Stiles didn't wait.
He didn't even try to hide it.
The moment practice ended, he was already moving toward me, weaving through players like he'd been waiting the entire time.
"Okay—no," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me aside. "No, we're talking about this right now."
I didn't resist.
"About what?"
He just stared at me.
"…about that," he said, pointing back toward the field. "You. All of that. Since when do you do that?"
I exhaled slowly, glancing back once before answering.
"I don't know."
"That's not an answer," Stiles snapped.
We didn't stop—past the lockers, past the parking lot.
Only when the noise of the school started fading behind us did he slow slightly, turning toward me.
"No, seriously—what is going on with you?"
I walked a few steps ahead before answering.
"…I got bitten."
He froze.
Just for a second.
Then caught up immediately.
"You got what?"
"Bit."
"By what?"
I didn't answer right away.
Because this mattered.
"…something in the woods," I said.
We kept walking.
The road gave way to dirt.
Then trees.
The shift was immediate.
Quieter.
Sharper.
My senses stretched without me trying.
[Perception +0.04]
Stiles was still processing.
"Okay, so let me get this straight," he said. "You get bitten in the woods, and now you're suddenly—what? Faster? Stronger? Spider-Man?"
I shook my head slightly.
"Not Spider-Man."
"…a wolf bit me, I think," I added, keeping my tone uncertain.
He stopped walking.
"…you're not joking."
I turned back to him.
"No."
I exhaled slowly.
"I heard a howl before I got bit."
That landed.
I could see it.
"…okay, no, that's not helping me stay calm," he said.
We kept moving.
Deeper into the woods.
"I can hear things," I said after a moment. "From further away than I should."
Stiles glanced at me. "Like what?"
I focused slightly.
"Someone arguing… a few streets over."
He blinked.
"That's not possible."
I ignored that.
"You have gum."
"What?"
"In your pocket."
"I don't—"
"Mint. Mojito."
He stopped again.
Slowly reached into his pocket.
Pulled it out.
Looked at it.
Then at me.
"…okay."
A beat.
"Okay, I'm officially not okay."
I almost smiled.
Then it faded.
"I'm not guessing," I said quietly.
He didn't speak.
I looked ahead.
Toward the deeper part of the woods.
"I know what it is now."
A pause.
Then he snapped his fingers.
"Okay. I've heard of this."
I glanced at him.
"You have?"
"Yeah," he said, pacing now. "It's like—this specific kind of infection."
I didn't interrupt.
He pointed at me.
"Lycanthropy."
I let that sit for a second.
Then—
"Werewolf."
He froze.
"…you said that way too easily."
Silence.
"…you're serious."
I nodded once.
Another pause.
"…okay," he said slowly. "Okay, no, that's—wow."
He let out a breath.
"You're a werewolf."
I didn't deny it.
He pointed at me.
"I knew it."
Then immediately—
"You did not know it."
I shook my head slightly.
"The full moon's coming," I said.
That stopped him again.
"…what?"
"That's when it gets worse."
The joking stopped.
"Worse how?" he asked.
I didn't answer immediately.
Because I knew.
"Control," I said finally. "I might not be able to control it."
That landed heavier than anything else.
We reached the spot.
I slowed.
"This is where I dropped it."
I scanned the ground.
Not just looking.
Feeling.
[Perception +0.05]
"Maybe whoever took the body grabbed it," Stiles said.
I didn't respond.
Because something felt—
Off.
"Hey."
The voice cut through the trees.
We both turned.
Derek.
Exactly where I expected him to be.
Watching.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "This is private property."
Stiles raised his hands immediately. "Uh—sorry, we didn't know—"
I didn't move.
Didn't step back.
"We're just looking for something," I said.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Sharp.
Studying.
"…what kind of something?" he asked.
I held his gaze.
For a moment—
Nothing moved.
Then I said:
"My inhaler."
A pause.
He didn't look away.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said.
I nodded slightly.
"I know."
That changed something.
I saw it.
Then—
"Leave."
He tossed it.
I caught it without thinking.
[Reaction Speed +0.03]
And turned.
Stiles followed immediately.
We walked in silence for a while.
Then—
"…dude," he said.
I glanced at him.
"That was Derek Hale."
"I know."
He blinked.
"…you know?"
I looked ahead.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"…okay," he said slowly. "That's new information I was not prepared for. You don't just know that kind of thing."
I didn't respond.
Because my focus wasn't on him anymore.
It was on the woods behind us.
Even as we walked away—
I could still feel it.
That presence.
Watching.
And this time—
It wasn't just instinct.
It was confirmation.
To be continued…