The smell of roasted chicken drifted up the stairs while Gabriel and I were sitting on the floor of his room, going through an old box of band T-shirts he’d collected over the years. Nathan was on the lower bunk, glued to his phone and pretending not to listen.
His grandmother’s voice carried from below, calling us to dinner. Gabriel stood first, then I got to my feet. Nathan looked up just long enough to realize I was standing between him and the door. His eyes flicked away instantly, and he slid off the bed without a word, pressing himself flat to the wall to give me as much space as possible.
Gabriel caught it, the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Looks like you made a fan,” he murmured.
“Guess I’m just unforgettable,” I said, deadpan, as we filed into the hall.
We headed downstairs together, Nathan trailing behind us with a sudden and very obvious gap in his stride. The warm light from the kitchen spilled into the hall, the sound of plates clinking and his grandfather’s low voice drifting from the dining room.
But as soon as my foot crossed the kitchen threshold, the change hit. Out on the back porch — the one Gabriel had told me was usually packed with squirrels, blue jays, and mourning doves waiting for his grandmother’s handouts — the crowd of animals froze. Then, in a sudden burst of motion, they scattered.
Blue jays shrieked and bolted to the trees. Squirrels leapt off the railings, tails whipping. The doves wheeled into the air like they’d been spooked by a hawk.
His grandmother frowned, glancing out the sliding door. “Now that’s strange. They were just sitting out there a minute ago.”
Gabriel leaned on the counter, keeping his tone casual. “Weird.”
I picked up a stack of plates and started helping set the table. “Guess something scared them off.”
When his grandmother turned back to the oven, Gabriel stepped in just close enough for only me to hear.
“They’re not the only ones,” he murmured.
I shot him a sharp look, but he didn’t flinch. His voice stayed quiet but certain. “Whatever you are, Thane… I’m not afraid of you.”
The wolf in me stirred, not in warning, but in recognition. And for the first time, I wondered if that might be more dangerous than fear ever could be.