cutting through the gawkers before the crowd could thicken. The moment he cleared the doorway, the scene snapped into focus—Blaze towering over Alastor, fists hammering down, tile
**** under a boot.Asher’s voice hit like thunder. He grabbed Blaze by the collar and ripped him backward, slamming him against the opposite wall. “Back. Off.”
For a heartbeat, the hallway stilled. Then Blaze lunged again—wrong move.
Asher ducked and countered, landing a clean right hook that
**** against Blaze’s jaw with a sick sound.
The roar of movement followed—Blaze’s friends piling in, shouting, trying to swarm him.
Asher’s wolf surged closer to the surface, each muscle coiled, controlled only by sheer will. He didn’t need claws to fight—his presence alone made half the bystanders flinch back.
Adara barreled in seconds later, binder in hand like a weapon. She didn’t even hesitate—swung it with a resounding whump into the back of one of Blaze’s buddies’ heads.
“Sit down!” she snapped, already winding up for another swing.
Cosmo stood frozen by the doorway, clutching his lunch bag like a shield, his voice a startled squeak.
“This is—this is so not safe!” he blurted, eyes darting between Asher, Adara, and the chaos erupting in front of him. “Someone’s gonna—oh my God, she hit him with notes!”
Adara only smirked, binder raised again. “Physics, baby!”
Asher half-turned at her voice, a grim laugh escaping before another shove hit his shoulder. His eyes flashed gold—just once—but it was enough to make the nearest jock freeze mid-swing.
“Try that again,” Asher warned, low and steady, “and I promise you’ll regret it.”
The hallway went dead quiet for a second—then another yell down the corridor:
“Teachers coming!”
Cosmo exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years, wide-eyed and still pale. “We are so getting detention for this,” he whispered.
Adara just grinned, brushing hair from her face, binder still raised like a trophy.
“Worth it.”
-fin-
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