Chapter 17

As the match entered its dying minutes, Achilles received the ball at the halfway line. The score was deadlocked, tension crackling through the air. With a burst of speed, he began his charge towards the opposing goal.

Defenders rushed to intercept him, but Achilles moved like liquid lightning. He weaved between players, his footwork a blur of precision and power. One by one, the Arts team's defense crumbled before him.

The crowd held its collective breath as Achilles approached the penalty area. Time seemed to slow as he drew back his leg and unleashed a thunderous shot. The ball rocketed towards the goal, a streaking missile that left the goalkeeper frozen in place.

The net bulged as the ball slammed home. The stadium erupted in a deafening roar, Science supporters leaping to their feet in jubilation. At that exact moment, the referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the end of the match.

But even as his teammates rushed to mob him, Achilles remained rooted in place. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated with a sudden, overwhelming realization. Something was terribly wrong.

The cheers of victory faded to a dull buzz in his ears. Achilles' mind raced, his instincts screaming at him that a grave danger had just presented itself. He scanned the crowd frantically, searching for something only he seemed aware of.

The scent. Achilles had lost Shea's scent. He turned to look at the bench where Shea was supposed to be, but she wasn't there. Panic gripped his chest as he pushed past the mob of celebrating teammates, his supernatural speed carrying him to the sidelines in a blur.

His hoodie and pants lay crumpled on the bench, but Shea was nowhere to be found. Achilles' mind raced, his enhanced senses straining to pick up any trace of her. The cacophony of the crowd and the lingering smells of sweat and grass overwhelmed him, making it impossible to isolate her unique scent.

"Damn it," he growled, his eyes scanning the area frantically. How could he have let this happen? He'd told her to stay within his sight, to not wander off. But in the heat of the game, he'd lost track of her.

Achilles' fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. He knew the dangers that lurked in Lockewood, the very reasons he'd warned Shea to leave. And now, she'd vanished right under his nose.

He spun around, searching the faces in the crowd for any sign of her. His gaze locked onto Ryder, who stood at the edge of the field with a smug grin. Achilles' eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring in his gut. Had Ryder orchestrated this somehow?

Without a second thought, Achilles stalked towards his rival, determination etched into every line of his face. He'd find Shea, no matter what it took. And if Ryder had anything to do with her disappearance, he'd make him regret ever setting foot in Lockewood.

Achilles froze mid-stride, his head whipping around as Shea's scent suddenly flooded his senses. There she was, emerging from the women's washroom, her face a picture of innocence as she walked towards him.

Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of irritation. He'd been ready to tear the place apart, and she'd just been in the bathroom? Achilles clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his emotions as he sauntered towards her.

"Did we win?" Shea asked, her eyes bright with excitement, completely oblivious to the turmoil she'd caused.

Achilles stopped in front of her, his towering frame casting a shadow over her smaller form. "Where were you?" he demanded, his voice low and tight.

Shea blinked, taken aback by his intensity. "I... I just went to the bathroom. I thought I'd be quick, and you were so focused on the game..."

"I told you to stay within my sight," Achilles growled, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "Do you have any idea what could have happened?"

Shea's expression shifted from confusion to defiance. "I can take care of myself for five minutes in a bathroom, Achilles. I'm not a child."

"You don't understand the dangers here," he hissed, leaning in closer. "When I tell you to do something, it's for your own safety."

Shea crossed her arms, meeting his glare with one of her own. "And when exactly are you going to explain these dangers to me? Or am I supposed to just blindly follow your orders without question?"

Achilles opened his mouth to retort, but caught himself. He could feel the eyes of curious onlookers, drawn by their heated exchange. This wasn't the time or place for this conversation.

Achilles grabbed his hoodie and pants from the bench, his movements sharp with barely contained frustration. He jerked his head towards the parking lot.

"Follow me," he commanded, not bothering to look back as he strode away.

Shea hesitated for a moment, torn between her curiosity and the nagging voice of caution in her head. But the need for answers won out, and she hurried after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

As they walked, Shea tried to break the tense silence. "Look, I'm sorry if I worried you. I didn't think-"

"That's the problem," Achilles cut her off, his voice low. "You're not thinking. You have no idea what you're up against here."

They reached a sleek black sports car that stood out among the more modest vehicles in the lot. Achilles unlocked it with a beep and opened the passenger door.

"Get in," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Shea eyed the car warily. "Where are you taking me?"

Achilles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If you want answers, get in. Otherwise, go home and pack your bags. Leave Lockewood and never look back."

Shea's eyes narrowed. "Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," Achilles replied bluntly. "But right now, I'm your best shot at surviving long enough to get the answers you're looking for."

Shea hesitated, her hand on the car door. "And if I refuse?"

Achilles' expression darkened. "Then you're on your own. And trust me, you don't want that."

After a moment of internal debate, Shea slid into the passenger seat. Achilles closed the door behind her and walked around to the driver's side.

As he started the engine, Shea couldn't help but ask, "So, where are we going?"

Achilles pulled out of the parking lot, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Somewhere we can talk without prying eyes or ears. It's time you learned what you're really up against."