The Predator  

Seraphina didn't bother going to her second class.

Her body still hummed with power, but her head was a mess—overstimulated, confused, alert in ways she didn't understand. The creature inside her had stopped looking at people like food. Now, it seemed more interested in labeling them. Sorting them. And she didn't like the way it was reacting to some of them.

Her skin prickled constantly, like she was being watched.

Not hunted. She didn't feel fear or that someone was getting ready to attack her. But the eyes on her were starting to get to her. The creature inside of her wanted to stalk anyone who so much as looked at her and pound them into the pavement.

So instead of heading to Building C for her next lecture, she pulled up her hood and walked the long way back to the dorms.

The university campus was quieter during the lunch hour. A few students lounged near the library steps, tossing a football back and forth while others lined up at the Tim's counter in the main building, laughing and scrolling their phones. It looked normal, it sounded normal.

But every nerve and muscle in her body disagreed.

She crossed the quad, jaw clenched, fingers twitching with the need to… move. To do something. Everything around her felt slightly off-kilter. Too loud. Too quiet. Too fast. Too slow. Too full of… challenge.

When she finally opened her dorm door, she was greeted by the sound of a hairdryer, thumping music, and the smell of dry shampoo and vanilla perfume.

Her roommate spun around in her desk chair, eyebrows shooting up.

"Well, well, well," Jodie smirked, eyes dancing with amusement. "Didn't think I'd see you before sunset. That has to be a record for you… that walk of shame. Tell me that he made it good for you."

Sera didn't bother to answer. Instead, she forced a tight smile and went to her closet, grabbing a few shirts and her small black duffel bag. Her body tensed the moment she stepped past Jodie, like a hand had curled around her spine and was tugging her back to her roommate.

The creature stirred again, not with hunger, but with recognition.

Another one.

She didn't know what made them different. They didn't smell weird. They didn't act weird. But her body knew. Some primal part of her was reacting, and no amount of logic could talk it down.

"You look like you got hit by a snow plow," Jodie said lightly, fluffing her hair in the mirror. "Rough night?"

"Something like that," Sera muttered, stuffing her things into the bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Don't forget your murder-face moisturizer," Jodie teased. "You always get that scary stare when you skip sleep."

Sera smiled again—barely—and slipped out the door without another word.

By the time she reached the gym, the pressure under her skin had only grown worse.

The lobby was crowded. Men and women with tape around their knuckles moved in and out of the change rooms. The air stank of sweat, chalk, testosterone, and an unlying layer of spilled blood. This was a place of strength. Of contact. Of pain.

And for the first time since she had walked in here, she wanted to be part of it.

Not as a cleaner.

Not as a bystander.

As a predator. As the predator.

She made her way to the back, where the sparring rings were set up, and leaned against the wall. Her hoodie hung loose around her frame, her expression flat, but her eyes never stopped moving.

There.

Three men in the corner.

One was stretching, another shadowboxing, the third leaning over the ropes laughing at a joke. They weren't doing anything threatening. But her pulse responded like a drumbeat. Her legs coiled like springs.

Her pupils dilated. Her breathing slowed. Her teeth itched.

It wasn't hunger.

It was the unmistakable instinct to engage. To prove dominance.

To win.

Sera took a step forward before she could stop herself. Just one.

The hardwood under her boot creaked.

"Hey," called out a deep voice from behind her. A hand caught her arm, gentle but firm.

She blinked and turned her head.

Lachlan.

He looked different today. His hair damp from a shower, a fresh cut on his cheekbone, a towel slung over his shoulder. But it wasn't the change in appearance that threw her. It was the look in his eyes. He was watching her like he'd seen something in her stance, and he was reacting to her stiffly. Like she was a threat.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, soothing. He was speaking to her like he would speak to an animal that might rip someone apart.

She stared at him. For a moment, the fog of instinct cleared just enough to nod. Her shoulders dropped slightly.

Lachlan released her, but not before he glanced back at the sparring ring she'd been eyeing.

His brow furrowed. "You were gonna jump in, weren't you?" he asked, his voice still low as he spread his hands out in front of him.

"I don't know," she replied honestly.

"You looked ready to kill someone," he pressed. His brows furrowed as if he was trying to work something out, but then he simply took a breath and relaxed his muscles.

She smiled faintly. "That's not new."

"No," he agreed, cocking his head. "I just wanted to let you know that Daniel is gone. So is Caleb, if that is any consolation."

"Daniel?" repeated Sera, like the word was unfamiliar to her. "Who's Daniel?"

"The guy that we caught doping up? I thought that was what you were looking for. Craig used to hang out with the two of them." He pointed in the direction of the man hanging on the ropes.

"That must be it," she laughed under her breath, quiet and bitter. "Honestly, I think it would be fun to try and start boxing."

Lachlan studied her for a long moment. "Is this about what you said the other day?"

She didn't answer.

"Whatever's going on with you, just… don't start something you can't finish. These guys don't pull punches."

Sera looked toward the ring again. "Neither do I."

Lachlan exhaled slowly. "Okay. That's fair. If you want to fight someone, why don't I take you into the rings and we'll go a round or two."

Sera's eyes narrowed as she looked at him for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah," she shrugged, a half smile on her lips. "I wouldn't want to hurt you. It might destroy the reputation of the Ironhide Gym if the boss gets beaten by a girl."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head before he backed off, heading toward the training mats to start his session.

But Sera didn't move. Not right away.

Her body was still wired, her nerves strung too tight. But for the first time since stepping into the gym, she wasn't on the verge of exploding.

Somehow, Lachlan's presence was grounding. Not soothing. Not safe. Just… solid.

She reached up, pinched the bridge of her nose, and exhaled.

Whatever was happening inside her—this shift from hunger to aggression—wasn't going away.

She wasn't prey anymore.

And she wasn't just a predator.

She was evolving.

And it was only going to get harder to pretend she wasn't.