Call of the Pack

The night was heavy with mist, the moon hidden behind thick clouds. Deep within the dense Beacon Hills forest, Derek Hale prowled with heightened senses, always on alert. The peace he sought was fleeting, and he had learned that something new was coming—something he couldn't ignore.

It was her scent that reached him first—familiar, yet unknown. Not a member of his pack, but undeniably a werewolf. His curiosity piqued, Derek followed the scent trail, leading him deeper into the woods until he came across a figure crouched by the river's edge.

Her hair cascaded down her back like waves of midnight, her eyes glowing a sharp gold. She looked fierce and ready for a fight, but there was something vulnerable about her too.

"Who are you?" Derek asked, his voice low and commanding.

The woman stood slowly, her gaze locking onto his. "My name's Ember," she said, her voice steady but with a slight tremor that she tried to hide. "I didn't think anyone would find me here."

Derek tilted his head, studying her. She wasn't from around here, that much was clear. "You're a werewolf."

"So are you," Ember countered, her lips twitching into the ghost of a smile. "I've heard of you. Derek Hale, right? Alpha of the Hale pack?"

"Not an Alpha anymore," Derek replied, his expression darkening slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Why are you here? Beacon Hills isn't exactly welcoming to lone wolves."

Ember shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at the river before meeting his gaze again. "I didn't have anywhere else to go," she admitted quietly. "I was part of a pack up north, but things… fell apart. I thought maybe I could start over here. I don't want trouble. I just want a chance to be left in peace."

Derek felt a pang of empathy. He knew too well what it was like to lose a pack, to be left alone. Still, trust didn't come easily for him, especially with strangers. "You should have stayed away. This town has its own problems. If you stick around, you'll be dragged into them."

Ember's eyes flashed with determination. "I can handle myself."

Derek wasn't so sure. There was something about her—something hidden beneath the surface that made him hesitate. "If you're staying, you need to know the rules. I can't have another rogue werewolf stirring up trouble."

"I'm not a rogue," Ember snapped, but then caught herself. "I'm… I'm just trying to find a place where I can belong."

For a moment, silence hung between them, the distant sound of the river filling the space. Derek's instincts told him she wasn't a threat, not to him anyway. But that didn't mean she wasn't running from something dangerous.

"I'll give you a chance," Derek finally said, his voice softer than before. "But if anything goes wrong—if you put this town or my pack in danger—I won't hesitate to stop you."

Ember nodded. "I understand."

"Come with me," Derek said, turning on his heel and starting back toward the woods. "You can stay in the loft for now. I'll introduce you to the others."

Ember followed, a sense of relief washing over her. She hadn't expected Derek to be so… reasonable. But she also knew that her past wasn't something she could escape forever. As much as she wanted a new start, the shadows of her old pack still loomed over her.

Derek could feel the tension in her, the weight she carried on her shoulders. He knew that feeling all too well. But for now, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, even the strongest wolves needed a pack to survive.

And maybe, just maybe, this lost werewolf had found hers.

The loft was quiet when they arrived. Derek had kept it that way for the night, opting for solitude over the noise of a full pack. The space was expansive, industrial with a warmth that came from its high ceilings and open design. Ember stepped inside, her keen eyes scanning the surroundings, taking in every corner with a quiet alertness.

"You can stay here," Derek said, pointing to a small room off the main floor. "It's not much, but it's safe."

Ember nodded, grateful for the offer. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Derek didn't respond, just gave her a curt nod and moved toward the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the counter, watching her carefully. There was something about her that kept nagging at him—a feeling he couldn't shake. She wasn't just running; she was hiding something.

"You don't have to trust me," Ember said, sensing his scrutiny. "I know I haven't earned that yet."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "You're right. I don't trust you. But I don't think you're lying about wanting peace either. Just… be honest with me. What are you running from?"

Ember looked away, her hands twisting together. "It's not that simple," she whispered.

"Make it simple," Derek pressed.

She took a deep breath, the weight of her past heavy on her chest. "My pack… was destroyed. We were small, only five of us. We lived up north, close to the Canadian border. But we had something another pack wanted—an artifact, something old and powerful."

"What kind of artifact?" Derek's voice grew sharper. Beacon Hills had its own fair share of supernatural relics and items of power, and none of them had brought anything but trouble.

Ember hesitated, but she couldn't afford to lie. "A lunar stone. It's said to enhance the power of a werewolf's shift, make the transformation easier, even under a new moon."

Derek's brows furrowed. He had heard of such things, but they were rare—almost mythical. "Why didn't you destroy it?"

"We tried," she said bitterly. "But the magic tied to it was ancient. It wouldn't break, wouldn't burn. We tried to hide it, but… the Nightshade Pack found out."

The Nightshade Pack. Derek stiffened at the name. They were notorious in the werewolf world, a ruthless group that sought power above all else. He had never encountered them personally, but he knew their reputation. They left no survivors.

"They killed your pack for the stone," Derek said, piecing it together.

Ember nodded, her eyes darkening with the memory. "I barely escaped. I managed to take the stone and run. But they're hunting me. They won't stop until they get it, and if they find out I'm here…"

"They'll bring the fight to Beacon Hills," Derek finished grimly.

"I didn't want to put anyone in danger," Ember said quickly. "I thought I could stay under the radar, but if you want me to leave, I will. I can't let them hurt anyone else."

Derek considered her words carefully. He could sense the truth in them, but it didn't ease the tension coiling in his chest. Beacon Hills had seen enough war—enough blood. And yet, he couldn't just turn her away. If she left, the Nightshade Pack would find her eventually, and Derek couldn't allow a predator like that to roam unchecked.

"We fight for our own here," Derek said finally. "If they come for you, they come for all of us."

Ember blinked in surprise. "You're willing to take that risk?"

"I've taken bigger ones," Derek said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Besides, we have something they don't."

Ember tilted her head, intrigued. "And what's that?"

"A pack," Derek said simply. "Strength in numbers."

His words hung in the air, and for the first time since Ember had fled her old life, she felt a glimmer of hope. She wasn't alone anymore, and though she was wary of trusting anyone too quickly, something told her that Derek Hale was different. His loyalty ran deep, and if he said he would fight for her, she believed him.

Suddenly, the loft door slid open with a loud clang, and a familiar voice called out. "Derek, you here?"

It was Scott McCall, Beacon Hills' resident True Alpha, followed by Stiles Stilinski, his best friend, and Lydia Martin, the town's banshee. They all stopped short when they saw Ember standing near Derek.

"Oh," Scott said, glancing between them. "Did we interrupt something?"

"No," Derek replied, stepping forward. "This is Ember. She's going to be staying here for a while."

Scott's eyes softened with understanding. "New wolf?"

"Not exactly," Derek said. "She's in trouble. The Nightshade Pack."

Lydia's sharp intake of breath caught everyone's attention. "Nightshade? They're dangerous."

"That's putting it lightly," Ember muttered.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, looking between the group. "So, we're doing this? Taking on another homicidal pack of wolves?"

"We don't have a choice," Derek said firmly. "But we'll be ready. The Hale Pack is stronger than it's ever been, and we have Scott's pack on our side. We won't let them take this town or anyone in it."

Ember felt a warmth spread through her chest, a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in a long time. She wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't afraid of facing it.

With a determined look in her eyes, she nodded at Derek and the others. "Then let's fight."