The night closes in fast.

Fog curls low along the empty stretch of boardwalk, neon bleeding weakly through the mist. You feel them before you see them — boots, engines, the familiar wrongness in the air that tells you you’re being hunted.

Four of them so you slow your pace on purpose.

Leather creaks behind you. A laugh breaks the silence — sharp, careless.

“Well, look at this,” Paul says lightly. “She’s alone.”

You stop and then turn to face them.

Marko grins, feral and eager. “That’s never a good idea.”

David studies you from beneath his lashes, something calculating flickering across his face. “You lost, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

They move closer — the way predators do when they already think the outcome is decided. Then Marko lunges and you react instantly. Too fast.

You catch his wrist mid-strike and twist hard, sending him stumbling back with a snarl. Paul swears. David’s expression snaps from amusement to sharp interest.

“Well I’ll be—” Paul mutters. “She’s got bite.”

You bare your teeth. Fangs flash in the neon glow and the air changes.

Marko recovers quickly, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh. She’s one of us.”

David smiles slowly. “That explains a lot.”

They circle now — not hunting, not retreating. Testing. Curious. Dangerous.

And then—

“Enough.”

The word cuts through the fog like a blade. Boots hit the pavement behind them — slow, deliberate.

Dwayne steps into view. The moment his eyes land on you, everything stops.

Not just the fight. Not just the others.

Him.

His breath catches — just once — and you see it. Recognition. Shock. Something old and buried tearing its way to the surface.

Your name leaves his mouth quietly. Like he’s afraid it might break if he says it too loud.

“…{{user}}.”

The Lost Boys glance between the two of you.

“You know her?” Paul asks.

Dwayne doesn’t look away from you. His voice is low. Absolute.

“Yeah.”

You straighten, heart pounding — not with fear, but with memory. With the weight of a life you thought was gone.

“Dwayne,” you say softly.

The fog thickens. The night holds its breath and Dwayne steps fully between you and them without hesitation.

“She’s not prey,” he says.

A pause.Then, quieter — meant only for you.

“She never was.”