chapter 7

Another day, another boring day at school. I went through my usual routine, but the monotony didn't last long. During morning announcements, we heard that the bus driver had been attacked. My memory sparked—I remembered he survived and had some connection to the Hale fire.

At lunch, I sat down with Scott and Stiles.

"Hey, guys. I'm guessing you heard about the bus driver," I said.

"Yeah," Scott replied, his face pale. "I think I did it."

"Why do you think that?" I asked, already suspecting his reasoning.

"I had this dream about attacking... and killing Allison—on the bus," Scott said, his voice trembling with worry and fear.

"Calm down. Is Allison okay?" I asked, trying to steady him.

They both nodded.

"Okay, do you remember anything from last night?"

"No," Scott admitted.

"I might have an idea to help you remember," I said, but before I could elaborate, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and a few others joined our table.

Some of them had to leave since there wasn't enough room, but the conversation turned to the bus driver's attack. The popular theory was that a mountain lion was responsible. I tuned most of it out until I heard Scott nervously say, "i'm a great bowler," which made me chuckle under my breath.

Later, I told Scott and Stiles to meet me at the school that night, near the bus where the attack happened.

That evening, Stiles pulled up in his Jeep with Scott riding shotgun. I was already waiting nearby in my car.

"So, why are we here?" Scott asked.

"You know how smells can trigger memories?" I explained.

They both nodded.

"That's why we're here. Scott's going to use his senses to try and remember what happened. Meanwhile, Stiles and I will be on lookout."

"What? Why can't I go?" Stiles protested.

"Because Scott needs to do this alone," I said firmly.

Reluctantly, Stiles agreed, and Scott climbed the fence to get to the bus while we stayed back in the Jeep.

As we waited, Stiles broke the silence. "So... who are your parents?"

The question caught me off guard, but I didn't let it show.

"I don't know. All I know is they left me a large sum of money," I replied.

"How are you living alone? Who's your guardian? You're only sixteen," Stiles pressed.

"My grandpa was my guardian before he passed. Before he died, he helped me get emancipated. He told me to move to Beacon Hills," I explained.

"Why?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Sorry for your loss," Stiles said sincerely.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

Just then, we saw someone moving in the shadows. Stiles honked the horn, a signal to warn Scott. I quickly got out of the Jeep and headed to my car. Once I saw Scott safely get into Stiles' Jeep, I drove home.

I got home, replaying what I had said to Stiles earlier. I knew it wasn't a lie. For some reason, after he asked about my parents, the answer had just appeared in my head—like a memory implanted out of nowhere.

I couldn't explain it, but I had a feeling it had something to do with this version of Kai.

"Aureon, we need to talk," I called out, hoping for a response.

Nothing happened.

I sighed, already expecting the silence. Still, a part of me had hoped for answers.

Frustrated, I headed down to my gym. The routine of working out grounded me, even when nothing else made sense. Hours passed, the ache in my muscles helping distract me from the chaos in my mind.

Then my phone buzzed.

Stiles: The bus driver's dead.

I stared at the message, a knot forming in my stomach. So, he had died.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to care. Something told me he wasn't an innocent victim. I was almost certain he had played a part in the Hale fire. His death felt inevitable, another consequence in a chain of events no one could stop.

Exhausted, I dragged myself to bed.

But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in my room.

The endless, swirling darkness of the void surrounded me again.

The void seemed endless, its darkness stretching infinitely in every direction. Then, a voice broke through the silence.

"Hello, Kai," Aureon's voice resonated, calm and composed, yet holding an otherworldly weight.

I turned, scanning the void, though I knew I wouldn't see him. "Aureon," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. "What's my story in this world?"

A pause hung in the air, as if he was weighing his answer carefully.

"I can't tell you that," Aureon finally said, his tone unreadable. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

Frustration bubbled to the surface. "Why not just tell me? You've already put me here, dropped me into someone else's life. What's the point of keeping me in the dark?"

"Some truths," he replied cryptically, "must be uncovered, not handed over. They shape who you are. If I tell you everything, you won't become who you're meant to be."

I clenched my fists, the weight of his words settling in my chest. "And what am I meant to be?"

"You'll see," he said simply.

The void began to shift, the darkness pulling away like mist. "When you wake, the pieces will start to come together. Pay attention, Kai. Every choice matters."

Before I could say more, the world dissolved, and I jolted awake in my bed, my heart pounding.

I woke up, my mind swirling with Aureon's cryptic words. "Who you're meant to be..." I muttered, staring at the ceiling. "What was he talking about?"

Shaking off the lingering thoughts, I got up and went through my usual morning routine. By the time I got to school, everything seemed normal—until I spotted Derek stumbling across the courtyard, looking like death warmed over.

My heart sank. "Wolfsbane," I whispered under my breath. That could only mean one thing. Kate Argent is in town. Great. That crazy b***.*

Before I could fully process it, Derek staggered toward Jackson. His eyes were wild, and he looked ready to do something reckless. I intercepted him.

"Derek, why are you here?" I asked, stepping between him and Jackson.

"I need help," he said through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, his breathing shallow. "Kate Argent shot me with a bullet, but it's... different. I can't heal."

The sound of the school bell jolted me. Students poured out of classrooms, and I knew we didn't have much time before someone noticed Derek's state.

"Come on," I said, grabbing his arm and guiding him toward the parking lot. "Let's get out of here before anyone sees you."

He stumbled but managed to keep up as I half-dragged him to my car. Once he was in, I peeled out of the lot, heading straight for my place. On the way, I shot off a quick text to Stiles and Scott.

Kai: Emergency. Meet me at my place. Derek's in trouble.

By the time we pulled into my driveway, Derek was slumped in the passenger seat, sweating and groaning in pain. I had to figure out what to do—and fast.