Head Games

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, filling the dimly lit room with flickering shadows. The warmth should have been comforting, but Xavier sat stiffly on the edge of the cot, his hands clasped together, his knuckles white.

His stomach twisted, his body restless. It had been two nights since he fed, and though the hunger had yet to return in full force, something inside him felt off. The house smelled different, sharper, more vivid than before. Every breath brought in layers of scents he had never noticed before—the aged wood of the floorboards, the dampness of the evening air that seeped through the cracks in the shutters. And underneath it all, something richer.

Something alive.

His gaze flickered toward the doorway, where soft footsteps approached. The scent grew stronger. A heartbeat followed, steady but light.

Kayla.

Xavier clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. The scent of blood was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there. It hadn't been this strong before.

Kayla stepped into the room, leaning against the doorframe, her dark eyes sharp even in the low light. She crossed her arms, studying him with something bordering on amusement.

"You look like you're about to pounce on something," she remarked.

Xavier forced a smirk. "Maybe I am."

Her lips twitched, but she didn't look away. "You're getting stronger."

He wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a warning.

Xavier exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't feel stronger. I feel… off."

Kayla pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. "Yeah? What's wrong?"

Xavier hesitated. He didn't know how to explain it. Everything was wrong.

His body felt wired, his skin too tight, his senses tuned to things he had never noticed before. He could hear the faint creak of the wooden beams overhead, the rhythmic tapping of Zander's foot in the next room. And Kayla—he could hear her heartbeat, steady, warm, calling to him in a way that made his stomach twist in ways he didn't understand.

Or maybe he did.

His fingers curled into fists.

Kayla frowned slightly. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Xavier stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "I need air."

Kayla didn't move. "You need more than that."

The night was cool, the sky a deep stretch of black, dotted with stars. Xavier stood near the back of Zander's house, breathing in the crisp air, trying to push down the restless energy buzzing beneath his skin.

It wasn't working.

His hands trembled. His throat felt dry. And that damn scent lingered, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

His fingers dug into his palms.

Five months. That's all he had before this got worse. Five months before he lost himself to something he barely understood.

The door creaked behind him. Light footsteps.

Kayla.

He didn't need to turn around to know it was her.

She stopped just a few steps away, the air shifting slightly as she folded her arms. "Running doesn't help, you know."

Xavier exhaled through his nose. "What does?"

She hummed, considering. "Control."

Xavier scoffed, shaking his head. "That's easy for you to say."

"Is it?"

He turned to face her, only to find her watching him with an unreadable expression.

Xavier frowned. "You don't seem like you struggle with this."

Kayla smirked. "I haven't turned yet, remember? My birthday isn't for two more years."

Xavier stiffened. He had forgotten. She wasn't like him. Not yet.

But she would be.

Kayla stepped closer, tilting her head slightly. "You're still fighting it, aren't you?"

Xavier clenched his jaw. "I have to."

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Before he could respond, she moved, faster than he expected, stepping right into his space.

Xavier stiffened. He could smell her, feel the warmth radiating off her skin, the steady rhythm of her pulse just beneath the surface.

His throat tightened.

She smiled, slow and knowing. "You're breathing weird."

Xavier forced himself to step back. "You're too close."

Kayla raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

She didn't move.

Xavier swallowed hard. His instincts screamed at him to close the space again, but for all the wrong reasons.

Kayla's smirk widened. "You know, Zander told me something funny the other day."

Xavier exhaled sharply. "I'm afraid to ask."

She leaned in just slightly. "He said you were hopeless when it came to talking to girls."

Xavier groaned, running a hand down his face. "Of course he did."

Kayla laughed, the sound light and teasing. "He's not wrong."

Xavier narrowed his eyes at her. "I was fine until you decided to invade my personal space."

Kayla tapped her chin. "Mmm, I don't know. You look like you might pass out."

Xavier scowled. "I am not—"

Then she reached up, brushing her fingers lightly against his neck.

Xavier's entire body locked up.

His breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs. His instincts screamed, his fangs itched, his vision narrowed—

He grabbed her wrist before he even realized he had moved.

Kayla didn't flinch.

Xavier did.

The world rushed back into focus. His grip on her wrist tightened for half a second, then he let go and stumbled backward, eyes wide, breath unsteady.

Kayla tilted her head, watching him carefully. "And there it is."

Xavier pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, his stomach twisting violently.

She had done it on purpose.

She had tested him.

And he had nearly lost.

Kayla sighed, placing a hand on her hip. "You need to learn to control that."

Xavier shook his head. "What the hell was that?"

Kayla crossed her arms. "The real question is: What were you about to do?"

Xavier felt sick.

The moment her fingers had touched his skin, his instincts had screamed at him to take.

To drink.

To feed.

And if he hadn't stopped himself…

He clenched his fists. "I would never hurt you."

Kayla raised an eyebrow. "Then learn how to control it."

Xavier looked away, his chest heaving. His heart was still pounding, his skin still too warm, his body still too tense.

Kayla stepped closer again, but this time her expression was gentler. "It's not going to be easy. But you're not alone."

Xavier let out a slow breath. "I don't feel like myself anymore."

Kayla smirked. "That's because you're not."

Xavier swallowed hard. The words hit too deep.

Because he knew she was right.

He wasn't the same.

And soon, he wouldn't be at all…

…That night, Xavier didn't sleep.

The fire burned low in the hearth, shadows flickering across the walls. He sat on the edge of his cot, staring at his hands.

The urge had been so strong.

Kayla had trusted him. And in that moment, he had almost failed.

His breathing slowed, steady, controlled.

He had to control it.

He had five months to figure this out.

Because if he didn't…

The next time, he might not stop himself.