The streets of Beacon Hills were quiet, the late hour wrapping the town in an eerie stillness. Kate Argent's car cruised down the empty road, her sharp green eyes scanning the surroundings with predatory focus. Her return to Beacon Hills was not just a visit—it was a hunt, and the thought brought a small, satisfied smile to her lips. She reached for her radio, her fingers brushing against the weapon holstered at her hip, the weight a reassuring presence.
As she neared a dimly lit intersection, a sudden, sharp thud jolted her car. The vehicle lurched violently to the right, the steering wheel fighting against her grip. Cursing under her breath, Kate slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching as the car skidded to a halt. She shoved the door open and stepped out, her movements deliberate and controlled despite the flicker of irritation crossing her face.
She crouched by the tire, inspecting it under the faint glow of the streetlamp. A jagged metal spike was embedded in the rubber, glinting faintly. Kate's expression darkened, her jaw tightening as she rose to her feet, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her fingers moved quickly, dialing a number she knew by heart.
"Chris," she said when the line connected, her voice low and sharp. "Someone's playing games. I'm in town, and I've been hit—tire's blown out. Looks deliberate. I need backup."
Her brother's calm, measured tone filtered through the phone, asking questions she didn't have the patience to answer. Kate's eyes darted to the shadows around her, her senses heightened as adrenaline began to course through her veins. "No, I don't know who," she snapped. "But I'm going to find out."
She ended the call without waiting for his response, slipping the phone back into her pocket and unholstering her weapon in one fluid motion. Her movements were smooth, practiced, and purposeful as she began to scan the area, her footsteps quiet but confident. The tension in her body was palpable, every muscle coiled like a spring as she moved deeper into the town, leaving her disabled car behind.
---
Meanwhile, Derek Hale was on the prowl, his sharp eyes scanning the rooftops and alleyways for any sign of the Alpha. His dark leather jacket clung to his form, and his movements were swift but cautious. Each step he took was deliberate, his boots barely making a sound against the pavement. His senses were heightened, the faint scent of something unfamiliar drifting on the wind.
As he turned a corner into a narrow alley, his instincts flared. He froze mid-step, his breath steady but shallow as he listened. There it was—a faint sound, almost imperceptible but unmistakable. The soft scuff of boots against concrete. Someone was nearby.
Before Derek could move, a sharp crack pierced the air—a gunshot, fast and precise. His reflexes kicked in, his body twisting to the side, but it wasn't fast enough. The bullet streaked toward him, cutting through the night like a deadly whisper.
And then, as if from nowhere, a figure appeared in front of him. Orion.
---
Orion moved like a shadow given form, his presence sudden and commanding. His coat billowed slightly with the force of his arrival, and in one impossibly quick motion, his hand shot out. The bullet struck his palm with a faint metallic ping, the force barely causing him to flinch. He stared at the small, flattened piece of metal in his hand, a flicker of amusement crossing his sharp features.
Kate, still hidden in the shadows, lowered her gun slightly, her emerald eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. Her breath hitched, and she took a cautious step back, her mind racing. Who the hell is that? she thought, her grip on the weapon tightening.
Derek's eyes widened, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to reconcile what he'd just seen. "Orion?" he said, his voice low and uncertain.
Orion turned his head slightly, a faint smirk playing at his lips. "You're welcome," he said smoothly, flicking the flattened bullet to the ground with a casual air. His tone carried no urgency, as if catching bullets was a trivial matter.
Kate stepped out of the shadows then, her weapon raised again but her stance cautious. Her green eyes burned with curiosity and suspicion as they locked onto Orion. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp and commanding. "And why are you protecting a werewolf?"
Orion turned fully to face her, his movements unhurried and deliberate. His dark eyes seemed to glimmer in the dim light, and his expression was unreadable, though there was a faint trace of amusement lingering there. "You're asking the wrong questions," he said, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of power. "The better question is: why would I let you pull that trigger again?"
Kate's grip on her gun faltered for the briefest of moments, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. She masked it quickly, her lips curling into a sly, dangerous smile. "I don't scare that easily," she said, though her voice lacked its usual confidence.
Orion tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "Oh, I know," he said, his tone almost patronizing. "That's what makes this so much fun."
Derek's gaze flickered between them, his body tense and ready to spring into action. But something in Orion's demeanor kept him rooted in place—a sense that the older man had everything under control.
Kate took another step forward, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know who you are," she said, her voice low and dangerous, "but you've made a big mistake getting in my way."
Orion chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, sending a chill down Derek's spine. "That's where you're wrong," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "The mistake was yours, Kate. You just don't realize it yet."
A/N
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