Chapter 2 The Words That Weren't Mine (Ember's POV)

I stared at the notebook until my eyes burned, tracing the letters that were definitely in my handwriting.

"You're doing it again." Sage set her coffee mug down with more force than necessary.

"Doing what?"

"That thousand-yard stare thing. It's creepy." She leaned over my shoulder, squinting at the page. "What is that?"

I snapped the notebook shut. "Just some lyrics I was working on."

"At three in the morning? In your sleep?" Her eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. "Because I definitely heard you moving around last night, and your pen was clicking."

Heat crawled up my neck. "I couldn't sleep. Sometimes writing helps."

Sage didn't look convinced, but she let it drop. "Come on. If we hurry, we can watch football practice before first period."

"Since when do you care about football?"

"Since never. But you do, and I'm a supportive friend." She grinned and grabbed my arm, hauling me toward the door. "Besides, Mika said Trey's been running some kind of new training routine that's got the whole team acting weird."

The practice field stretched behind the athletic complex, surrounded by the same ancient pines that seemed to watch everything at Thornfield. Most of the early risers had claimed spots on the bleachers.

Trey stood at the center of it all.

"Holy shit," Sage breathed. "Do you see that?"

I followed her gaze to where Knox was demonstrating a tackle on one of the sophomore players.

"They're just good athletes."

"Ember." Sage grabbed my wrist, her fingers cold despite the morning sun. "That sophomore just hit the ground so hard I felt it in the bleachers. He should be unconscious."

But the kid was already bouncing back up, grinning like getting demolished was the highlight of his morning. No wobble, no pause to catch his breath. Just back into position like nothing happened.

"Maybe he's tougher than he looks."

"Or maybe they're all freaks of nature." Sage's voice carried an odd note I couldn't identify. "Look at the way they move. It's like they're all connected somehow."

She was right. The team moved with a synchronization that went beyond good coaching.

"We should go." I stood up, trying to shake off the weird feeling crawling up my spine. "First period starts in ten minutes."

But I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd seen.

During lunch, I caught myself watching Trey's table again, noting how the other players seemed to orbit around him even when they weren't talking.

"You're obsessing." Sage slid her tray across from mine, her voice flat with disapproval.

"I'm observing."

"You're stalking. There's a difference." She stabbed her cake with unnecessary violence. "What's your endgame here, Em? You planning to write his biography?"

"I just think he'd be perfect for those lyrics I wrote."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and Sage's fork froze halfway to her mouth.

"The creepy sleep-writing lyrics?"

"They're not creepy. They're just... different." I pulled the notebook from my bag, flipping to the page that had haunted me all morning. "Listen to this—'When silver eyes meet crimson moon, the wolf-born child shall rise too soon.' Doesn't that sound like something that would suit his voice?"

Sage read the full verse, her frown deepening with each line. "Ember, these lyrics are weird as hell. Ancient stone? Blood and bone? What kind of song are you trying to write?"

"I don't know. That's the point." I leaned forward, desperate to make her understand. "They feel important, like they're trying to tell me something. And every time I think about them, I picture Trey singing them."

"That's not normal."

"Since when is anything about me normal?" The words came out sharper than I meant them to. "Look, I'm going to give them to him. At the assembly this afternoon."

Sage's face went pale. "The assembly where you're supposed to be representing the volleyball team? Where the entire school will be watching?"

"It's perfect. Everyone will be there, including college scouts. If he likes the lyrics, maybe he'll want to perform them, and..."

"And if he doesn't like them? If he thinks you're completely insane?" Sage leaned across the table, her voice urgent. "Em, you barely know this guy. What makes you think he wants some random girl shoving weird poetry at him in front of half the student body?"

But I wasn't listening anymore. Across the dining hall, Trey had stood up from his table. He walked with predatory grace, like he was always ready to pounce, and when he turned toward the exit, his eyes swept the room in a way that felt more like a territorial survey than casual observation.

Our eyes met for the second time in two days, and this time I didn't look away.

Then Knox appeared at Trey's shoulder, whispering something that made Trey's expression darken, and they were gone.

"Jesus, Ember." Sage's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"The way you two just looked at each other. Like you were having some kind of psychic conversation."

I forced myself to focus on my sandwich, trying to ignore the way my hands were shaking. "You're imagining things."

Every instinct I had was screaming at me to follow Trey, to find out where he'd gone and what Knox had said to make him look so dangerous.

Instead, I spent the afternoon in the gym, throwing myself into an extra volleyball practice that left my teammates staring.

"Thorne!" Coach Martinez's whistle cut through my concentration. "What's gotten into you? You're playing like you're on fire."

I wasn't on fire. I was burning from the inside out, and the only thing that helped was moving faster, jumping higher, pushing my body until it screamed for mercy.

By the time the assembly started, my nerves felt like live wires.

I sat with the volleyball team in the designated section, the notebook containing my mysterious lyrics in my bag. Every few seconds, I touched it through the canvas, making sure it was still there.

"Are you actually going to do this?" Jessica leaned over from the row behind us. "Give Trey Jarred your phone number disguised as song lyrics?"

"They're not, it's not my phone number." I turned to glare at her. "They're legitimate lyrics. Artistic expression."

"Right. And I'm sure the fact that you've been stalking him all semester is totally unrelated."

Before I could respond, Principal Keagan took the podium, and the great hall fell silent. She launched into the usual announcements, upcoming events, academic achievements, reminders about the honor code, but I barely heard her. My attention was locked on the football team's section, where Trey sat with his usual commanding presence.

He wasn't paying attention to the principal either. His eyes kept scanning the crowd, and twice I caught him looking in my direction.

"Student presentations begin now," Principal Keagan announced, and my stomach dropped to my toes. "First up, representing our volleyball team's recent regional championship, Miss Ember Thorne."

The applause felt distant and hollow as I stood up, legs shaking. Sage grabbed my wrist as I moved past her.

"You don't have to do this," she whispered urgently. "It's not too late to just talk about the championship and sit down."

But I was already walking toward the podium, the notebook clutched in my sweating palms.

I reached the microphone and cleared my throat, looking out at the sea of expectant faces.

"Good afternoon, everyone." My voice echoed off the stone walls, stronger than I felt. "I'm supposed to talk about our volleyball championship, but I wanted to share something else first."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. In the front row, Principal Keagan frowned and made a subtle "wrap it up" gesture.

I opened the notebook with trembling fingers. "These are some lyrics I wrote. I think they're meant to be sung, and I'd like to dedicate them to someone who I believe could bring them to life."

The great hall had gone deadly quiet. Even the faculty looked intrigued. I found Trey in the crowd, and for one perfect moment, his expression was exactly what I'd hoped for, surprised, curious, maybe even impressed.

Then I started reading, and everything went wrong.