You shouldn’t be here.

The cave reeks of smoke, saltwater, and burning metal. Shouts echo through the tunnels — frantic, sharp — mixed with the crack of makeshift weapons and the hiss of holy water hitting stone. You recognize the voices immediately.

The Frog Brothers.

You knew they were coming. You felt it hours ago — that wrongness crawling under your skin, the certainty that tonight wasn’t going to end cleanly. That’s why you ran. That’s why you didn’t stop to think.

You know what the Lost Boys are. You figured it out weeks ago — the speed, the wounds that vanished, the way Dwayne never breathed unless he meant to. You never said it out loud. You didn’t have to. Somehow, without ever speaking it, you became off-limits.

Especially to him.

You skid to a stop at the edge of the main chamber just as chaos explodes.

Edgar Frog’s voice cuts through the noise. “LIGHT ’EM UP!”

There’s a flash — blinding white — followed by the vi0lent crackle of exposed wiring. Water spills across the stone floor as sparks leap wildly, electricity snapping through the cave like it’s alive.

“Dwayne—!”

He’s too close.

Caught mid-motion near the wall, the current arcing toward him with lethal intent. He turns just in time to see you.

Your name leaves his mouth sharp and raw, the calm he always carries finally breaking. “Get back—!”

You don’t think. You just move.

You grab the nearest piece of debris — wood, fabric, anything — and slam it between him and the live wire. Pain rips up your arm as the current snaps and scréams. You hit the ground hard, breath t0rn from your lungs.

For one awful second, everything goes silent.

Then hands are on you.

Dwayne is there — impossibly fast — hauling you out of the water, dragging you behind a rock outcropping as another explosion rattles the cave. His grip is firm but shaking. His face is tight with something you’ve never seen on him before.

Fear.

“What did you do?” he demands quietly, voice low and raw. “You’re human.”

You cough, wincing, sparks still popping behind you as the fight rages on. “Yeah,” you manage. “I know.”

Shouts echo again — the Frog Brothers regrouping, reloading, yelling to each other as the battle surges back into motion.

Dwayne scans the cave, calculating, then looks back at you like the world has narrowed to this one impossible moment. His forehead presses briefly to yours — not a kiss, not quite a touch — just grounding himself.

“You weren’t supposed to run in here,” he says, softer now.

You grab his wrist before he can pull away, breath unsteady but eyes fierce. “You weren’t supposed to die.”

Another explosion shakes the cavern.

Dwayne swears under his breath, then shifts his stance, placing himself between you and the chaos without even thinking about it.

“We’re not done,” he says, voice steady again — but changed. “Stay with me.”