Support me and Join Patreón to read chapters ahead.
Patreón: patreon.com/Darkwolfest
Join my Discord to see the character images.
Discord invite:
https://discord.com/invite/WpaszattdH
Enjoy.
-------
[Scott's POV]
"So, let me get this straight." I said, still trying to wrap my head around what they were telling me. "The Alpha, who's a werewolf, was chased off by three giant wolves, and those wolves were actually shapeshifters?"
"Yes." Stiles nodded, clearly exasperated, like this should be the easiest thing in the world to grasp.
"What's so hard to understand?" Tara chimed in, looking at me as if I was the one making things difficult.
I stared at them, blinking in disbelief. Were they serious right now?
I mean, it was already hard enough coming to terms with the fact that werewolves were real, but now they wanted me to add shapeshifters to the mix?
Before I could even process that thought fully, Stiles casually threw another bombshell into the conversation. "Oh, and vampires are real too, by the way."
My eyes widened as I whipped my head around to look at Tara, hoping—praying—that she would show at least a little bit of shock at what Stiles had just said. But, no. Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face.
They're being serious. They have to be.
I just stared at both of them for a long moment, completely at a loss for words. Then, I sighed in defeat and slumped against the table.
"Fine." I said, exhaling all the disbelief out of my system. "I give up."
Might as well accept it—werewolves, shapeshifters, vampires. It's all real. My life was a supernatural trainwreck at this point anyway, so why not?
"Any idea why the Alpha came after you?" I asked Stiles, trying to focus on the immediate problem rather than the absurdities piling up in my head.
I mean, the Alpha targeting Stiles seemed odd.
Not that I was complaining—I was perfectly fine with the Alpha staying far away from me—but it was strange that it had singled out Stiles, especially since he hadn't been identified as to what he even is.
"Nope." Stiles said, shaking his head, looking just as confused as I felt. "Derek thinks the Alpha might've sensed something in me, but we still don't know for sure. It's impossible to figure out what's going on in that thing's head without understanding the pattern behind the murders."
"I did." Tara suddenly spoke up, making both of us blink and turn towards her.
"What? You've found a pattern?" Stiles asked, his curiosity piqued.
Tara gave a nod, her expression serious. "The first victim, Laura Hale, is at the core of all of this. So, I started looking into how the other victims might be connected to her."
I furrowed my brow, intrigued. "And?"
"The bus driver? He was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire. Laura had him terminated under suspicion of fraud." She explained, pausing to let that information sink in.
"And the video store clerk?" Stiles asked, recalling the second victim.
Tara's eyes darkened slightly. "He was a convicted felon with a history of arson. The Alpha's been targeting people connected to the fire that killed Laura's family."
I leaned back on the chair, nodding to myself as it felt like all starting to make sense. "So, the Alpha's are not just killing random people. He's hunting down anyone who is responsible for the fire."
"Or whoever he thinks is responsible." Stiles added, his voice dropping as his eyes instinctively drifted across the room toward Allison, who was chatting animatedly with Lydia at another table, seemingly unaware of the weighty conversation happening on our end.
Just then, Amber suddenly bounced over to our table, breaking the tension as she leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Stiles' cheek.
His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and I swear I saw Tara shoot her a sharp glare—though it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
"So." Amber began, sliding into the seat next to Stiles, oblivious to the serious conversation she'd just interrupted. "What are you guys planning for the party?"
"Party?" I repeated, blinking in confusion. What party?
"Oh, you guys don't know?" Amber arched her eyebrows, looking around at us as though we were the ones out of the loop. "We're throwing a party at the school stadium to cheer everyone up after the death of the 'culprit' behind the attacks."
"Cheer them up with a party?" I asked, still trying to grasp the logic, but Amber was already on to her next point.
"It's going to be animal-themed." She continued, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "I'm thinking black cat ears and a tail for you, Tara. What do you think?"
Tara's expression was deadpan as she replied without missing a beat, "I'd rather hang myself than wear cat ears and fake paws."
I snorted, stifling a laugh, but Stiles chimed in, "I think it'd look cute on you."
Clasping her hands together dramatically, she turned her full attention back to Stiles, pulling his face closer to hers.
"And as for me, Stiley, I'm thinking… maybe a Doberman-style collar and shorts?" She teased, giving him a flirtatious wink.
Stiles blinked, clearly trying to process the mental image. "Uh... y-yeah. You'd look absolutely hot."
Amber squealed in delight and, with another quick kiss on his cheek, whispered in his ear, "Make sure you come to the party. I've got a little surprise for you."
She pulled away, flashing him another seductive grin before sauntering off.
As soon as she was gone, we all sat there in awkward silence. Thankfully, the school bell rang, saving us all from further awkwardness.
—----
[Derek's Pov]
Things were quickly taking a bitter turn.
The Quileutes had started making moves against the Alpha. Derek had anticipated they wouldn't sit idly by, but it wasn't time yet.
The Equinox was still a little more than a week away, which gave him ten days—ten days to figure everything out before things spiraled completely out of control.
His time was running short, and his options were thinning by the hour.
The Alpha had made its presence and intentions known, but it's true plan remained shrouded in darkness, putting everyone involved in imminent danger.
He couldn't allow the others to get caught in the crossfire, but keeping them safe when he himself had no idea what was going on was proving to be a challenge.
Scott—his newly bitten beta—was still struggling. After two months, he hadn't yet learned to control his urges. Derek couldn't help but feel that Scott's lack of control made him a ticking time bomb, especially with the next full moon just around the corner.
Worse, the Alpha still had a strong influence over him. In his current state, Scott was a dangerous wildcard—he could easily be drawn to the Alpha's side during the next lunar cycle, whether he wanted to be or not.
Then, there was Stiles. He was a wildcard of his own, and while Stiles was unpredictable and prone to recklessness, Derek trusted him to help pick up the pieces if Scott inevitably lost control.
For better or worse, Stiles would be there, like he always was, ready to deal with the fallout.
The Argents, though… Derek didn't even want to think about the Argents. Their presence always complicated things tenfold.
With everything hanging by a thread, it had all led him to this moment—kneeling on the cold, sterile floor of the hospital room.
He gazed at Peter, whose once ferocious face was now marred and lifeless, half-burnt beyond recognition. Derek's heart clenched as he stared at the motionless body.
Pity. Sorrow. Hope.
Maybe, just maybe, he could get something out of this. He had to.
"I need your help." Derek whispered, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes. His chest tightened painfully, his heart aching. "You're all I've got now."
He swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but a single one slipped down his cheek. Wiping it away, he pulled himself together, hoping against hope that his words would somehow reach the man lying before him.
"If you can hear me, just… give me a sign." His voice trembled, desperation creeping in. "Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just… point me in the right direction."
Silence. Peter remained as still as ever. His eyes, blank and unresponsive, gave no indication that he heard a word Derek said. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of the machines keeping him alive, but there was no spark of recognition.
Derek pressed on, his voice barely a whisper. "Someone killed Laura." His heart squeezed as he spoke the words, pain and anger mingling in his chest. "My sister. Your niece."
He paused, trying to steady himself.
"Whoever did it is an Alpha now." His voice hardened, growing resolute. "But he's alone. He doesn't have a pack, which means he's not as strong as he could be. I can take him. I know I can."
Derek's eyes searched Peter's face for any flicker of life, any hint that his uncle understood what he was saying, but there was nothing. Just the same hollow, lifeless stare. But Derek couldn't stop. He couldn't give up.
"The Quileutes are after him too." Derek continued, his voice filled with urgency. "But I have to find him first. This is our family's legacy. My mother—your sister—died for this. It belongs to us."
He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. He needed Peter to say something, anything that could help him make sense of this chaos.
"Do you know something? Is it one of us? Did anyone else make it out of the fire?" His voice was a plea, raw and desperate.
He waited, holding his breath, but Peter remained motionless.
Derek's patience snapped.
"Blink! Do something!" He yelled, his voice echoing off the sterile walls.
Still nothing.
"Say something!" He roared, slamming his fist into the floor.
A voice suddenly cut through the silence, sharp and firm. "Let him go."
Derek's head snapped toward the door, where a nurse stood, her arms crossed as she watched him with a mixture of pity and exasperation.
"You really think, after six years of this, yelling is going to get a response?" She asked, her tone biting as she raised an eyebrow.
Derek growled, his frustration palpable. "You got a better method?"
"Patience." She replied simply. "If he's going to respond, you need to give him time."
Time. The one thing Derek didn't have. He clenched his jaw, biting back the retort that burned on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he stormed out of the room, muttering under his breath, "I don't have any more time."
As the nurse shook her head, turning to tend to Peter, she missed the subtle movement of his fingers.
They twitched—just for a second—but enough to mean something.
Meanwhile, outside the hospital, Derek's tension only grew. As he approached his car, his eyes narrowed at the sight of something fluttering under the windshield wiper.
He snatched it up, scanning the parking lot for whoever left it, but there was no one in sight.
He unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the words quickly. It was a report about a dead deer found in the woods, with a spiral carved into its body—a spiral, just like the one Stiles had mentioned.
The report was signed by Alan Deaton, Scott's boss at the veterinary clinic.
His grip tightened on the paper, his mind racing.
This was it. A clue. A lead.
Whoever had done this had left him exactly what he was looking for.
His eyes steeled with determination as he slid into the driver's seat of his car.
Time was running out, but now, at least, he had something to go on.
..