Alex pov
The football field stretched out before me, a vast expanse of green that had become my battleground. I had traded the safety of books and classrooms for the intensity of American football practice, and while the rules had changed, the goal remained the same—prove myself, excel, and earn my place.
But my newfound status as a topic of gossip on the Lycoan Whispers blog had thrown me off balance. I still couldn't fathom why they would concoct a tale about me and Cassandra. The very idea seemed preposterous, and yet, it had planted a seed of doubt in my mind.
For the time being, I chose to lie low, focusing on the practice at hand. The football team was a mix of camaraderie and competition, a group of guys who pushed each other to excel while also challenging one another for dominance. It was a world far removed from my previous pursuits, and one that required a different kind of strength.
As the practice kicked off, the energy on the field was palpable. We drilled plays, honed our skills, and absorbed the coach's instructions like sponges. But amidst the hustle and sweat, I couldn't escape the lingering glances and smirks from some of my teammates.
It wasn't long before the real conflict surfaced. A scrimmage erupted, the intensity of the game magnified by the undertones of rivalry. The boys on the team played hard, but with me, it seemed different—more aggressive, more personal. Each tackle felt like a statement, a reminder that I was the "normie" who had somehow become the subject of gossip.
I pushed myself to keep up, to prove that I was more than just a scholarship student, more than just a rumor. The hits came fast and furious, my body absorbing the impact as I fought to hold my ground.
But one hit, delivered with a force that seemed excessive, brought everything crashing down. The world spun, the impact rattling my senses until darkness claimed me.
When I woke, the sterile white of the hospital room greeted me. My head throbbed, a painful reminder of the collision that had led me here. As my vision cleared, I saw her—Cassandra, standing by the bedside.
"You had quite a tumble," she remarked, her voice carrying a mix of concern and something I couldn't quite place.
I tried to sit up, wincing at the ache in my body. "Yeah, it seems that way."
Cassandra's gaze held mine, her expression unreadable. "We need to talk."
The weight of her words hung in the air, a declaration that held a sense of urgency. I couldn't deny the tangle of emotions that surged within me—the confusion about the gossip, the intensity of the practice, and now her unexpected presence.
"Talk about what?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my attempts to play it cool.
Cassandra hesitated, her gaze searching mine. "About the rumors, about the blog… and about us."
The mention of "us" caught me off guard, my mind racing to catch up with the sudden shift in conversation. The rumors had painted a picture of a romance that had no basis in reality. And yet, her words seemed to suggest that there might be more to this than I had initially thought.
***
Cassandra's words hung in the air, a weighty silence settling between us. The hospital room felt smaller, the sterile environment a stark contrast to the mysteries that seemed to unravel around us.
"So, you want to talk about the rumors?" I asked, my tone casual even though my heart raced with uncertainty.
Cassandra sighed, her gaze momentarily distant. "Yes, the rumors. I just want to make it clear that there's nothing between us. The blog is full of fabrications."
I studied her expression, searching for any sign of deception. She seemed sincere, her eyes holding a mixture of frustration and perhaps something else that I couldn't quite decipher.
"I don't know why they would make up something like that," I admitted, my voice tinged with frustration. "It's as if they're trying to manipulate our lives."
Cassandra's eyes met mine, and for a moment, there was an unspoken understanding between us—a shared frustration at being pawns in a game we hadn't signed up for.
As we spoke, a flicker of movement caught my eye. My gaze shifted to the corner of the room, where a figure stood. A figure that I recognized—the white wolf that had appeared before, the one that seemed to appear and disappear at will.
I blinked, my heart pounding as I turned back to Cassandra. "Did you see that?"
Cassandra's brow furrowed, confusion etching her features. "See what?"
"The white wolf," I replied, my voice urgent. "It was right there, in the corner."
Cassandra's expression shifted from confusion to something closer to concern. "Alex, there's nothing there. Are you feeling okay?"
I shook my head, my pulse still racing from the sight. "I saw it. I know I did."
Cassandra's gaze held mine, a mixture of skepticism and worry in her eyes. "You might be imagining things. Maybe the hit on the field affected you more than you thought."
I wanted to believe her, to dismiss the strange sightings as a product of a rattled mind. But the memory of that white wolf, those piercing eyes, was etched in my memory, impossible to ignore.
Cassandra's tone softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on my arm. "Look, I'm not trying to dismiss you, but sometimes our minds can play tricks on us. Maybe you just need some rest."
The concern in her voice was genuine, and for a moment, I considered the possibility that I was indeed seeing things. But the memory was too vivid, the presence of that wolf too undeniable.
Cassandra withdrew her hand, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before she stood up. "I hope you feel better soon, Alex. But for now, I think you should rest."
She left the room, the weight of uncertainty settled over me. Was I truly imagining things? Or was there something more to these sightings, something that defied explanation? The questions swirled in my mind as I lay back against the pillows, the hospital room a place of both recovery and discovery—a place where the shadows seemed to conceal secrets I was determined to uncover.