The living room lights were on. The yellow glow spilled across the hardwood floors and up the walls, casting long shadows across the furniture. The television was still on, muted, showing flashing news footage of the destruction in Redwood—cars overturned, shattered storefronts, police tape flapping in the wind.

  But that wasn't what made my stomach drop.

  It was them.

  My mom and dad were standing in the living room.

  Waiting.

  They weren't sitting on the couch like usual. They weren't distracted by work or half-watching television like most nights. They were standing side by side, facing the door, like they had been standing there for a long time.

  Waiting for me.

  My chest tightened immediately.

  They never waited for me.

  They were always busy. Always working. Always coming home late.

  But tonight…

  They looked like they had been expecting something.

  Or fearing it.

  I slowly closed the door behind me, the soft click of the lock sounding way louder than it should have.

  My eyes darted around the room, instinctively searching for clues.

  Anything.

  Something on the table.

  A broken window.

  A letter.

  But nothing stood out.

  Just the house.

  The same house that always felt empty when I came home.

  Except tonight it wasn't empty.

  My mom had her hands pressed tightly over her mouth, like she was trying to stop herself from crying. Her eyes were red and glossy, tears already spilling down her cheeks.

  My dad stood beside her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

  His jaw was clenched.

  His face was red.

  And then he spoke.

  "Where have you been?"

  His voice hit me like a slap.

  "I've been calling you," he continued, louder now. "We've both been calling you all night."

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and waved it angrily.

  "Did you not see what just happened on the streets tonight?"

  My stomach sank.

  His voice rose even more.

  "Maniacs fighting in the middle of the city. Some kind of monster coming out of a portal."

  He pointed toward the television.

  "It's all over the news!"

  This was the first time in my life I had ever seen my dad this angry.

  The first time he had ever yelled at me.

  And it felt… wrong.

  Like the roles had suddenly shifted and I didn't know where I stood anymore.

  But what hit me even harder was my mom.

  She was crying.

  Not just tearing up.

  Crying.

  My mom was always calm. Always composed. Always the one who smoothed things over whenever me and my dad argued.

  But that calm presence was gone.

  Her voice trembled as she spoke.

  "I don't know what to do, William."

  Hearing my full name made my chest tighten even more.

  "William Ashbourne…"

  She looked at me like she was trying to recognize someone she had never seen before.

  "What happened to you, son?"

  Her eyes scanned my body.

  My arms.

  My clothes.

  My face.

  "Where did those injuries come from?"

  Her voice cracked.

  "Where are the bruises supposed to be?"

  She stepped forward slowly, her hands shaking.

  "You were out there. We saw people fighting on the news. People getting thrown through walls."

  Her voice grew softer.

  "So where have you been?"

  My mouth opened.

  But nothing came out.

  The words just… disappeared.

  "And your hair," she said quietly.

  Her voice sounded almost broken now.

  "I don't even know what to say about your hair."

  Her eyes were wide with confusion.

  "But you're telling us everything now."

  The demand hung in the air like a blade.

  Hair?

  I blinked.

  Then instinctively turned toward the mirror hanging on the wall beside the door.

  For the first time since earlier…

  I actually looked.

  My breath caught.

  The red streaks in my hair had spread.

  Before, they had only been highlights—small strands at the tips.

  Now the color had crept further upward, threading through the dark like veins of crimson fire. It looked almost natural now… like the red was slowly replacing the black.

  Kai had mentioned it earlier.

  But I hadn't really thought about it.

  Now I couldn't stop staring.

  "Damn it!"

  My dad's voice snapped me back.

  "Answer us!"

  His fist slammed against the table.

  "Say something!"

  My mind raced.

  Think.

  Think.

  Think.

  If I told them the truth, they'd panic.

  They'd try to stop me.

  They'd try to keep me safe.

  And if they did that…

  People would die.

  So I said the only thing I could.

  "I was walking home," I said quietly.

  "When the attack started."

  My dad's eyes narrowed.

  "And?"

  "I took cover."

  My mom's eyebrows furrowed.

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  "You took cover?"

  Her voice shook.

  "Then why do you have injuries all over you?"

  My heart pounded harder.

  "I…"

  The words felt like stones in my throat.

  "I can't say."

  The room went silent.

  Then my dad exploded.

  "You can't say?"

  His voice echoed through the house.

  "You're a teenager!"

  "A kid!"

  "We're your parents!"

  He stepped toward me, his anger filling the room.

  "You don't get to have secrets from us!"

  Something inside my chest snapped.

  I had been holding it in all night.

  The battle.

  The fear.

  The stress.

  Kai.

  The Society.

  The argument with my team.

  Everything.

  But hearing him say that—

  After years of coming home to an empty house.

  After years of silence.

  After years of them never being there—

  Something broke.

  My fists clenched.

  "What does it even matter?" I said.

  My mom immediately raised her finger.

  "Watch your tone."

  But the anger was already boiling over.

  "What does it matter?" I repeated.

  My voice shook.

  "You're never here."

  Their faces froze.

  "I come home," I continued, my chest rising and falling faster, "and the house is empty."

  "Every day."

  "Every night."

  My voice grew louder.

  "You're only here when it's convenient for you!"

  The words felt like they had been buried inside me for years.

  "So what does it matter?" I shouted.

  "Any day I could be dead!"

  My mom flinched.

  "And you'd probably come home and not even notice!"

  "That's enough."

  My dad's voice was cold now.

  Sharp.

  Final.

  "Go to your room."

  My head snapped up.

  "What?"

  "You're grounded."

  The words hit like a punch.

  "That's not fair!"

  "Go to your room."

  His voice was even colder now.

  More controlled.

  But somehow even more threatening.

  I stared at him for a second.

  Then I threw my hands up.

  "Fine!"

  I turned and stormed up the stairs, each step shaking beneath my feet.

  My bedroom door slammed shut behind me.

  I paced back and forth across the room.

  Who do they think they are?

  I just saved the city.

  Saved them.

  Saved everyone.

  And this is what I get?

  Jordan's mad at me.

  Cameron's mad at me.

  Maya's mad at me.

  Now this?

  "This is bullshit," I muttered.

  "I don't deserve this."

  I dropped onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  But I couldn't stay still.

  My mind was spinning.

  Royal.

  Eclipse.

  Kai.

  The Dragon Society.

  Japan.

  The tournament.

  Everything felt like it was crashing down on top of me all at once.

  And now I was grounded.

  I couldn't train.

  I couldn't go out.

  I couldn't do anything.

  I took a deep breath.

  Tried to calm down.

  But it didn't work.

  The anger was still there.

  Burning hotter than ever.

  And the worst part was—

  I didn't even know why I was this angry.

  Everything just felt wrong.

  Unfair.

  Like my entire life had been flipped upside down and no one cared.

  "I never asked for any of this," I muttered.

  My hand slammed into the wall beside my bed.

  CRACK.

  I froze.

  Slowly…

  I looked at the wall.

  My fist had punched straight through it.

  A perfect circle was carved into the drywall, pieces of plaster crumbling onto the floor beneath it.

  "Oh shit," I whispered.

  Panic hit instantly.

  I scrambled around my room, looking for something—anything—to cover it.

  My eyes landed on a poster hanging above my desk.

  Perfect.

  I grabbed it, ripped some tape from the drawer, and hurriedly slapped it over the hole.

  The poster sagged slightly where the wall had caved in behind it.

  I stepped back.

  "…Good enough."

  Hopefully no one checks behind that.

  Otherwise I'm really grounded.

  I let out a long breath.

  Then finally dragged myself to the bathroom.

  The hot shower washed away the dust, the sweat, the blood.

  But it didn't wash away the stress.

  By the time I crawled into bed, my body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

  The house was quiet again.

  Like nothing had happened.

  Tomorrow I still had school.

  And after that…

  Japan.

  The Dragon Society.

  And whatever else was waiting for me.

  I closed my eyes.

  But something told me this was only the beginning