Page 22

Ethan sighs, dropping his foam claws to his lap. “I don’t know. I think there’s something going on between him and Evander. Either that or it’s the pressure getting to him. It must be tough being a human on a monster team.”

My heart aches a little for our roommate. Kieran might act like a stoic jerk eighty percent of the time, but I think it’s just a front. He’s one of us, and he isn’t as bad as people seem to think. I’ve grown close with him recently, and he’s a good guy. He works out on his walking pad in our bonus room all hours in the morning when he can't sleep, churning through something he refuses to speak out loud.

"He just needs to get out of his own head."

"Try telling him that without getting your head bitten off," Ethan chuckles, though he looks genuinely concerned, too.

Behind us, Ryker shifts his weight. Even in the middle of a screaming crowd, his presence is reassuring. I lean back just a fraction of an inch, letting my shoulder press against his forearm. Ryker doesn't pull away, not like before. Instead, he leans into my touch, his body pressing back against mine.

Around us, a few fans stare. Ever since Ghouloo made their official announcement for Empire of Beasts and started sharing teasers on social media, I’ve gained quite a bit of attention here on campus. I get the feeling that this will be my one and only football game I’ll be able to attend.

I hear the muffled whispers as a few people recognize me despite the hat, but most of them stare at Ryker. A muscular purple gargoyle with striking blue eyes, and a jawline carved from granite tends to draw attention. A group of college girls two rows down keep glancing back, giggling behind their hands and whispering about "the sexy monster."

And even though I want to claw their eyes out, Ryker ignores them. His focus entirely on me, his gaze dropping to linger on my lips before meeting my eyes. The heat in his expression makes my breath hitch. If we weren't in a stadium packed with screaming students, I’d pull him down by his collar and makeout with him right here.

"You're distracting me," I murmur under my breath, pretending to watch my roomie on the field.

"I haven't said a word," Ryker replies smoothly. His tail wraps around my leg before sliding up.

A moan tumbles from my lips before I can stop it. I clap my hands over my mouth, mortified.

A soft, rare chuckle escapes his chest, and he shrugs. "My bad."

I smile, my pulse fluttering. Monster gods, I’m falling for him. “Fucking tease.”

The stadium explodes into another deafening roar as Creepin U breaks through Shuford’s defensive line and scores a touchdown. Ethan leaps to his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing his arms in the air.

I stand up with him, clapping vigorously and cheering for the team. Ryker stands up right beside me. His eyes scan the crowd out of habit, before joining me in cheering.

That's when it happens.

As I scan the players below, trying to spot my roomie, a prickling sensation suddenly washes over the back of my neck. A skin-crawling instinct that tells me I’m being watched. My laughter dies in my throat. I slow my clapping, my eyes trailing away from the field and down toward the tunnel where the players enter the field.

The stadium is a chaotic sea of school colors, people jumping, cheering, and waving banners.

Everyone is moving. Except for one person.

Standing near the tunnel’s entrance is a single figure. Rather than staring ahead, their back is to the team, staring up at the crowd.

They’re wearing an oversized hoodie pulled down low, shadowing the upper half of their face. But even from this distance, I can feel the suffocating weight of their gaze pinned directly on me.

Fuck. They’re focused entirely on me.

My breath catches in my chest. The figure stands completely still amidst the jumping crowd, their posture stiff and unnerving. My mind instantly flashes back to the creepy package left on the bench on my first day of school. To the unsettling notes, and the feeling that someone from my past idol days has tracked me all the way to Creelin.

A stalker.

A cold spike of dread slams into my stomach. My first instinct is to grab Ryker’s arm. To point out the figure and let my large gargoyle bodyguard handle it. I start to turn toward Ryker, but the moment I look at his face, I freeze.

Ryker is standing tall beside me, his jaw set, his gaze alert as he scans the opposite side of the stadium. But beneath that stoic, protective exterior, I remember the absolute vulnerability in his eyes last night in our room. I remember the way his voice cracked when he talked about waking up ten years ago with no name, no memory, and no past, feeling like an isolated freak. I remember how peacefully he finally slept when he thought he wasn't alone anymore.

He’s carrying so much. He’s spending every waking second worrying about my safety, blaming himself for things he can't control, all while carrying the heavy, silent ache of lost memories.

If I point out the dark hood right now, Ryker will go into full, terrifying lockdown mode. He’ll tear through the stadium. His protective instincts will flare into something primal, and the fragile peace and closeness we’ve built will be consumed by paranoia and stress.

I can't do that to him. To us. Not tonight. Not when I’m already working behind the scenes to find him answers. Not when he’s finally holding me at night and flirting back. Not when I don’t know if this threat is real.

I swallow hard, forcing my muscles to relax. I force a bright, cheerful smile onto my face and look back toward the hooded figure. The shadow in the doorway takes a slow step backward into the dark tunnel, lingering for one more agonizing second, before disappearing completely.