The next morning came slow and gray.
Jace woke up before his alarm, heart already pounding like he'd just sprinted a mile. He blinked at the ceiling, trying to shake off the memory of the dream — the same one he'd been having for days now.
Shadows. Whispers. And a hand reaching for him through the dark, claws scraping his skin, trying to pull him under.
He sat up, dragging a hand through his hair. Sweat clung to his forehead even though the room was freezing.
Downstairs, the old pipes groaned as his dad started the shower.
Jace pulled on a hoodie and jeans, avoiding the mirror as he passed it. He didn't want to see his own face right now.
Not after what he'd seen last night.
He shoved a notebook into his bag and headed down to the kitchen.
Cold cereal, stale bread — same choices as always.
He grabbed a piece of bread and chewed mechanically, eyes drifting to the half-open study door. His father's voice leaked through, low and tight. Probably another call with the precinct.
Jace didn't listen.
He didn't want to know what fresh nightmare they'd found.
When he finally stepped outside, the sky was a washed-out blue, the kind of morning that made everything feel flat. He slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking.
Halfway to school, he noticed it again.
The feeling.
The one that made the hair on his arms stand up.
He stopped under the flickering streetlight at 9th and Carson, pretending to retie his shoe. His eyes scanned the street — empty, except for the usual parked cars and a woman walking her dog three blocks down.
Still, he felt it.
A pressure, like eyes digging into his back.
He straightened slowly, resisting the urge to run.
"Paranoid," he muttered to himself.
But deep down, he knew better.
The school loomed ahead, ugly and cracked around the edges. A flock of students pushed through the front doors, laughing, shouting, shoving. Normal noise.
Normal life.
At least, for now.
Kimberly spotted him by the lockers. She jogged over, frowning.
"You look like hell," she said, handing him a coffee she'd clearly stolen from somewhere.
"Thanks. Just what I needed. Brutal honesty."
She smiled faintly but didn't let it drop. "Seriously. What's up with you? You're jumpy. More than usual."
Jace shrugged, sipping the coffee even though it was already cold. "Didn't sleep great."
"You never sleep great."
He stayed silent.
They headed to first period together, math with Mr. Dalton, who droned on about parabolas while Jace stared out the window, the words sliding right past him.
His neck itched.
The scar.
Without thinking, he touched it again.
A sharp pulse of heat snapped under his fingers, and he jerked his hand back.
What the hell?
Kimberly noticed and leaned in. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Jace forced a smile. "Yeah, just... headache."
She didn't look convinced, but she let it go.
All through class, he kept feeling it.
A low throb under his skin, almost like something was moving just beneath the surface.
By lunch, it had gotten worse.
He pushed his tray away, the sight of greasy pizza making his stomach churn.
Kimberly sat across from him, picking at her salad. She was saying something about a quiz in history class, but Jace wasn't listening.
He couldn't stop thinking about the scar.
About how it burned every time someone got too close.
About how it seemed to know something he didn't.
"Jace?"
He blinked. Kimberly was staring at him, concerned.
"You're scaring me, man."
He opened his mouth to brush it off — but before he could, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"Hey, freak."
Jace stiffened.
Brian Mercer.
One of those guys who peaked in middle school and somehow kept getting meaner.
Brian leaned down, sneering. "You gonna cry again today, Hale? Huh? Gonna run to your daddy?"
The cafeteria went quieter than it should have.
Jace felt the old anger stirring, the one he usually buried deep.
Not today.
The burning under his skin flared, sharp and wild.
Before he knew what he was doing, he stood up so fast his chair screeched backward.
The air around him shifted — no, thickened — like a heatwave rolling off asphalt.
Brian's smirk faltered.
He stepped back without even realizing it. His friends shuffled nervously behind him.
Everyone was watching now.
Waiting.
Jace clenched his fists, struggling to breathe.
He could feel something coiling inside him, clawing to get out.
Then —
A crack, soft but clear.
A hairline fracture spread across the overhead light directly above Jace, making it flicker wildly.
Brian swore under his breath and shoved past him. "Freak."
The tension snapped like a rubber band.
Voices picked back up, too loud, forced.
Kimberly grabbed Jace's arm, dragging him down the hall before a teacher could notice.
In the empty stairwell, she rounded on him.
"What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Jace said. His voice was hoarse. "I swear, Kim. I don't know."
She stared at him for a long second. Her hand tightened on his sleeve.
"You need to tell me if something's wrong. Like... really wrong."
Jace hesitated.
He thought about the scar.
The dreams.
The thing that moved under his skin.
He wanted to tell her.
God, he wanted to tell someone.
But the words jammed in his throat.
Instead, he just said, "I'll figure it out."
She didn't believe him.
But she let him go.
As Jace walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that something inside him had cracked open today —
And whatever it was, it wasn't going to stay hidden much longer.