The moon hung high, casting an ethereal glow over Beacon Hills as thunder rolled across the night sky. Scott McCall turned the key in the lock at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, securing the door for the night. The storm brewing overhead mirrored the storm within him, a gnawing unease he couldn't shake.
Inside, Scott moved with deliberate precision, carrying a bottle of hydrogen peroxide to the restroom. He pulled up his shirt, revealing his side where the bandage from the night before had covered a deep, painful bite. Slowly, he peeled the dressing away, his eyes widening. The wound was gone—completely healed. In its place, smooth skin gleamed under the harsh fluorescent light.
The realization brought little comfort. Questions churned in his mind. What was happening to him? How was this even possible?
Shaking his head, Scott tossed the bandage into the trash and left the restroom. He dragged a large bag of what might have been cat food down the hall toward the "Cat Clinic." The moment he stepped inside, chaos erupted.
The cats, usually aloof and content in their cages, hissed and howled, clawing at the bars as if trying to escape. Their wild, glowing eyes locked onto him. Scott staggered back, his heart pounding. He'd never seen them act like this. He quickly backed out of the room, closing the door tightly behind him.
"What the hell is going on?" he whispered.
As if answering his question, a loud knock echoed from the front of the clinic. Scott turned, startled. Outside, drenched by the relentless rain, stood Allison Argent. Her soaked hair clung to her face, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she knocked again, harder this time.
Scott hurried to the door and unlocked it. "Allison?" he said, concern lacing his voice.
She stepped inside, shivering and soaked to the bone. "I-I wasn't paying attention," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I took my eyes off the road for like two seconds to change the song on my iPod, and... I hit a dog." Her face crumpled, fresh tears spilling over. "It's in my car. I didn't know where else to go."
Scott nodded quickly. "It's okay. Let me take a look."
He followed her outside to her blue Pontiac G3. The hatchback popped open, revealing a large, injured dog. The animal growled low in its throat, its teeth bared in fear and pain.
"It's just scared," Scott said, crouching to its eye level. "Hey, buddy. It's okay."
Unconsciously, something within Scott stirred. His eyes took on a faint yellow glow, his fingers briefly extending into claws. Black veins spidered up his arm. It happened in a heartbeat, unnoticed by Allison.
The dog's demeanor shifted. It stopped growling, its ears flattening as it whimpered and lowered its head. Scott blinked, his features returning to normal. He reached out and gently stroked the dog's fur.
"I think her leg's broken," Scott said, glancing back at Allison. "I've seen the doctor do enough splints. I can handle this."
Allison nodded, her teeth chattering. Rainwater dripped from her hair, and her soaked clothes clung to her shivering frame.
"You're freezing," Scott said. "Wait here. I'll grab you a dry shirt."
He returned moments later with a clean shirt from his gym bag. Allison thanked him softly and stepped into the next room to change.
Scott tried to focus on the dog, carefully cleaning the wound and preparing a splint. But his gaze kept drifting toward the glass door of the next room. Through the slightly fogged glass, he saw Allison peel off her wet top, her back turned to him. He quickly looked away, heat rising to his cheeks.
Moments later, she returned wearing his oversized shirt, her damp hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
"Better?" Scott asked, his voice a little hoarse.
"Much." She offered a shy smile.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Scott noticed an eyelash on her cheek. "Hold still," he said softly. He reached out, brushing it away with his thumb.
Allison's breath hitched, her dark eyes searching his. The air between them grew heavy, charged with something unspoken. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they looked away, breaking the spell.
Scott finished the bandaging and helped Allison carry the dog to her car. Rain continued to fall, but neither seemed to notice as they stood by her car door.
"So," Scott began, gathering his courage, "there's this party at Lydia's on Friday. Do you maybe want to go? With me?"
Allison hesitated, then smiled. "I'd like that. I kind of lied when I told Lydia I had family night that day."
Scott grinned, his heart soaring.
When he finally returned home, he flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind replayed every moment with Allison, her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up despite the rain. He sighed contentedly, glancing out the window at the waxing gibbous moon.
Sleep claimed him quickly, but it wasn't peaceful.
Scott awoke with a start, gasping for breath. His chest heaved, his muscles tense. The world around him was no longer familiar. He was shirtless, his hands and mouth smeared with blood.
He looked down, horrified, at his surroundings. Wet leaves clung to his skin, and the air was damp and earthy. He was in a cave, the walls dark and jagged. A faint metallic tang lingered in the air, sending a chill down his spine.
"What…?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.