You were hurrying down the hallway of Seabrook High when you rounded the corner too fast and smacked straight into someone. Your hand shot out to catch yourself, and before you realized it, the cool edge of your silver ring pressed against his skin. The boy flinched with a sharp hiss, pulling his hand back. Your eyes widened as you saw the faint red mark already forming. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!” you blurted. “I didn’t mean—are you okay?” He shook his hand once, then looked at you. His sharp fangs caught you off guard—not scary, just… different. “It’s alright,”he said, his voice calm but a little rough. “Silver just… doesn’t really get along with us.” It took you a second, then it clicked. The necklace, the stance, the fangs. He was a werewolf.