Hello FanFiction and welcome to the beginning of the third installation to my Teen Wolf "Moon Series"! Many of you have followed this story since the beginning, others have been playing catch-up. To those of you who are new to this story, and my OC, Charlie Hale, I hope you grow to care for her as I do as a character!

I wanted to thank a few people for their continued support of this series. My loyal reviewers and PM-ers:

I Am The Eleventh, Sonny13, Isabelle Sangster, M, Mia, Cally, klandgraf2007, cococrazy4109, and "Guest"

Okay, so without further ado, here it is! My third story, "Blood Moon", which encompasses the amazing 3A season! I own nothing, but my OC, her back-story, and of course, some Delta lore :)

Read away my darlings! It's good to back!

BLOOD MOON

CHAPTER ONE: UNTIL WE GO DOWN

Under the cover of darkness, I drove, the California sky much more lackluster than I remembered.

I suppose I had grown used to the view from my mountain retreat, with millions of stars sprinkled across a black expanse so clear that one could see the whole cosmos laid out before her.

The rolling hills and deep valleys, which overlooked the sleepy country, seemed to have shrunk during my absence.

Even the air, once crisp to my smog-filled city lungs, was no longer fresh, but rather left a stale taste in my mouth. It was stagnant here, like a faded picture that couldn't do the vibrant memory justice.

Speeding down those familiar, desolate roads, it somehow felt so new, so foreign; however, I knew it wasn't the scenery that had changed.

It was me.

Ava once told me that I could go back to Beacon Hills, but never truly return home, and now I understood what she had meant.

I wasn't the same girl that had come to exact revenge upon those that had murdered her family, nor was I the woman that had left to save her humanity.

I was a different person.

Fate had taken me down a long, dark path, testing and forcing me to grow. Fully evolved, I was now aware of who I truly was, and that self-acceptance gave me the control I needed to maintain the delicate balance of my dual nature and face my destiny head on.

So yes, Beacon Hills' Delta was back, but for reasons entirely her own.

By the time I reached Beacon County's industrial district, the moon had bowed out, making room for the dawn. Radiant blends of rose and gold streaking over the ever-brightening sky, I exited Derek's Camaro, too preoccupied to enjoy the sunrise.

I frowned.

It had rained last night and I wondered how much of the trail had been washed away as I looked from my phone back to the faded address painted on the side of the building.

Well, this was definitely the place.

"1737 Edison Blvd.," I recalled the police scanner's transmission.

With a sigh, I looked around, sharp eyes scouring every inch of the property's exterior.

There were no signs of vandalism or trespassing. No evidence of the assault and battery that was claimed to have also occurred here. The only thing that remained from the investigation were a few strips of yellow caution tape.

Great. A storm passes through, and now cops tampered with my crime scene…

Spending any more time or energy out here would simply be a waste, so I decided to check out the abandoned warehouse.

Moldy walls undoubtedly caked with asbestos, I crinkled my nose, trying to block out the overwhelmingly pungent scent.

I gagged, my tearing eyes slowly adjusting to the pitch black.

Dozens of rusted machines were scattered about, their utility reduced to collecting dust and housing cobwebs. All of the windows were boarded up, save for one, whose shattered remains decorated the far corner.

Gaze dancing over each shard of glass, I then spotted what looked like skid marks.

Head cocked to the side, I walked closer, that rancid stench growing stronger with every step I took.

Now here was something.

I squatted, hand barely tracing the singular set of tire tracks when a sharp shock ran from my fingertips up my arm.

Pain.

Fear.

Panic.

Aggression.

All of these emotions swept over me with an immense amount of force, making it rather hard to concentrate.

Forced to close my eyes, I tried to focus on allowing my instincts to take over; and soon, everything fell into place.

Like a movie playing before my very eyes, I saw it all: a bike crashing through the window, an injured duo falling, two shadowy figures merging into one, and a gun going off, followed by an electrical pulse.

Even the scents became less muddled, the musty air fading away as the smell of burning rubber, blood, sweat, and charred flesh came through; but what really caught my attention was the faintest trace of cinnamon chewing gum.

Isaac Lahey had been here.

Opening my eyes, I blinked away the black and white vision of my wolf form, absolutely certain of what my next move was.

Beacon Memorial was as packed as ever.

The hustle and bustle in the parking lot was deafening, and although morning had fully arrived, the flashes of red and blue from speeding ambulances were more blinding than the sun.

I squinted as I crossed the lot, witnessing nearly three fender-benders during the two-second journey from my car to the lobby.

Highly amused, I chuckled to myself; however this was short lived, for the instant I stepped through the front door, I was practically run over when a handful of frantic EMTs wheeled some poor bastard in on a stretcher.

Jumping backwards, I then took everything in as a small, nostalgic smirk spread across my face.

I watched the mayhem unfold, with doctors making their rounds, noses buried in case files, while nurses impatiently barked orders at their respective, doe-eyed interns. Disorientated visitors desperately tried to maneuver their way through the confusion, as various elderly patients sat by, as always, complaining about either the food, the staff, or the fact that they weren't dead yet.

It was a much-welcomed mess, for no one at the reception desk took any notice of an unidentified teenager with loosely cured raven hair casually strolling through the chaos.

I had picked up on Isaac's scent in the lobby, yet with so many people milling about, there was no way of knowing which direction he had gone; so, hands shoved in my pockets, I aimlessly wandered around the labyrinth-like corridors, waiting to catch a whiff of anything besides chemicals, bleach, and fecal matter.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I froze, the echoes of my past nightmares rising the surface.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

There was no denying it.

That pronounced, rhythmic beat and its hollow echoes had been seared into my memory after the countless evenings I awoke from my night terrors.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Tentatively looking over my shoulder, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, and yet, a cold sweat formed on my brow as goose bumps spread across my skin.

Images of a cane-wielding night stalker with glowing red eyes flashed across my mind as I reminded myself that these auditory hallucinations were normal, and simply a result of my amplified abilities.

"Chill out, Charlie," I murmured under my breath, shaking off my nerves and pressing onward.

"You're a creature of both worlds now. Like night and day, there will be no separating the light from the darkness within you. You must find the balance, or risk losing yourself forever," Ava's mind-numbingly cryptic words bounced around my brain as I walked.

"You mean lose my humanity," I scoffed, staring directly into her ghostly gray eyes. "Too late for that."

Calm demeanor drastically shifting, the weathered woman with long, silver hair snarled: "Stupid girl. Are you still so naïve as to think that you were ever truly human?" Wrinkled lips curling into a bitter smile, she then leaned back and took a puff from her wooden pipe: "You're a Lorcan and a Hale. Fate was never going to be so kind to you."

Eyes narrowed, I glared at the old crone as I hissed through clenched teeth: "So what do you suggest, huh?"

"Stop being a child and face your demon," her words were filled with just as much venom as my own. "Look her in the eye, give her a name, embrace her. She is as much a part of you, as you are of her. You must accept this, accept the wolf, and relinquish the illusion that you ever had control."

"So that's it then? Just let it win?"

"Do you think this is a game?" her steely eyes flashed dangerously from behind the thin veil of smoke swirling about her harsh face. "There is no winner or loser. There is only trust. You must trust in her and she must trust in you."

"Trust," I repeated to myself firmly.

The dins of the hospital seemed to have died down completely, with only the sounds of my heels on tile as I rounded the corner.

The hallway was far less packed, with only a couple of nurses quietly gabbing as they turned over a nearby room, and a blind man looking at the hospital directory.

No one seemed to pay me much mind as I followed that hint of cinnamon; yet, I still felt the nagging sensation that I was being watched, but before I could steal a look or notice that the directory did not have brail on it, the sound of a nearby commotion grabbed my attention.

My pace quickened as I pursued those sounds of masculine grunts, groans, and heavy breathing; and yet, when I turned down the next corridor, I found it completely empty.

Brows furrowed, I found myself a bit stumped.

The racket had definitely grown louder, so I knew I was headed in the right direction, but where was the brawl?

The slamming of fist against face was so close that I could practically feel the blows, and yet no one seemed to be rushing over to investigate.

But just as my puzzled gaze landed on the glowing down arrow of a singular elevator, which sat at the far end of the hallway, I knew why I was the only one able to hear this.

I moved closer, the scent of cinnamon also growing stronger.

Glass shattered somewhere within the shaft, and a younger male's cries of pain were soon replaced with choking sounds. Something rolled across the floor, followed by another ears-splitting crash of body slamming into metal.

The elevator dinged as it reached my floor, dented doors malfunctioning as they struggled to open.

"Don't you realize what you're dealing with?" a deep, animalistic voice snarled. "I'm an Alpha."

And then, a muscular man with jet black hair came seemingly out of nowhere, his beefy arms prying the doors open, only to stab the unknown werewolf in the back with his own set of claws.

"So am I," my older cousin growled into the beast's ear, tossing him aside without a second glance as he addressed the teen: "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Body sliding across the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind it, the injured Alpha landed a meter or so from where I stood, my silently watching presence overlooked by all involved.

My view of an unconscious Isaac Lahey slumped over in a wheelchair and Derek helping Scott McCall to his feet was quickly impeded as the enraged Alpha got back up.

The gaping hole in his broad shoulders barely slowed the brute down, and as he cracked his neck and began to advance upon the unsuspecting group, which still occupied the utterly destroyed elevator, I couldn't help but shake my head.

Arrogant as ever, Derek never did grasp the concept of 'the double-tap'; so with a roll of the eye, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find as the olive-skinned werewolf barked: "You really think you have a chance against me?"

Derek turned to face his slowly approaching adversary, his emerald eyes glowing red as his fangs descended.

"A packless Alpha and Beta?" his predatory voice quaked precariously. "I've killed more people than I can count. Faced off against whole packs, alone, and torn each and every single one of them apart with my bare…"

WHACK!

Words cut off, the towering beast swayed from where he stood, and I could only imagine what his expression must have looked like after being rammed across the skull with a fire extinguisher.

Tossing the dented cylinder aside, I merrily watched him fall forward and land with a splat, finally coming face-to-face with two very surprised werewolves.

"Hiya, boys. Missed me?"

The house was barely visible as I followed Derek's new FJ Cruiser up the overgrown driveway.

It's bare, blackened skeleton was now engulfed in thick vines and moss, an evergreen sapling had taken residence in the crumbling chimney, and the splintered porch had more ferns growing from it than the patchy lawn.

I blinked, unable to conceal my surprise over just how much these past four months had aged the remains of my childhood home.

The surrounding forest no longer encroached upon the property, which once gave it that haunted and spooky feel I had grown rather fond of. Instead, the woods had completely taken over, the scene now serving as yet another reminder that I wasn't actually returning home.

The place was too forlorn, like the ancient ruins of a people long forgotten, a heritage left to rot in the past. The once proud history of the Hale family, my history, had been reduced to nothing but ash and rubble.

I sighed.

Seemed fitting enough…

The sight must have also been quite a shock for McCall, for the Beta merely stood frozen outside the passenger-side door, his expression thoroughly dumbfounded.

But my cousin's muffled grunt soon distracted the tan teen, forcing his gaze to the comical spectacle of Derek jostling Isaac's unconscious form from the back of the black Toyota, his limp limbs flopping every-which-way.

I sniggered to myself as Scott hurried to the Alpha's aid, and once both boys had a firm grip on the deadweight kid, I exited the Camaro.

"You don't still live here, do you?" Scott groaned as they shuffled towards the dilapidated building.

"No," Derek nearly tripped over the broken first step, explaining. "The county took it over."

"Oh, thank God," I spoke for the first time since I surprised both wolves at the hospital, mischievous smirk still tugging on my lips at the memory of their slack-jawed faces. "Cause I'm pretty sure there's a tree growing right through my bedroom."

Still speechless, both Scott and Derek simply stared after me as I jovially sauntered past them and into the dark house.

"So what are we doing here?" McCall inquired slowly, while they shuffled after me, their intent gazes continuing to bore holes into the back of my head.

"There's something I need from here. Something that'll help heal a wound from an Alpha," my cousin responded with the usual amount of detail.

"Yeah, but it did heal," Scott's confusion was apparent as he glanced down at Lahey's seemingly perfect side.

Laying his body of the chipped table, Derek shook his head gravely: "Not on the inside."

At this point, I was wandering around what used to be our living room, running my fingers along the rough, charred walls.

The scent of burned and rotten lumber had been replaced by the rich, musty dampness of the forest that had sprouted up within these four walls, and as my gaze floated from the thin streams of sunlight seeping in through the boarded up windows to the rickety staircase, Scott finally addressed the elephant in the room.

"Are either of you gonna tell me who that was back there? That Alpha?"

How predictable… Derek keeping secrets…

"A rival pack," I nonchalantly shared, small smile creeping across my face as I blew my older cousin's cover.

Green eyes narrowing, Derek glared at my smug form and hissed through clenched teeth: "Charlie…"

"Relax, cousin. Not trying to steal your thunder," I started up the stairs, voice as innocent as ever. "You can tell Scott the whole story while I get what we need."

I could hear Derek's heart beating furiously within his chest as his harsh emerald eyes watched me disappear upstairs, and I couldn't help but grin, for I knew he was about to get an ear-full from McCall.

But, I mean, how long did he really think he could keep this whole 'deranged, murderous Alpha pack' situation under wraps?

He had had zero luck in tracking down Erica and Boyd, Isaac was just attacked and almost killed, and there were still no real leads.

It just wasn't practical to keep the Beta in the dark anymore.

He needed to know. And sure, perhaps I could've been a tad more tactful in how I shared the news, but where was the fun in that?

"Scott, this is my problem," Derek confessed honestly, voice a bit muffled as they moved about. "I know you want to help, and you did. I owe you one."

Technically, they both owed me for saving their asses, I thought to myself, strolling through the corridor and ducking underneath spider webs as I went.

That Alpha would've certainly gotten one, or the both of them, admitted to Beacon Memorial had I not showed up when I did.

As if reading my mind, the tan teen quietly asked: "Why didn't you say she was back in town?"

"You saw my face," Derek gruffly responded. "Did it look like I was expecting her?"

I snorted as heavy silence befell the floor below me.

He sure didn't!

But my laughter instantly died down when I entered my old room.

The ceiling had collapsed from the large oak that had fallen in through the exterior wall, splitting both my bed and dresser clean in half and blocking the closet completely.

Venturing further inside, I stepped over the thick branches as I walked into the bathroom, my heeled booties crunching on more than the fallen leaves that carpeted the hardwood floor.

My brows came together as I scowled, brushing away the dead foliage until I uncovered a mound of shattered glass.

My gaze quickly shot from the pile of broken alcohol bottles to the shattered mirror, only to land on a cracked and rusted syringe lying in the dingy sink.

Evidence of my last grief-induced bender staring me right in the face, my thoughts traveled back to the night we all thought Peter had killed my cousin at the school.

A massive black claw jutting from Derek's hemorrhaging chest, his motionless body tossed to the side, being hunted in the school, almost being forced to shift and kill my friends.

All of the memories from that night came flooding back, as well as my subsequent breakdown, which inevitably led to my taking of another human life and furthering my downward spiral.

My stomach lurched as I became utterly disgusted with myself.

I was so weak back then, so pathetic.

It was sickening.

I continued to cringe at the very thought as I stepped over the embarrassing mess left by the old Charlie, only to rummage around the medicine cabinet whilst the two wolves continued their chat.

"You can go home now, Scott. Go back to being a teenager," Derek dismissed the undoubtedly concerned boy, hoping to avoid the inevitable conversation about what was truly going on in Beacon Hills.

I shook my head at the bull-headed Alpha, only to find the small vile that I had been searching for and pull it out.

An Aunt Talia "original" recipe: crushed comfrey, yarrow, and jewelweed. Looked gross, smelt even more repulsive, but it was one Hell of a restorative.

Any time Derek would get hurt after stupidly taking on a rival pack alone or running his mouth at some random Alpha, Laura would use this herbal remedy to speed up the healing process, whilst simultaneously yelling at him for being such an idiot.

A small, warm grin quirked my lips as I turned on the faucet and waited for the copper colored water to run clear.

"Um, actually Derek, if you wanna repay that favor right now, there's something you can do for me," Scott's tone was eager as I added some of the now clean liquid to the pasty concoction.

Interest somewhat peaked, I corked the beaker and shook it as I headed off to rejoin the group, but before Derek could ask what McCall was talking about, I heard the front door burst open.

"We had a serious problem in Miss Blake's class…"

My journey down the hallway came to a halt the second those rushed and breathy words reached my intently listening ears.

"Hey, can you tell me about it later?" Scott distractedly ended the classic, hyperactive rant Stiles Stilinski was about to go off on.

"Well no, pretty sure this qualifies for immediate discussion," I noted that the dork's voice sounded deeper now, and as I made my way back down the steps, I caught a glimpse of the human rushing into the living room, having most likely spotted Isaac.

"So I guess you guys found him, then," he stated the obvious as I quietly leaned against the doorway, eyeing the three of them as they looked down at the injured Beta.

"Yeah, but Isaac's not the only one we found," Scott's words were weighty as he gave Derek a look.

"Actually, I think it was me that found you, but that's just semantics," I announced myself with a characteristically coy smirk, making the puzzled boy's question get caught in his throat as he spun around, his jaw unhinging the moment his wide, caramel eyes met my own.

Casually strolling past him, I tossed the vile to Derek, only to feign a look of deep thought: "Unless you meant the mysterious new Alpha in town, or his furry friends."

That statement earned me yet another pointed look from Derek, but I was far too entertained by Stiles' reaction to pay any mind.

Unintelligible syllables barely escaped his gaping mouth, his eyes were nearly bulging out of his skull, and his heart was racing so erratically, part of me wondered if it was going to burst from his chest.

"Y-y-you… y-you're… s-she's… she's back?" he turned around wildly and gaped at both wolves, his eyebrows disappearing underneath his noticeably longer dark brown hair.

"We were just as surprised as you are," Derek grumbled, not even bothering to look up as he poured the herbal mixture onto Isaac's faintly bruised ribs, clearly still peeved at me.

Stiles looked as if he had just gotten punched in the face, his helpless expression dazed and lanky body swaying from where he stood.

Honestly, it was sort of adorable.

"Pleasantly surprised," I corrected haughtily, plopping down onto the moth-eaten couch and sending a dense cloud of dust directly into Stiles' still baffled face.

His loud hacks and sputters echoed about the room, masking my amused giggles whilst an equally unconcerned Derek finished working on Isaac and addressed McCall.

"Okay, Scott," he sighed. "What do you want?"

"Oh, not this again," a purple-faced Stilinski coughed as his best friend dopily grinned.

"What?" Derek seemed almost nervous, yet once the Beta stepped forward and took off his charcoal hoodie, my cousin's trepidation became perplexed.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what the Alpha was missing, but then a knowing grin curled my lips as Derek groused: "I don't see anything."

"That's the problem."

All three men looked over at me, and although Derek's expression was sour, both of my classmates seemed rather impressed.

"Use your other eyes, Derek," I droned impatiently.

Honestly, who was the big, strong Alpha here anyway?

Maybe he lost his touch once I wasn't there to keep him on his toes anymore…

Derek's stormy expression grew that much more pronounced after my remark; but he soon followed my advice, his eyes flashing ruby red as he examined Scott's toned bicep.

"Yeah, I see it," he avoided my arrogant gaze as his vision became human once again: "It's two bands, right?"

Scott nodded.

"What does it mean?"

My cousin's words must've struck a nerve, for the boy's excited disposition rapidly melted away, his heart audibly sinking within his chest.

"I don't know," he admitted, voice fairly troubled. "It's just something I traced with my fingers," he squatted to demonstrate on the ashen floorboards.

Gaze sharp and intent, Derek perceptively asked the question we were all thinking: "Why is this so important to you?"

"Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?" he countered.

Opening his mouth to respond, Derek was quickly cut off as Stiles stated proudly: "To mark something."

Unimpressed, Derek merely rolled his eyes as the pale dork winked at him.

"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'," he explained, taking us all aback by his level of insight on the matter. "I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I guess I just decided to get it now, to make it a kind of reward."

"For what?" my older cousin probed further.

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer… even when I really, really want to… even when it was so hard not to sometimes."

I stifled my gag.

I'd almost forgotten how nauseating love-struck teenagers were.

Thankfully, I wasn't one anymore.

"I was trying to give her the space she wants, but going on four months, it still hurts," my eyes unexplainably met Stilinski's as the Beta continued: "It still feels like an, uh…"

"Like an open wound," Stiles softly finished his best friend's sentence, honey-suckle eyes darting away from my own unwavering ones.

I watched his cheeks flush and heard his heart flutter, though I, myself, felt nothing but intrigued.

He seemed so sheepish, or guilty even.

God, I couldn't even remember the feeling.

"Yeah," McCall nodded.

"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt," Derek continued to be as optimistic as ever.

"Ah, that's great," Stiles cynically murmured, but Scott just spoke over him, tone of voice resolute.

"Do it."

Derek's eyes shot over to my own, sadistically twinkling ones, and after I gave him a small shrug, the Alpha gave his silent consent with nothing but a firm nod.

Scott's chocolate eyes darted from Derek's impassive face to his friend's expectant one, but when he noticed me slowly rising and shimmying off my royal blue leather jacket, the kid rightfully gulped.

"If you want a mark like that to stay permanent," I beamed as I flicked on my blowtorch lighter, it's white-hot flame glistening just as brightly as my eyes, "You're gonna need a little heat."

"Oh, wow," Stiles' voice cracked, complexion draining of all color. "That's a… t-that's a lot for me, so I'm, um, I'm gonna take that as my cue," he started backing away towards the front door. "I'm just gonna wait outside."

"Nope," Derek yanked the squeamish human back by his flannel collar, preventing his escape. "You're gonna hold him down."

"M-me?" he croaked, face sickly green at the very prospect of bearing witness to this. "Y-you don't really need me on this one. Clever, sarcastic comeback, help finishing your homework or meal… I'm your guy. But uh, wrestling with a supernaturally strong and pissed off werewolf? With these arms?" he animatedly showcased those gangly limbs with the most desperate of tones. "N-no. You guys got this one."

"Sorry, sport," I shook my head with false sympathy. "No can do."

"B-but…"

"Trust me," I cut him off as I stepped up to the silent Beta, eyes meeting his dark brown ones as a grin curled my lips: "He's gonna need all the restraint he can get."

Eyes still locked onto Scott's, I felt Derek yank the lighter from my hand as Stilinski emitted a string of whiny moans.

"Hold him," Derek shoved the tan teen down onto the couch while Stiles and I took our positions on either side of him, the human much less enthusiastic than I was about the matter.

I even felt my heart flutter with sadistic glee when Derek clicked the button and I saw that brilliant blue flame jump out.

"Oh my God," Stiles squeaked, but before he could try to slip away at the last second, Derek gave the teen such a dangerous look that even I was a bit intimidated.

So, with quaking hands, the human grabbed onto McCall's now heavily perspiring form, while I eagerly did the same.

This was going to be interesting!

Exchanging curt nods with the Beta, Derek slowly began to bring the hand-held torch closer to Scott's bicep, the teenager's eyes immediately clamping shut whilst his best friend and I watched on in baited breath, and after my cousin's green eyes glanced over my steadfast face, he put the scalding flame directly onto McCall's flesh.

Agonizing screams erupted from young wolf, his amber eyes popping open as he shifted the moment his skin caught fire.

Stiles looked faint, Derek conflicted; yet I couldn't avert my gaze.

The faint lines of the original tattoo came to the surface, the stacked bands growing darker and darker whilst Scott's yelps morphed to glass-shattering howls.

"HOLD HIM BACK!" Derek commanded over the werewolf's animalistic snarls, but to no avail, for Scott suddenly ripped himself free, lunging at the Alpha.

Yet before his razor sharp claws could make contact with my cousin's exposed throat or the Alpha could react, I cracked the rabid beast across the skull with my bare fist, knocking him out.

"Wow," I cocked a brow as I watched him collapse back into the putrid couch and fall completely still, only to glance back up at my gawping companions. "That was pretty cool, huh?"

"Cool?" Stilinski incredulously asked, traumatized gaze falling back to Scott's charred and blistered flesh. "His arm looks… and smells… like a well-done hamburger!"
"I know," I chuckled to myself, leaning closer to the gnarly wound as I gleefully muttered. "So awesome."

"He tried to kill Derek!" the pale dweeb added.

"But he didn't," I impatiently reminded them. "So who cares?"

Why were they both being so goddamn uptight?

It's not like anyone got hurt… well, besides Scott, but he's the one that asked for this.

"I guess it's safe to say she didn't get her humanity back," Stiles mumbled to my stone-faced cousin, immediately making my jovial mood turn hostile.

So they had time to chat about that, but not the pack of power-hungry, bloodthirsty Alphas running around Beacon County, intent to mostly likely kill Derek and anyone who got in their way?

"What?" I hissed, forgetting about the slumbering Beta altogether.

"W-what?" Stiles clearly didn't mean for me to overhear. "What was what?" he chortled uneasily, shuffling ever so slightly behind an impassive Derek.

Shooting death rays at both silent boys, I wasn't sure if I should scare the human more, or ream out the Alpha, but before I could decide, a panting Scott bolted upright.

Fully human, his warm, russet eyes gazed down at his muscular arm, the once indiscernible tattoo now very much visible.

"It… it worked," his astounded face broke into the widest and toothiest grin.

"It looks pretty damn permanent now," Stiles deadpanned, tossing the sweatshirt back to Scott as he stood and flexed his arm.

"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent, though," McCall imparted, mind visibly burdened by deep thought. "Everything that's happened to us," he ruminated aloud, looking amongst the three of us with a saddened expression. "Everything just changes so fast."

Stiles' honey-suckle eyes met mine once again, though this time, I simply put my nose up in the air.

I came back to Beacon Hills to help find Lahey, ended up saving him, Scott, and Derek (twice), and now I was getting lip about losing my humanity after dying for that VERY SAME PERSON in the first place?

No way I was letting that slide!

He had no idea what I had been through these past four months! None of them did!

"Everything's so, um, ephemeral," he finished, oblivious to the palpable tension between his uncomfortable buddy and myself.

"Studying for PSATs?" Stilinski tore his eyes away from my lethal ones, trying to divert the conversation and lighten the mood.

"Yup."

"Nice."

"Well," I sighed, exhaling my indignation in a convincingly aloof manner. "Lighting you on fire was fun and all, but this reunion's getting boring." I threw on my cobalt jacket as I brushed by them. "Let me know if Lahey's got anything useful to share when we wakes up."

Then, hand hovering over the doorknob, I momentarily paused my departure as an idea popped into my head.

I knew that the instant I was out of ear-shot, all three of those idiots would end up gossiping about my humanity, or lack-there-of, unless I gave them another, much more riveting topic to discuss.

"Oh, and Derek?" I flipped my curled raven locks as I pulled open the door, drawing everyone's attention to a very recent, very peculiar renovation. "Next time you decide to paint the door, maybe you should consider doing both sides?"

His stubbled jaw clenched as his bright green eyes darkened, silently forbidding me to speak another word, but it was too late.

I had peaked both Scott and Stiles' interest.

He and I both knew it, and it was only a matter of time before one of them uncovered the Alpha pack's symbol engraved just beneath that thin coat of maroon paint.

"Just a thought," I caustically smirked before turning on my heel and strutting off, leaving an incensed Derek to finally come clean to both suspicious teenagers.

"You know, I'm starting not to like this idea. It sounds kinda dangerous," a fully healed Isaac Lahey fretfully paced to and fro, his navy eyes darting between Derek's stoic face and my own thoroughly bored one. "Y-you know what? I definitely don't like this idea, and I definitely don't lie him."

"You'll be fine," the lack of conviction behind Derek's words did little to ease the Beta's mind.

"Does it have to be him?" Isaac complained, expression so endearingly pathetic that I felt a twinge of empathy for the guy.

If I were in his shoes, there wouldn't be a snowball's chance in Hell that I would've volunteered to invite that psychopath into my already messed up noggin. Even if that meant abandoning the cause and letting the Alpha pack have their way with Erica and Boyd.

But maybe that was the 'lack of humanity' talking…

I huffed grumpily to myself as I crossed my arms, sinking deeper into the couch I was currently lounging on.

I didn't give a rat's ass what these people thought of me anyway. Not anymore, at least.

I was here for one reason, and one reason only, and trying to salvage already doomed friendships certainly wasn't it.

"He's knows how to do it. I don't," the Alpha explained for what felt like the millionth time. "It would be more dangerous if I tried to do it myself."

"Scott doesn't trust him. You know that, right?"

I stopped idly examining my fresh manicure for the first time since both werewolves had entered Derek's spacious loft in the industrial district of Beacon County, my patiently awaiting form taking them very much by surprise.

How Derek didn't think I'd be able to follow a simple paper trail back to the new property was beyond me…

My cousin's expression was flat, but I could hear his heart rate elevate at the mention of the Beta's strong allegiance to McCall.

"A-and personally," Isaac's voice faltered somewhat, for he most likely realized he had snubbed his Alpha. "I'd… well… I'd trust Scott."

"Do you trust me?" Derek stared directly through the boy, as if into his very soul.

"Yeah," the handsome teen nodded, only to reiterate much more resolutely, "Yes. Yes, I do. But I still don't like him."

Facial features easing up, Derek simply shrugged: "Nobody likes him."

And wouldn't you believe it, his timing as impeccable as ever, the elevator's steel door slid open, and in strolled the sociopath of the hour.

"Boys, FYI, coming back from the dead has left my abilities somewhat impaired, but the hearing still works," Peter Hale's offended face became quite snarky as he bitingly quipped: "So I hope you're comfortable saying whatever it is that you're feeling straight to my face."

"Nobody likes you," I rose from my seat, voice flat as I continued, standing directly in front of him: "Especially us."

He cocked a brow, piercing blue eyes peering down his nose at my fake smile, but before he could even utter a word, Derek aggressively cut him off: "Shut up and help us, or get out."

Characteristically cool demeanor unruffled by the coldness directed at him, Peter flicked out his claws: "Fair enough."

The blonde werewolf approached Isaac's trembling form, his icy gaze lit up with predatory exhilaration whilst Derek manually pushed the Beta onto the stool.

"Relax. I'll get more out of you if you're calm," Peter cooed, enjoying every moment of Lahey's torture.

"How do you know how to do this again?" he stalled, bouncing his leg anxiously.

"It's an ancient ritual used mostly by Alphas, since it's a skill that requires quite a bit of practice," he elucidated boastfully, forcing my exasperated eyes to look towards the heavens. "One slip, and you could paralyze someone. Or kill them."

"You… you've had a lot of practice, though, right?" the boy's wide, navy eyes watched as my estranged father circled him like a hawk.

"Well," he ruminated aloud, tracing his sharp nails along the back of Isaac's clammy neck. "I've never paralyzed anyone."

"Wait," Isaac furrowed his brows as he looked to Derek and I, "Does that mean you…"

The teenager's increasingly alarmed question quickly dropped off, however, for Peter had unceremoniously jammed his claws deep into the Beta's spinal chord, silencing him immediately.

Head thrown back, both Peter and Isaac's eyes rolled to the back of their heads. Bodies beginning to vibrate and twitch, I inched closer with keen interest, only for Derek to grab my wrist and yank me away.

"Don't touch them," he ordered forcefully, worry decorating his strong facial features.

"Wait," Peter's voice sounded far away as he searched Isaac's subconscious. "I… I think I see them."

But then Lahey's bright yellow eyes flew open, an invisible force propelling my father's body away and slamming him into a metal support beam.

"What did you see?" the Alpha rushed forward, voice urgent and pulse racing just as fast as his uncle's.

"It was confusing," his gaze was unfocused as he thought hard. "Um, images. Vague shapes."

"But you saw something," Derek pressed.

Peter's unnerved stare shot over to Isaac's heavily panting form, the dazed boy gingerly touching the fresh cuts on the back of his bleeding neck.

"He found them."

"Erica and Boyd?"

"I barely saw them. I mean, just glimpses."

"But you did see them," I handed Lahey a towel so we wouldn't bleed everywhere, though my focus was solely on Peter.

Nodding, my father's expression grew even more perturbed: "And worse."

Emerald eyes flitting over to my serious face, Derek and I exchanged knowing looks as he stated grimly: "Deucalion."

"He was talking to them. Something about time running out."

"What does it mean?" Isaac's shaky form slowly made its way over, his Alpha helping Peter to his equally unstable feet.

"He's gonna kill them," Derek answered darkly, jaw clenched.

"No, no, no, no, no. He didn't say that," Peter clarified, eyes dancing amongst all of our watchful faces. "But he did make them a promise that by the next full moon, they'd both be dead."

I heard Derek and Isaac's hearts nearly stop in their chests as my older cousin dreadfully repeated: "The next full moon?"

Tension headache setting in, I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, unsurprised by this family's continual lack of luck as I voiced the singular, unsettling thought that was at the forefront of everybody's mind.

"Which is tomorrow night."