Baby Superman

The Humvee's engine growled through the Appalachian night, tires crunching over frost-laced gravel. The trees pressed in close, their branches reaching like skeletal fingers, while clouds smothered the moon. Only the dashboard's glow offered any light, casting everything in sickly green shadows.

Inside the vehicle, the tension was suffocating.

Luther sat rigid in the passenger seat, rifle across his lap, sharp blue eyes scanning the trees with predatory focus. Decades of hunting had left their mark in the lines of his face, in the way he held himself—always ready, always watching. In the driver's seat, Rogan handled the treacherous road with the kind of casual competence that came from too many nights like this one, his scarred hands steady on the wheel.

Milly kept watch over Ethan in the back, where he lay sprawled against the cold interior. His skin had a waxy sheen, and the dim red overhead light deepened the shadows under his eyes. She'd seen enough supernatural transitions to know this one was different—more violent, more primal.

"How much farther?" Milly's voice cut through the silence, tight with carefully controlled worry.

"An hour. Maybe less," Luther murmured, still watching the trees. "But we've got to clear the ridge first. We'll be sitting ducks up there."

Milly pressed her fingers to Ethan's forehead, her touch clinical. "Good. Because he's burning up. That bond's not going to settle itself. It's consuming him from the inside out."

Luther finally turned, his expression grave. "And if it doesn't?"

"Then he burns out before we get there. Or worse—" Her voice dropped, eyes flicking toward Ethan. "The bond snaps. If that happens, he and Julian are both dead by sunrise. That kind of connection isn't something you walk away from."

Julian's name sent a ripple through the vehicle. Even unconscious, Ethan seemed to react, the air around him growing heavy with potential.

"You sure about him?" Rogan broke the silence, hands steady on the wheel.

"No," Luther admitted. "But Lenny is. And if Alpha Lenny's sure, that's good enough for me."

Milly studied Ethan with narrowed eyes. "He's not just wolf, Luther. There's something else in him. Something older. More dangerous."

The radio crackled. Quinn's voice came through tight with tension: "Movement on the ridge. Multiple signatures. They're hunting us."

Luther snatched the radio. "What kind of signatures?"

"Rogues. Maybe hunters. At least a dozen, closing fast. These aren't strays, Luther. They're moving like a unit."

"Hold position," Luther commanded. "We push through."

Milly cursed under her breath. "Rogues and hunters working together? That's like finding out your mortal enemies started a book club."

Luther's expression hardened. "Someone's pulling strings. And they want him badly enough to make it happen."

The world exploded into chaos as the first rogue hit them with devastating force. The Humvee rocked, windshield shattering into a thousand glittering pieces. The impact yanked Ethan from unconsciousness, his eyes snapping open to a reality that had decided to speedrun through his worst nightmares.

Everything hurt. His skin felt too tight, his blood too hot, like he was running a fever that would probably qualify as a medical emergency. Through the bond, he felt Julian's terror hit like an emotional uppercut.

"What is even happening right now?" Ethan gasped, his words lost in the cacophony of metal and snarls.

Another rogue slammed into the vehicle's side, leaving claw marks that would definitely void the warranty. The bond flared in Ethan's chest, a hot wire of connection and need that made everything else feel distant and unreal.

Then something inside him... shifted.

It started as warmth in his chest, spreading through his limbs like he'd just chugged five energy drinks and possibly invented a few new ones. His skin buzzed with energy he didn't understand, power he'd never felt before surging through his veins.

The first rogue that came for him learned exactly how much that power translated to pure strength. Ethan caught its lunging form mid-air, his hands finding purchase in thick fur. The creature's momentum should have torn him apart—instead, he used it, redirecting its mass in a move that would have made physics teachers cry. The rogue slammed into the ground hard enough to leave an impression, its whimper cut short by unconsciousness.

The next one tried for his throat, all gnashing teeth and primal fury. Ethan moved like someone had uploaded combat skills directly into his brain, ducking under razor-sharp claws and coming up with a punch that sent the beast flying backward. It hit a tree with a crack that suggested several expensive vet bills in its future.

A massive rogue, scarred and battle-hardened, charged from the shadows. This one moved with purpose, its attacks coordinated in a way that spoke of experience. It feinted left, then struck right, trying to force Ethan into a defensive position. But something in his blood sang with ancient knowledge, guiding his movements with deadly precision.

He caught the rogue's strike, muscles straining against supernatural strength. The creature's eyes widened in surprise—clearly, it wasn't used to prey fighting back quite so effectively. Ethan used that moment of hesitation, twisting and throwing the rogue with strength that definitely wasn't standard werewolf issue. The beast sailed through the air like gravity had personally offended it, landing in a heap of fur and wounded pride.

"Kid's got moves," Milly muttered, her revolvers tracking multiple targets.

Luther's response was cut short as two more rogues burst from the underbrush, moving in perfect sync. These weren't mindless beasts—they fought like trained soldiers, coordinating their attacks with lethal precision. One went high, the other low, trying to catch Ethan in a deadly pincer movement.

Time seemed to slow. The bond pulsed in his chest, hot and bright, and something else answered—something that had been waiting, dormant, for exactly this moment.

It started as warmth in his palms, a tingling sensation that spread up his arms. The first rogue was inches away, jaws open wide enough to demonstrate its impressive dental work, when Ethan's hands came up in a defensive gesture that suddenly, inexplicably, erupted into flames.

Fire burst from his palms like he'd been hiding flamethrowers up his sleeves, catching everyone—including himself—completely off guard. The flames wrapped around the charging rogue, turning its snarl of rage into a yelp of surprise and pain. The second rogue skidded to a halt, its tactical approach dissolving into pure survival instinct as it scrambled backward from the wall of fire.

"Holy shit," Ethan managed, staring at his hands with the kind of shock usually reserved for finding out your favorite show got canceled.

"What the—" Milly's professional composure cracked slightly.

More rogues burst from the trees because apparently, they hadn't gotten the memo about spontaneous pyrokinesis being a game-changer. The fire responded to Ethan's will like it had always been there, just waiting for him to hit the right combination of stress and adrenaline to unlock it.

He moved on pure instinct now, each gesture sending flames cutting through the darkness. A wave of his hand created a barrier of fire that forced three rogues to retreat, their fur singed and smoking. Another motion sent a whip of flames lashing through the air, catching a rogue mid-leap and sending it crashing back into the underbrush with a yelp that suggested serious regret about its life choices.

The power felt both alien and familiar, like discovering a skill tree he didn't know he had. Each burst of fire came easier than the last, his body adapting to this new ability with frightening speed. The flames danced at his command, turning the dark forest into a deadly light show.

Luther's voice cut through the chaos: "Well, that's new."

A particularly massive rogue, apparently missing the "fire is dangerous" memo they teach in basic predator school, charged straight through the flames. It emerged looking like the world's angiest marshmallow, fur smoking and eyes wild with pain and fury. Ethan met its charge with a concentrated blast that picked the creature up and slammed it into a tree hard enough to crack bark.

The remaining rogues finally decided that maybe attacking the guy who'd just unlocked fire powers wasn't the best strategic choice. They retreated into the shadows, leaving behind their fallen companions and the lingering scent of singed fur. The night filled with the sounds of hasty retreat, branches breaking and undergrowth crashing as the survivors fled.

Ethan stood in the aftermath, watching flames dance across his skin like they belonged there. His clothes had somehow survived, which was honestly the least believable part of this whole situation. The power thrummed through his blood, no longer chaotic but focused, like it had finally found its proper channel.

The fire gradually faded, sinking back beneath his skin, but he could still feel it there. Waiting. Ready. Like he'd downloaded an update he couldn't uninstall.

"So," he said, looking at his hands, which were surprisingly un-crispy, "that's definitely not normal werewolf stuff, right? Because I feel like this would have come up in orientation."

Luther's expression was unreadable. "We need to get you to Moonvale. Fast." He glanced at their scorched surroundings. "Before whoever sent these rogues decides to send something worse."

Through the bond, Ethan felt Julian's distant presence pulse in response to the power surge. Whatever this was, it was connected to their bond, to the ancient power stirring in his blood.

Behind them, the forest smoldered, looking like the aftermath of nature's most extreme light show. Whatever was awakening in Ethan had just announced itself to the supernatural world, and he had a feeling the universe was about to hit him with the mother of all difficulty spikes.

He climbed back into the Humvee, trying to process the fact that he could apparently create fire now. Just another totally normal night in the life of a supernatural whatever-he-was.

The hunt was just beginning, and Ethan had a feeling he'd just unlocked a power that was going to attract exactly the kind of attention he didn't need. But hey, at least he had a new answer for "what's your superpower?"

Somewhere in the darkness, something was watching, calculating, planning its next move. Because a display like that? That was going to attract attention. The kind of attention that came with teeth, claws, and probably a much better strategy than "rush the guy who just discovered he's basically a supernatural lighter."