The Friday night lights cut through the spring mist hanging over Moon High's field, stretching shadows like omens across the frost-tipped grass as the championship game against the Rockwood Beavers entered its fourth quarter. The scoreboard glowed ominously in the darkness: Beavers 21, Mighty Wolves 17. Three minutes left on the clock.

  Jessica landed a toe-touch in perfect sync with the squad, her ponytail snapping through the air as her focus remained locked on the field—specifically on number 48, quarterback Mark Turner.

  "He's maintaining so far," Salina muttered through her game-day smile, the purple and silver uniform unable to soften the intensity she radiated. "Too normal."

  Jessica's jaw tightened as she nodded slightly, her smile fixed in place. Her eyes never left Mark's unsteady movements on the field.

  They launched into their sideline chant, voices rising with the crowd's energy. Tiffany executed a flawless herkie jump beside them, her red hair catching the field lights while her movements betrayed none of her anxiety. Across the formation, the other girls maintained their positions with practiced precision.

  "Go Wolves! Howl for victory!" they chanted, voices blending into the night air.

  Tiffany fell back into position, her gaze darting toward the field. "Any sign?" she whispered.

  "Nothing yet," Jessica's voice strained with artificial enthusiasm as the crowd thundered, "DEFENSE! DEFENSE!"

  The Rockwood running back sliced through Moon High's defense for fifteen yards before hitting the turf near the thirty. A collective groan rippled through the home crowd.

  "Kevin texted." Salina glanced at her phone during a lull. "Still working on the antidote. His cousin's notes stumped him, but he's making progress."

  "He needs to hurry." Jessica's nostrils flared slightly, catching Mark's scent even from the sidelines—sweat laced with something chemical, synthetic. "Mark definitely took something before the game. I can smell it on him."

  Across the field, Mark trudged to the sidelines as Rockwood's offense took possession. Coach Harris clapped him on the shoulder pad, but Mark's gaze remained fixed on some invisible point in the distance.

  "He should be transforming by now," Jessica murmured, tracking his movements. "The serum takes about an hour. I saw him in the locker room before warm-ups."

  "Maybe he's fighting it?" Hope colored Tiffany's whisper.

  Jessica shook her head. "Last time the serum took complete control."

  "Then why isn't he rampaging through the defensive line?" Salina dropped her voice as Camella glanced their way. "I expected carnage by halftime."

  "Something's off," Jessica's fingernails dug into her palms.

  Mia bounded over during a timeout, energy crackling around her. "What's with the secret meeting? We have a crowd waiting for us!"

  "Just worried about Mark's performance," Jessica redirected smoothly. "He seems off tonight."

  Mia's shoulders dropped. "No kidding. He's missed receivers who were practically waving flares. Amber says her brother's about to explode on the bench."

  As if summoned, Amber joined their huddle. "Jordan says Coach is one bad play away from benching Mark."

  Jessica and Salina locked eyes, an alarm passing between them.

  "Benched might be safer than we realize," Salina breathed.

  The timeout ended, and Moon High's offense returned to the field. Mark yanked his helmet down and approached the line of scrimmage. Jessica scrutinized him for warning signs—yellow eyes, distended veins, thickening features. Nothing.

  "This doesn't make sense," she whispered. "Last time, the transformation started within an hour."

  "Bad batch?" Salina suggested.

  "Or maybe—" Jessica's words died as Mark took the snap, dropped back, and the ball spiraled from his hand with impossible precision.

  The crowd erupted as the football arced through the night air, dropping perfectly into the receiver's hands before he sprinted the remaining fifteen yards. The scoreboard flickered: Beavers 21, Mighty Wolves 23.

  Two minutes left.

  "That throw was..." Tiffany's voice trailed off.

  "Inhuman," Jessica finished, dread coiling in her stomach.

  The cheerleading squad launched into their victory routine, Jessica's body moving on autopilot while her mind raced. The crowd's energy pulsed through the stadium, the bleachers vibrating beneath stomping feet.

  "DEFENSE! FINISH THEM!" The chant echoed like a war cry.

  On the field, Rockwood's offense crashed against a suddenly impenetrable Moon High defense. The clock bled down. One minute. Thirty seconds. The Beavers' quarterback scrambled desperately, finding nothing but purple jerseys closing in.

  The final whistle pierced the night. The scoreboard froze. Moon High had won.

  Students and parents flooded the field, engulfing the team. The cheerleading squad was swept into the celebration, music thundering down from the speakers.

  "Mark—where is he?" Jessica scanned the churning mass of bodies.

  Tiffany pointed toward the center where Mark stood motionless amid the chaos, helmet dangling from limp fingers. She shoved through the crowd, Jessica and Salina cutting through in her wake.

  "Mark!" Tiffany flung herself at him. "That final pass was unbelievable!"

  His eyes focused on her with visible effort. "Yeah... guess so."

  "What's wrong?" Tiffany pulled back, her hands gripping his shoulders.

  Jessica and Salina flanked them, forming a protective triangle. Up close, Jessica spotted the sheen of sweat on Mark's ashen face.

  "Nothing," Mark said, but his voice cracked as pain flashed across his features. His hand shot to his temple.

  "Mark?" Fear threaded through Tiffany's voice.

  Jessica tensed as she caught it—a flash of yellow burning through Mark's irises before fading back to blue.

  "Salina," she breathed the warning.

  Salina's hand slipped into her uniform pocket, fingers curling around what Jessica knew was wolfsbane.

  "I need to..." Mark's words fragmented as his face contorted. "Something's happening."

  He stumbled backward from Tiffany, his gaze darting wildly around the field. Another spasm rocked him, and this time the yellow flared in his eyes longer before retreating.

  "Mark, wait!" Tiffany called as he shoved through the crowd, teammates bouncing off him like rubber.

  "He's bolting," Salina's voice hardened. "After him?"

  Jessica watched Mark disappear toward the locker rooms. "No. This isn't like before. The transformation—he's resisting it."

  "What does that mean?" Tiffany's fingers twisted the fabric of her uniform.

  "The serum—he's been weaning himself off it. That's why his playing was so erratic until that final, desperate surge." Jessica pieced it together. "He's experiencing withdrawal."

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  "Withdrawal?" Tiffany's breath caught, her fingers digging into her palms.

  Jessica nodded. "The serum hooks its victims. Dr. Turner engineered it that way. Mark's been reducing his doses."

  "That flash in his eyes..." Salina stared toward the locker room.

  "Means it's still in his system. Still dangerous." Jessica's voice tightened. "Kevin needs to finish that antidote. Mark's fighting now, but the serum builds up. Eventually, the beast wins."

  Tiffany hugged herself, her gaze fixed on the locker room entrance. “Prom's in two days. Will Kevin be ready?"

  Jessica exchanged a weighted look with Salina, the burden of knowledge heavy between them. "He has to be. If Mark transforms at prom..."

  The unfinished sentence hung in the air like a blade. The implications were clear: Mark Turner—quarterback, golden boy, teen wolf—unleashed in a gymnasium packed with unsuspecting classmates.

  The celebration swirled around them, the bleachers emptying as students poured onto the field. Jessica felt responsibility settle across her shoulders as she stared at the locker room door, wondering which version of Mark would emerge—the boy or the beast.

  "Come on," she linked arms with Tiffany and Salina. "We'll join the others. Tomorrow, we will find Kevin."

  As they turned away, the stadium lights pulsed—once, twice—a silent warning of darkness gathering strength.

  *****

  The sinking sun stretched the silhouettes of trees across Jessica's bedroom walls as she stood before her mirror, studying herself with unforgiving scrutiny. Her midnight blue prom dress—hugging her curves before flaring at the knees—had cost three months of allowance and resembled something from the glossy pages of Vogue. But the dress wasn't what made her fingers tremble at her sides.

  "Quit fidgeting," Salina said, materializing behind her in the reflection. "You look lethal."

  Jessica turned, the fabric of her dress swishing against her calves, her hands betraying the slightest quiver. "The dress isn't what's got me wound tight."

  Salina's eyes flashed with understanding. Her own black dress diverged from her typical gothic ensemble but maintained that edge uniquely hers—silver studs lining the neckline, combat boots peeking beneath the hem.

  "It's Mark," Jessica whispered, drifting to her window. The sky held its brightness, but she could feel it—that familiar itch beneath her skin, senses heightening until every rustle of leaves outside screamed in her ears.

  "We've got this planned out," Salina reminded her, adjusting a silver chain at her throat with practiced nonchalance. "Kevin's swinging by twenty. Got the antidote ready."

  Jessica's jaw clenched involuntarily, her fingernails digging half-moons into her palms as her worst fears solidified. For three days, they'd tracked Mark, witnessing his transformation accelerate at a frightening pace. Enhanced strength and aggression had evolved into something darker—veins blackening beneath his skin, eyes flashing blood-red when angered, his control fraying by the hour.

  Dr. Turner's lab-procured antidote remained their sole hope.

  "And if we're too late?" The question clawed its way out of Jessica's throat after days of silent dread. "If he's crossed some point of no return?"

  Salina crossed the room in three strides, gripping Jessica's shoulders with surprising strength. "Then we handle it. That's our job, isn't it? While everyone's busy with selfies and relationship drama, we're saving their clueless asses from this week's monster du jour."

  Despite everything, a laugh escaped Jessica's lips. "When did you become the optimist between us?"

  "Temporary insanity," Salina deadpanned, plucking at her dress's neckline. "Blame this costume. Makes me feel like I'm playing dress-up."

  Knuckles rapped against the bedroom door.

  "Jessica?" Her father's voice. "Decent in there?"

  "Yeah, Dad. Come in."

  Sheriff Daniel Tumblerlee pushed the door open, then froze, his eyes widening at the sight of his daughter. "Wow," he managed, pride blooming across his face. "Stunning, kiddo. Absolutely stunning."

  Jessica's smile faltered at the edges as she met her father's trusting gaze, then quickly looked away, adjusting her corsage with unnecessary precision.

  "Thanks, Dad." She smoothed her dress front, avoiding his gaze.

  "Corsage is waiting downstairs," he said, then glanced at Salina. "You clean up nice too, Salina. Different look for you."

  "Thanks, Sheriff T," Salina replied, her voice as parched as summer grass. "Expanding my color palette. You know, from black to... slightly darker black."

  The sheriff's laugh rumbled in his chest before he checked his watch. "Kevin picking you up soon?"

  "Any minute," Jessica confirmed.

  Her father lingered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other—a tell she recognized as his preamble to fatherly wisdom. "You know, Jessica, I'm damn proud of you. How you've turned things around the past two years, found your footing with the cheer squad." He paused, searching for words. "But I'm glad you've kept friends like Salina and Kevin. Good to keep people who knew you before... before you became who you are now."

  Jessica swallowed hard, irony twisting her insides. If only he glimpsed how much of herself remained concealed, even as she infiltrated the social hierarchy.

  "Thanks, Dad," she managed.

  A car horn blared outside—salvation in sound form.

  "That's Kevin," she said, snatching her small purse containing not cosmetics but wolfsbane and silver-infused breath mints for moments when her control threatened to slip.

  Her father stepped aside, then impulsively pulled her into an embrace. "Have fun tonight," he murmured. "Stay safe."

  Jessica squeezed back, holding on a beat longer than usual. "I will, Dad. Promise."

  If only "safe" meant something simpler tonight.

  *****

  Silver and blue streamers hid the gymnasium's utilitarian ceiling, transforming the space into the prom committee's version of a winter wonderland. The basketball court markings disappeared beneath yards of silver-flecked blue fabric, the metal bleachers concealed by artificial snow drifts that smelled faintly of plastic and the shop teacher's woodglue. Tiny lights twinkled everywhere like fallen stars while the DJ's bass thumped through strategically placed speakers. Couples already crowded the dance floor, swaying and spinning beneath paper snowflakes.

  Jessica halted at the entrance, her midnight blue dress capturing the light as her eyes swept the crowd. Kevin and Salina flanked her, equally vigilant despite their formal attire.

  "Mark's not here yet," Jessica murmured, her enhanced senses already sorting through the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and excitement saturating the room.

  "Good," Kevin replied, subtly patting his pocket where the antidote syringe rested. "Gives us time to position ourselves."

  Salina tugged at her dress's neckline. "Remind me why we're at teenage hell instead of watching horror flicks? This dress is cutting off circulation to my brain."

  "Because if Mark transforms completely, there won't be anyone left to make the sequel," Jessica replied, her voice tight.

  "Tiffany's over there," Kevin nodded toward the punch bowl. "Looking anxious."

  Jessica spotted the head cheerleader in her flowing red gown, thumb scrolling frantically through her phone. "I'll talk to her. Watch the entrances."

  As Jessica approached, Tiffany's face brightened momentarily before crumpling again. "Jessica! Have you seen Mark? He stood me up—I waited an hour before hitching a ride with Amber."

  A cold wave washed down Jessica's spine, triggering the subtle prickle of fur threatening to emerge beneath her skin. If Mark had abandoned his girlfriend, where was he hiding? What was he becoming?

  "He hasn't called?" Jessica asked, accepting the punch cup Tiffany thrust at her.

  "Nothing since this afternoon," Tiffany sighed, her makeup failing to conceal genuine distress. "He sounded... off. Breathing weird, talking in fragments. I think he might've ghosted me on prom night."

  Jessica's mind raced through calculations before deciding. "Listen carefully, Tiffany. I need you to keep something with you."

  Tiffany's green eyes widened. "What is it?"

  Jessica extracted the backup antidote vial from her clutch. "If Mark shows up acting strange—not just nervous-strange but scary-strange-you need to inject him with this."

  "Inject him?" Tiffany recoiled. "Is that... drugs?"

  "It's medicine," Jessica countered, her voice dropping. "This will help if he starts losing himself again.”

  Confusion and fear battled across Tiffany's face. "I don't understand what it is.”

  "You don't need to," Jessica pressed. "If he starts changing—and trust me, you'll know it when you see it—get this into him. Anywhere you can reach."

  "I—" Tiffany hesitated, but her fingers closed around the vial. "Okay."

  "And Tiffany? If you can't get close safely, find me or Kevin. Immediately."

  She left Tiffany clutching both the vial and her phone, making her way back to Kevin and Salina, who had positioned themselves near different exits.

  "Gave her the backup," Jessica reported.

  "Smart move?" Kevin asked, lines forming between his brows.

  "She loves him," Jessica replied simply. "We need every advantage we can scrape together."

  *****

  The next hour passed in tense vigilance. Jessica and Kevin joined the dancers to blend in, but their attention never wavered from the entrances. Salina lurked near the refreshments, sipping punch while monitoring the growing crowd.

  As the DJ transitioned to an upbeat song, Jessica allowed herself to relax a fraction. Moving with Kevin, feeling bass vibrations through the floor, she almost recaptured that elusive feeling of normalcy—of being just another teenager instead of someone cursed with supernatural abilities and the burden of stopping a monster.

  "Your dancing actually doesn't suck," she told Kevin, a genuine smile breaking through her worry.

  Kevin's neck flushed pink. "Three years of mandatory ballroom torture courtesy of my mother. Never imagined I'd thank her for it."

  "Well, I'm thanking her," Jessica replied, her hand squeezing him briefly. "For more than just the footwork."

  Kevin's eyes softened. "We make a solid team, Tumblerlee. Werewolf and tech geek against whatever hell throws our way."

  "Don't forget our resident witch," Jessica nodded toward Salina, who rolled her eyes at them from across the gymnasium.

  The music shifted to a slower, romantic melody. Couples around them drifted closer, arms encircling waists and shoulders. Without discussion, Jessica and Kevin did the same, their vigilance unbroken even as they swayed to the gentle rhythm.

  "Never thought monster hunting would make my prom night itinerary," Kevin murmured against her hair.

  "Never thought I'd actually enjoy prom," Jessica countered, her enhanced hearing still cataloging every sound in the gymnasium. "Despite everything."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah," she affirmed. "For two years, I've fought to protect this town while hiding who I am. Fighting alone would've hollowed me out completely. But with you and Salina..." Words failed her, unaccustomed to such vulnerability.

  Kevin's arms tightened around her. "You think—" his voice caught slightly, "—you'd get rid of us that easy? Not happening, Tumblerlee. We're your monster squad, whether you like it or not."

  Jessica laughed softly, then stiffened as the gymnasium doors banged open.

  Mark Turner filled the doorway, his rented tuxedo already straining across his shoulders and chest. Even from across the room, Jessica detected the unnatural flush mottling his skin and the feverish glint in his eyes.

  "He's here," she whispered, easing back from Kevin.

  Kevin's hand slipped immediately into his pocket. "And he's already changing."

  Across the room, Tiffany spotted her boyfriend. She hurried toward him, relief and anger warring across her face.

  "Mark! Where have you been? I've been texting for hours!"

  Mark barely registered her, his gaze sweeping the room until it locked onto Jessica. Their eyes met, and Jessica's heart hammered against her ribs. Recognition burned there—followed by hatred.

  "Tiffany," Mark finally acknowledged his girlfriend, his voice unnaturally deep, vibrating with suppressed rage. "Got held up."

  "You're burning up!" Tiffany exclaimed, touching his forehead. "Mark, you're sick!"

  Mark allowed himself to be led toward the dance floor, but his gaze repeatedly snapped back to Jessica. She signaled subtly to Salina and Kevin, who began moving to encircle the couple.

  "We need to isolate him," Jessica whispered as Kevin reached her side. "Before he completes the change."

  The romantic melody continued as Mark and Tiffany joined the other dancers. Jessica watched Tiffany speaking rapidly to Mark, her hand occasionally brushing the purse where she'd stored the antidote.

  "She's making her move," Jessica realized. "Be ready."

  The music swelled as Tiffany, hands trembling, reached into her purse. Jessica saw her palm the small vial, then maneuver behind Mark as they danced. With practiced cheerleader precision, Tiffany attempted to press the syringe against Mark's back.

  Mark's hand shot backward, seizing Tiffany's wrist with inhuman speed and crushing force.

  "What are you doing?" he snarled, whirling to face her.

  Terror widened Tiffany's eyes. "Mark, please—you need help!"

  "Help?" Mark's laugh rattled like broken glass. "Did she put you up to this?" His head jerked toward Jessica. "Did she?"

  The music screeched into silence as Mark's voice boomed with inhuman volume. Dancers froze around them, staring at the unfolding scene.

  "Mark," Tiffany whimpered, twisting her wrist in his grip. "You're hurting me!"

  "You betrayed me," Mark growled, his features beginning to distort. The flush of his skin deepened to crimson as veins bulged beneath his temples and neck. "You're all against me!"

  Jessica lunged forward, Kevin and Salina converging from different angles. They were seconds too late.

  With a bellow of rage, Mark flung Tiffany aside. She crashed into a cluster of stunned onlookers as Mark's body began to convulse. The seams of his tuxedo split along the shoulders and back as his muscles expanded grotesquely, his frame swelling with each spasm.

  "EVERYBODY OUT!" Jessica shouted, abandoning pretense. "NOW!"

  The gymnasium erupted into chaos. Screaming students stampeded toward exits as Mark's transformation accelerated. His skin darkened to blood-red, his face elongating into something barely recognizable as human, yellowed eyes bulging from their sockets.

  Jessica, Kevin, and Salina held their ground as the gym emptied, forming a triangle around the creature that had once been Mark Turner.

  "Antidote ready?" Jessica asked, her own body responding to the danger—nails lengthening into claws, canines sharpening against her lips.

  Kevin gripped the syringe, his expression grim. "One chance at this."

  Mark's transformation was completed with a series of wet, popping sounds as his skeleton reformed. Shredded remnants of his tuxedo hung from his massive frame as he rose to his full height, towering nearly ten feet tall. His misshapen head swiveled toward them, jagged teeth gleaming with saliva.

  "You poisoned her against me," the creature rumbled, its voice a nightmarish echo of Mark's. "You'll all bleed for it."

  The beast that was once Mark Turner threw back its head and howled—a sound that rattled ceiling tiles and shattered the magical atmosphere of prom night. As police sirens wailed in the distance, Jessica, Kevin, and Salina braced themselves for battle.

  Because prom night had only just begun.