Scott walked down the suffocating school hallway, his steps feeling as heavy as shackles.
Midway through the corridor, he spotted Stiles standing by his locker.
Scott’s heart stopped for a moment, and he tried to offer a conciliatory look, but Stiles met him with a cold, utterly emotionless stare—the look of a stranger to someone he had never known.
Then, he slammed his locker shut and walked away without uttering a single word.
Scott sighed in frustration and closed his own locker.
Just as he was about to leave, he bumped into a female figure leaning against it.
It was Lydia Martin, looking at him with her usual piercing gaze:
— “Why is your pathetic friend looking at you like that?”
Scott jumped in place, stepping back as he tried to regain his balance, and said in a panic:
— “Lydia! Don’t sneak up on me like that! And Stiles is not pathetic, okay? And how he looks at me… is none of your business.”
Lydia rolled her eyes with boredom and a fake yawn:
— “Are you speaking like that to the girl who you broke her boyfriend’s arm?”
Scott clenched his jaw so hard that the veins in his neck bulged, and said in a low voice:
— “It was an accident.”
Scott turned and left the hallway, heading toward an empty classroom, thinking Lydia would leave him alone, but she followed him with confident steps:
— “An accident? It didn’t look that way from my perspective, Scott.”
Scott stopped abruptly and turned to her with clear annoyance:
— “Look, Lydia, I am in no mood to deal with your nonsense, okay? I have enough problems of my own, so get out of my face!”
Lydia looked shocked for a moment, then anger flared across her face:
— “Why are you talking to me like that?”
Scott exhaled sharply:
— “Because you are incredibly annoying! And have you already forgotten what you did to Stiles last summer?!”
Lydia’s expression shifted from anger to complete confusion, and she furrowed her brows:
— “What did I do to Stiles? I didn’t even know Stiles existed until he gave ‘Vicki’ first aid two days ago! How could I do something to him that never happened?”
Scott laughed bitterly and incredulously:
— “You don’t remember… do you?”
Lydia: “Remember what?!”
Scott sighed in frustration, throwing his hand up as if surrendering:
— “You know what? If you don’t remember, that’s better… just leave me alone.”
At that moment, the annoying bell rang, and students flooded into the classroom like a rushing torrent.
Bonnie was watching the scene from afar; she raised an eyebrow and whispered to Caroline:
— “What is going on with Scott and Lydia? Since when do they talk to each other alone?”
Caroline smiled eagerly, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of gossip:
— “I don’t know! But I smell juicy drama… I’m going to keep an eye on them from now on.”
Bonnie rolled her eyes in despair:
— “Caroline, please! What could possibly happen between Scott McCall and Lydia Martin?”
Everyone took their seats.
Lydia sat in her place, her eyes fixed on Scott, who had started talking animatedly with Allison, who had just walked in.
Lydia was drowned in a strange bewilderment, while Caroline leaned toward Bonnie, saying:
— “I don’t know… but I swear this is the beginning of a dramatic story.”
Bonnie sighed in despair and opened her complex chemistry book with boredom:
— “I’m going to need a lot of coffee to get through this day.”
Mr. Harris stood in front of the blackboard, tapping it with his pen irritably as usual, his raspy voice filling the room while explaining the complexities of covalent bonds:
— “If you think chemistry is just equations on paper, you are mistaken. Reactions are the essence of organized chaos… much like your school lives, which completely lack order.”
He had barely finished his sentence when sudden screams erupted from the windows overlooking the courtyard.
In an instant, half the class sprang from their seats, crowding toward the glass.
— “Oh my god! Look over there!” a female student screamed, covering her mouth in terror.
Scott rushed over with them, his heart pounding wildly.
There was a man’s corpse covered in a white sheet stained with dried blood patches, laid out on a medical gurney that paramedics were pushing rapidly toward an ambulance.
The feet sticking out from under the sheet were completely still, sending a wave of terror through everyone’s hearts.
Scott spotted Stiles standing in the corner, staring at the corpse with an unreadable expression—a mixture of curiosity and fear.
Seizing the opportunity, Scott rushed toward him, whispering in a trembling tone:
— “Stiles… listen, look at me… I swear to you I didn’t do it… I wasn’t there, I’m innocent!”
Stiles’s face froze.
He didn’t even look at Scott; instead, he slowly turned toward his desk, pulled out his large headphones, and placed them over his ears, shutting out the outside world completely.
The look in his eyes carried a painful coldness, as if he were erasing Scott’s existence from his memory.
Scott stepped back in shock, his hand hanging in the air.
Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him, and a familiar voice whispered:
— “What’s wrong with your friend?”
Scott jumped in his place, stepping back while clutching his chest:
— “Stefan! What the hell, why is everyone sneaking up on me today?! Has this classroom become a vanishing and appearing spot?!”
Stefan ignored his complaining, keeping his eyes fixed on Stiles as he said calmly:
— “Is there a real problem between you two? Listen, Scott, Stiles isn’t just a friend; he’s one of your ‘anchors’. You need balance, and your relationship with him needs to be excellent and free of trouble so you don’t lose control.”
Scott exhaled sharply, his eyes flashing from the psychological pressure:
— “Stefan… I don’t understand a single word of what you’re saying about ‘anchors’ and all that. All I know is that my head is about to explode from all this nonsense! Please… just leave me alone for the rest of the day, I beg you.” New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
Scott rushed to his seat and collapsed into it, putting his head in his hands.
Meanwhile, at the adjacent desk, Bonnie was watching the scene and whispering to Caroline:
— “What’s up with Scott and Stefan? Since when are they friends? I’ve never seen them talk to each other before.”
Caroline shrugged excitedly, her eyes shining:
— “I don’t know… maybe since this morning? They talked privately in secret… it seems there is a mystery behind those looks.”
Bonnie asked with unstoppable curiosity:
— “What topic?”
Caroline replied: “Stefan claimed it was about schoolwork, but judging by Scott’s desperate look and expressions… I don’t think so at all.”
Caroline smiled slyly, looking at Bonnie:
— “Watch out, girl. Curiosity is the first step toward falling for a guy… Do I smell a crush on a new boy?”
Bonnie’s face flushed with embarrassment, and she recoiled:
— “Caroline Forbes! What are you talking about?! I’ve barely spoken to Scott in my life! Besides… he is, you know… kind of in a relationship with Allison.”
Caroline’s smile widened even more:
— “And from that tone of yours, I understand that if you were in her place… would you have gotten closer to him?”
Bonnie exhaled sharply in annoyance:
— “I am never having this conversation with you!”
At that moment, Harris slammed the ruler on the desk loudly:
— “Quiet! Everyone back to their seats now! The incident outside does not give you the right to turn my classroom into a flea market!”
Silence fell over the classroom, but Lydia, sitting in her chair and watching Scott, still felt lost.
She looked toward Scott, who began to lean toward Allison, whispering a few words to her.
Caroline noticed Lydia’s stares and said to Bonnie in a low voice:
— “I don’t know exactly what it is, but I swear this is the beginning of a dramatic story that will change everything in this school.”
Bonnie sighed in despair and opened her chemistry book, while the tension in the classroom continued to rise, and the secret Scott carried in his chest felt like it was suffocating him.
With the ringing of the final school bell, Scott felt none of the relief he had hoped for; instead, it felt as though the end bell was merely the starting whistle for a suicide mission.
He didn’t turn back for Allison when she tried to call his name, nor did he care about Stiles’s enigmatic looks from afar; his only concern was to get away from this place full of prying eyes.
Scott walked out of the school gates, where the setting sun cast its sad orange shadows over the streets of Beacon Hills.
He walked with fast, agitated steps until he left the bustle of the town behind and entered the quiet, eerie woods that led to the Hale house.
The house stood there, abandoned and bleak, the remnants of the fire that consumed it years ago still etched into its charred walls.
Scott stopped before the shattered wooden door, his breathing rapid and his werewolf senses working at maximum capacity.
He picked up the scent of burnt wood, the scent of moisture, and a strange scent… the scent of a powerful “wild animal,” a scent unlike that of humans.
He knocked lightly on the door, but it swung open on its own with a harsh creak.
Scott stepped inside; the room was plunged into near-total darkness, pierced only by pale beams of sunlight filtering through gaps in the ceiling.
— “Derek?” Scott called out in a trembling but determined voice this time.
There was no answer, but he felt a presence in the room.
There was a heaviness in the air, an electromagnetic energy that made the hairs on his body stand up.
Suddenly, he heard calm, measured footsteps right behind him.
— “I knew you would come, Scott McCall.”
Scott turned around quickly to find Derek Hale standing there, in the shadows.
His features were sharp as a sword, and his eyes held no trace of pity or welcome.
He wore a black leather jacket, his hands slipped coldly into his pockets.
Scott didn’t wait; he began to confess immediately, his voice wavering between hesitation and remorse:
— “Derek… I… I came to apologize.” Scott said, looking down at his feet.
“I know Stiles and I locked you up, I know we accused you of things you didn’t do… I’m sorry.”
Derek didn’t care about the apology, narrowing his eyes coldly: “An apology won’t change what happened, Scott. What really brought you here?”
Scott took a deep breath, the terror showing on his face once again: “There is a school bus in the parking lot… shredded like cloth, blood everywhere, and they found a man’s body with his ligaments torn apart… Derek, could it be me who did that? Last night, I had a nightmare… I saw myself tearing Allison apart in that bus. I woke up in an indescribable state of terror.”
Derek let out a heavy sigh, then slowly approached Scott: “Yes… it is very possible it was you. When you lose control, especially in the first days after the bite, a werewolf turns into a ruthless monster. What you are feeling is completely natural for a newly turned werewolf, but it is fatal to the humans around you.”
Scott pleaded desperately: “How do I remember? How do I know if I did it or not? Can you teach me how to control this monster? I don’t want to kill anyone!”
Derek paused for a moment, then said in a sharp tone: “I will teach you control, but lessons don’t come free. If you want to remember what happened, go to the scene of the incident, let your senses completely submerge you, blend with your surroundings… If you were there last night, you will retrieve the memories and see them materialize before your eyes.”
Scott thanked Derek eagerly, but stopped suddenly, hesitating to ask the most important question: “What… what is the price I will pay for these lessons?”
Derek smirked with a mysterious, chilling smile: “You will find out in due time… when it’s time to pay, you will realize.”
Scott wanted to end this ambiguity, so he blurted out his question: “Derek… are you… are you the ‘Alpha’?”
Derek’s face changed in an instant, and his anger erupted like a volcanic explosion: “Where did you hear that name?! Who told you?!”
Scott tensed and stepped back, but gathered his courage: “It doesn’t matter where I heard it! My question is simple: Are you the Alpha who bit me or not? If you are the one who turned me, aren’t you supposed to teach me and protect me? Isn’t that your duty without conditions or prices?”
Derek lost his temper completely; he lunged at Scott and pushed him with all his might, crashing him against the wall, shouting in his face: “How do you know that?! Who told you this secret?! Speak!”
Scott felt his body catch fire, and the monster inside him could no longer accept the humiliation.
In an involuntary motion, Scott pushed Derek back with all his supernatural strength.
Derek flew through the air for ten meters, smashing an old wooden table before slamming into the wall.
Derek rose with lightning speed, his claws extended and his fangs bared, but he froze when he saw that Scott had already vanished, shattering the window and running at superhuman speed into the woods, leaving a small sonic boom in the air.
Derek growled in anger and tried to pursue him, but a calm, cold voice from the dark corner stopped him:
— “Leave the boy alone, Derek. Chasing him now will bring you nothing but more trouble.”
Derek turned sharply to find Stefan Salvatore standing there, hands in his pockets, with a calm, unsettling smile on his face.
Standing his ground with icy calmness, he spoke in a quiet voice heavy with accusation:
— “Tell me, Derek… did you really kill your sister just to steal the ‘Alpha’ spark from her?”
Derek exploded into a wild roar, shouting with a voice that shook the foundation of the decaying house:
— “That is none of your business! Get out of here before I turn your bones into firewood for this place!”
But Stefan didn’t flinch; he took a step forward, his eyes gleaming with defiance:
— “You exhibit all the traits of a guilty man, Derek. You are isolated, introverted, a potential killer, quick-tempered, and dark… but you didn’t do it, did you? You didn’t kill your only remaining family as everyone thinks, did you?”
Derek couldn’t take any more provocation.
He roared with all his might and lunged at Stefan with extended claws, but Stefan was faster; he leapt with demonic agility into the air, landing on the second-floor balcony, then shouted from there:
— “I didn’t come to fight! I came looking for answers! Who is the Alpha that turned Scott? What does he want from him?!”
Derek stopped his attack, but his breath hitched sharply from his chest like a burning engine, and he yelled maniacally:
— “I don’t know! And I don’t care! All I care about is finding him, ripping his throat out, and taking back what he stole from me… my family’s legacy and power!”
Stefan looked down at him with narrowed eyes filled with anger and warning:
— “I know you, Derek. You plan to use Scott as bait to find him.”
Derek shot back sharply as he moved toward the stairs:
— “Scott is his Beta, he is the only thread I have! Stay out of this, Stefan, or I will rip your heart out of your chest! I showed you mercy last time, but do not expect it from me again!”
Furious, Stefan said in a stern voice:
— “I won’t let you exploit the boy, Derek! You don’t care about his life! If you use Scott to find and kill the Alpha, it’s highly likely the Alpha will view him as a traitor and kill him in the blink of an eye! I will never let that happen!”
Derek roared, and this time his eyes glowed a terrifying, piercing blue, and he shouted:
— “And what is it to you?! What drives you to care about this strange teenage boy?!”
Stefan answered with a sharp, indisputable tone:
— “I owe him! He is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met in my life, and I will never forget what he did for me! That is why I will have his back against the likes of you, Derek… remember that well!”
Before Derek could open his mouth to reply, Stefan moved with a blur of superhuman speed, vanishing like smoke from the middle of the room, leaving the house in the blink of an eye.
Derek stood alone in the darkness, anger radiating from his body like steam.
In an explosive burst of fury, he delivered a powerful punch to the room’s wall, shattering the concrete bricks and leaving a large hole, while his eyes continued to gleam dark blue, filled with a mixture of a thirst for vengeance and a doubt that had begun to creep into his heart.
The lights of Deaton’s animal clinic looked dim and desolate that night, while Scott’s mind was still reeling with images of the shredded bus, Derek’s harsh words, and Stefan’s cryptic warnings.
Scott entered the clinic with fast, unsteady steps, his chest heaving under the weight of anxiety.
— “Sorry… I am so sorry,” Scott said, panting, his hair messy across his forehead.
Deaton looked up from his paperwork with his usual calm demeanor and said in a reassuring tone:
— “Scott, you are only two minutes late. There’s no need for this panic.”
— “No… I just don’t want you to think I’m slacking off, or taking my job lightly,” Scott muttered, trying to justify his agitation.
Deaton smiled faintly and said:
— “Scott, I assure you that you are one of the least lazy students in this town. Relax.”
At that moment, Scott heard a familiar voice behind him.
He turned to see Sheriff Stilinski standing at the clinic entrance, his face looking exhausted and burdened with worry.
— “Hello, Scott,” the Sheriff said in a serious tone.
“Are you staying out of trouble these days?”
Scott swallowed hard and replied quickly:
— “Yes, of course, no trouble.”
The Sheriff ignored Scott’s brief answer and turned to Deaton:
— “Hey, listen… since I’m here, do you mind taking a look at those photos I was telling you about? The authorities in Sacramento are still unable to determine what kind of animal caused this slaughter.”
Deaton stepped closer and took the photos, while Scott stood in the back, trying to steady his heart, which had begun to race like crazy.
— “I’m not exactly an expert, but I’ll do my best,” Deaton said, inspecting the photos closely.
“Is this the man who was attacked on the bus?”
— “Yes, that’s him,” the Sheriff replied grimly, then added: “And we found something strange… wolf hair on Laura Hale’s body.”
Scott felt a cold chill run through his limbs, and he intervened, trying to sound casual:
— “A wolf? I mean… I think I read somewhere that wolves haven’t been in Haliver state for about 60 years, right?”
Deaton looked at him, as if reading between the lines of his question, and said calmly:
— “True, but wolves are highly migratory animals. They might wander from another state driven by an instinctive urge or a strong memory.”
Scott furrowed his brows, recalling Derek’s words about “memory”:
— “Do wolves have memories?”
— “Yes, long-term memories tied to a primal instinct.” Deaton replied, pointing his finger at one of the photos: “Do you see this here?”
— “Yes, I see it,” the Sheriff replied with interest.
Deaton continued his analysis, his voice growing sharper:
— “These are claw marks. A wolf would have targeted the throat or the spinal cord directly with its teeth.”
The Sheriff asked with desperate curiosity:
— “So what do you think? Is it a mountain lion?”
Deaton shook his head in disagreement, glanced at Scott, and then returned to the photos:
— “I don’t know… but a mountain lion doesn’t act like this. A wolf can stalk its prey, disabling it by tearing its ankles first, then going for the throat… It’s a calculated way of killing, one that doesn’t rely just on hunger, but on something deeper… something vengeful.”
Scott took a step back, the words striking his mind like whips.
“Tearing the ankles”… he remembered the nightmare, and he remembered the feeling of his claws sinking into Allison’s ankles.
He nearly collapsed, but he clenched his fist tightly, hiding the terror of the truth behind a mask of silence.