"Layla. Layla wake up!." A deep worried voice echoed in the darkness.
*Earlier that day*
They say high school is just a passage, a fleeting blur between childhood and adulthood. For me, it always felt like an endless tunnel with no light at the end. Until today.
When Mr. Garnett stepped into the classroom that morning, trailing behind him a tall, mysterious boy with messy brown hair and eyes like rich soil, something shifted in the air. A hush swept over the class, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
"This is Xavier," Mr. Garnett announced. "He's just transferred here. Make him feel welcome."
My heart thudded harder than I'd care to admit.
Xavier, I repeated in my mind, letting the name roll off like silk.
Before I could stop myself, my hand shot up. "Um, hi! Welcome to Chowburg High," I said, forcing what I hoped was a warm smile. "If you need any help finding your way around, I'd be happy to show you."
His gaze flicked toward me, brief and unreadable. "Thank you," he replied, voice deep and smooth, but cold as winter steel.
The girls around me whispered and giggled, fawning over his aloof charm. I ignored them. So he's not the chatty type. Fine. That only made him more intriguing.
When PE class rolled around, I was surprised—no, thrilled—when we got paired for dodgeball. Pure coincidence, but I wasn't about to waste it.
"Looks like we're teammates," I said as we stood side by side. "Any good at this game?"
He gave the faintest shrug. "I'll manage."
"Well, let's win, then." I tried to sound cheerful, even though my heart fluttered like a trapped bird.
As the game began, I noticed how effortlessly he moved, dodging and throwing with precision. He wasn't just athletic—he was graceful, too. Almost too graceful to be human. But I pushed that thought aside. Get a grip, Layla. He's just a new student, not a superhero.
When class ended, I gathered my things and stole a glance at him. Xavier was already walking away, head down, as if carrying some invisible burden.
The next surprise came during club activities. I was part of the Art Club, mostly because it gave me an excuse to daydream and sketch random things. Today, as we were setting up the canvases, who should walk in but Xavier?
"You're joining the Art Club?" I blurted, a bit too eagerly.
His expression barely changed. "It seemed... quiet."
"That's one way to describe it," I said, laughing awkwardly. "Do you draw?"
"A little."
I handed him a pencil and smiled. "Well, I'd love to see what you come up with."
He accepted it without much ceremony and took a seat across from me. Silence settled between us, but I caught him glancing at my sketch—a rough drawing of a lone wolf howling at the moon. I felt heat rise to my cheeks.
Of all things to draw today...
The bell eventually rang, dismissing us for the day. I packed up my things slowly, watching as Xavier left the room. My curiosity gnawed at me like a persistent itch.
There's something about him. Something... off, but in a way that makes you want to know more.
Without thinking twice, I followed him.
Keeping a careful distance, I trailed behind as he walked through the streets and beyond the school district, until the pavement gave way to gravel and then to dirt paths leading into the woods.
What is he doing out here?
The shadows of the trees swallowed him whole, but I pressed on, heart pounding. He finally stopped in a small clearing, glancing around to make sure he was alone.
"I'm here," he called out into the empty air.
My breath hitched.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. Then, as if reality itself were peeling open, a portal shimmered into existence before him. From it emerged two massive wolves, fur bristling and eyes like molten gold. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp.
The wolves shifted—bones cracking, muscles contorting—until two men stood in their place, both rugged and dangerous-looking.
"I see you made it, Xavier," one of them said.
My pulse quickened. What is this? Who the hell are they?
They spoke in hushed, serious tones—something about "breaches between worlds" and "targets," though I couldn't catch it all.
Then one of them stiffened, nostrils flaring. His gaze snapped in my direction.
"We're not alone," he growled.
Panic clawed at my chest. Oh no. No, no, no.
They lunged toward me. I stumbled backward, my cover blown. But before they could reach me, Xavier stepped between us, eyes blazing, his body convulsing as he transformed—fur sprouting, muscles thickening, his human frame overtaken by the beast within.
"Run!" he barked, voice layered with a guttural snarl.
Frozen in terror, I could only watch as he fought them off, fangs flashing, claws slashing. He grabbed me and sprinted away, carrying me as if I weighed nothing.
Once we got far enough away from them, his body morphed back into it's human form.
"Why did you follow me?" he snapped once we found shelter behind a rocky outcrop. His chest heaved with exertion, amber eyes wild.
"I... I wanted to know more about you," I confessed, trembling. "I didn't think it'd—"
"You nearly got yourself killed!" His growl was sharp, biting.
Before I could respond, searing pain tore through my neck. My scream caught in my throat as fire spread beneath my skin. One of the wolves—one of those monsters—had managed to bite me in the scuffle.
"Damn it," Xavier muttered, inspecting the wound. His fingers brushed my skin, and I saw his eyes darken as they locked onto the mark now burning into my flesh.
The Nura.
"You've been marked," he said grimly. "The infection... it's spreading."
My head swam. Heat bloomed in my veins, too hot, too fast, my body temperature rose above what was considered normal for an ill patient.
"You're burning up." Xavier's eyes darted towards my face immediately.
"Xavier..." My voice faltered. My knees buckled beneath me.
As he caught me, cradling me against his chest, my vision blurred at the edges.
"Layla. Layla wake up!." His deep worried voice cried out.
His face was the last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole.