The streets of Draven City pulsed with evening chaos—vendors shouting, bikes weaving through traffic, and the distant thump of music from a corner bar. Utibe jogged to keep up with Tega, his muscles still screaming from his mom's earlier beatdown. The air felt heavy, charged with something he couldn't name, and his head throbbed with a nagging sense of déjà vu. Tega's face was a mask of tension, his usual smirk gone, replaced by a grim focus that set Utibe's nerves on edge.
"Yo, Tega, slow down," Utibe said, dodging a pile of trash on the sidewalk. "You gonna tell me what's up with your twin, or am I supposed to guess?"
Tega didn't break stride, his eyes fixed ahead. "It's Temi. She's in trouble."
Utibe snorted, trying to lighten the mood. "Trouble like she stole your snacks, or trouble like she's in deep shit?"
Tega's jaw clenched, and for a moment, Utibe thought he wouldn't answer. Then, in a low voice, "Deep shit. She got mixed up with some bad people."
Utibe's smirk faded. "Bad people? Like, gang bad, or…?" His voice trailed off as a sharp pain stabbed behind his eyes—a flash of silver eyes, blood, and a fight that felt too real to be a dream. He shook it off, but the unease lingered.
Tega glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "You wouldn't get it, Utibe. Just… stay close and don't do anything stupid."
Utibe grinned, though it felt forced. "Stupid's my specialty, bro."
Tega didn't laugh. He pulled out his phone, checking a new message, and his face paled. "Fuck."
"What now?" Utibe asked, leaning over to see the screen. One word: *Warehouse.*
Tega pocketed the phone and broke into a sprint, heading toward the docks. Utibe cursed but followed, his sneakers pounding the pavement. The docks were Draven City's underbelly—rusted cranes, abandoned warehouses, and an air thick with salt and decay. Not a place for a casual evening stroll.
As they reached the waterfront, the city's lights faded, swallowed by looming shadows. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over the water. Utibe's skin prickled, that nagging headache sharpening into a splinter he couldn't pull out. The air smelled wrong—metallic, like blood.
Tega slowed as they approached a massive warehouse, its walls tagged with faded graffiti, windows shattered like broken teeth. He raised a hand, signaling Utibe to stay quiet. "Stay close," Tega whispered. "And don't—"
"Yeah, yeah, nothing stupid," Utibe muttered, rolling his eyes. But his heart was racing now, his instincts screaming that they were walking into something bad.
Tega pushed open a rusted side door, the screech echoing in the stillness. Inside, the warehouse was a maze of crates and shadows, lit by a single flickering bulb that swung from the ceiling. The air was thick with dust and that same metallic tang, stronger now. Utibe's nose twitched, and his gut twisted. *Blood. Definitely blood.*
Tega moved like he'd been here before, his steps silent, predatory. Utibe followed, scanning the darkness, every creak making him jump. They reached a clearing littered with broken glass and overturned crates. Tega froze, his nostrils flaring as he knelt beside a dark smear on the concrete. Blood, fresh and glistening.
"Temi," Tega muttered, his voice cracking. His fingers hovered over the stain, trembling.
Utibe's eyes darted around, catching a glint in the shadows. "Tega, we got company."
Before Tega could respond, a low growl rumbled through the warehouse, bouncing off the walls. Three figures emerged from the darkness—two with silver eyes, one with red. The silver-eyed ones were built like tanks, their movements fluid, predatory. The red-eyed figure was slimmer, her silhouette eerily familiar, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Well, well," a sultry voice purred. "The stray and his pet human. How cute."
Utibe's breath caught. *Her.* The girl from his dream—or whatever it was. Blood-red eyes, pale skin, blood dripping from her chin. Isdis.
Tega stood, stepping in front of Utibe, his body tense. "Where's my sister, Isdis?"
Isdis tilted her head, licking her lips. "Your sister? Oh, darling, she's… indisposed."
The two werewolves flanked her, claws glinting. The bigger one grinned, cracking his knuckles. "You're late, stray. She's with the pack now."
Tega's fists clenched, a growl rumbling in his chest. "If you hurt her, I'll rip you apart."
Isdis laughed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Relax, puppy. She's alive. For now. But you know how packs are—strays don't get a warm welcome."
Utibe's head throbbed, fragments of memory clawing at him—Tega's eyes glowing, claws, a fight he shouldn't remember. He stepped forward, ignoring Tega's warning glare. "What's with the horror movie bullshit? You three look like you're auditioning for a bad werewolf flick."
Isdis's eyes locked onto him, her smirk widening. "Oh, the human's got a mouth. I like that." She stepped closer, her movements like a panther's. "You don't remember me, do you?"
Utibe frowned, pain lancing through his skull. "Should I?"
Her laugh was low, dangerous. "You will."
Tega grabbed Utibe's arm, pulling him back. "Stay out of this, Utibe."
"Like hell," Utibe snapped, yanking free. "Your sister's in trouble, and I'm not sitting this out."
The bigger werewolf snarled, his patience gone. "You're in over your head, human. Walk away, or you're next."
Utibe's lips curled into a defiant grin. "Try me, Fido."
The werewolf lunged, claws slashing toward Utibe's chest. Time slowed, and something inside him snapped awake—a primal instinct, sharp and electric. He sidestepped without thinking, his body moving faster than it should, and drove his fist into the werewolf's jaw. The impact sent a shockwave up his arm, and the beast staggered, blood dripping from its mouth.
"Holy shit," Utibe breathed, staring at his fist. *What the hell was that?*
Tega's eyes widened, a mix of shock and fear. "Utibe…"
Isdis clapped slowly, her expression unreadable. "Well, isn't this interesting?"
Before anyone could react, the warehouse shook with a deafening crack. A wave of pressure slammed into them, heavy and suffocating, like the air had turned to lead. The werewolves froze, their snarls dying. Isdis's smirk vanished, her eyes darting to the shadows.
A voice, smooth and laced with barely restrained fury, cut through the tension. "Enough."
Utibe's blood ran cold. He knew that voice.
Darius Malphas stepped into the flickering light, his black suit pristine, silver hair gleaming. His black eyes swallowed the room, and the air pulsed with something ancient, something *wrong*. His calm demeanor only made the rage in his voice more terrifying.
"Children," Darius said, his tone sharp enough to cut steel, "you are trying my patience to its breaking point."
Tega stiffened, his claws retracting. Isdis took a step back, her bravado gone. The werewolves lowered their heads, submissive.
Utibe, however, didn't budge. His head throbbed, memories flickering—Tega's transformation, Isdis's red eyes, a car ride, a slap. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to run. "You again," he said, voice steadier than he felt. "What's your deal, suit guy? You keep showing up like a damn ghost."
Darius's eyes snapped to him, his expression a mix of annoyance and incredulity. "You," he said, voice low and dangerous, "are the same ignorant fool from last week. And yet, here you are, once again entangled in a mess that could unravel centuries of secrecy."
Utibe's smirk faltered. "Last week?"
Darius's gaze narrowed, his voice dripping with exasperation. "Do not play dumb with me, Mr. Johnson. This is the *second* time you've stumbled into a supernatural breach, involving the *same* reckless idiots." His eyes flicked to Tega and Isdis, who flinched under his stare. "Do you have any idea the risk you pose? The Council does not tolerate exposure, and I am one step away from wiping you all from existence to clean up this disaster."
Tega swallowed hard. "Sir, he doesn't—"
"Silence," Darius snapped, his voice like a whip. Tega shut up instantly. "You, Grimfang, were warned. No humans. And you, Voss—" He turned to Isdis, who looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "Your feeding habits are a liability I can no longer ignore. Your father may indulge your recklessness, but I will not."
Isdis's jaw tightened, but she stayed silent.
Darius's gaze returned to Utibe, sharp and probing. "And you. A human who moves like that—" He gestured to the stunned werewolf, still clutching his jaw. "You're a problem I don't have time to solve right now."
Utibe's head pounded, memories clawing closer. "You know my name," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Why do I feel like I've met you before?"
Darius's lips twitched, a flicker of amusement buried under his fury. "Because you're too stubborn to stay out of trouble." He stepped forward, the air growing heavier. "This ends now. All of you are coming with me to Fantasia Academy. The Council will decide your fate."
Tega's eyes widened. "No, sir, Utibe's not—"
"Not a request," Darius cut in, his voice final. "Move."
Isdis grumbled but complied, the werewolves trailing her like chastised dogs. Tega hesitated, glancing at Utibe with guilt and fear. Utibe met his gaze, his mind racing—Council, academy, supernatural. The words felt like keys to a lock he couldn't yet open.
"Fine," Utibe said, stepping forward. "But you better have answers, suit guy. I'm done with the cryptic shit."
Darius's expression didn't change, but his eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "Answers are a privilege, Mr. Johnson. You'll earn them—or you'll regret it."
As Darius led them out, the warehouse door creaking shut behind them, Utibe's gut screamed that his life was about to change forever. Tega's sister, Isdis's games, Darius's fury—it was all connected, and he was caught in the middle, with no idea how deep the rabbit hole went.