YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT?

Scott and Stiles run into another Alpha… quite literally.

"Ah-fuck." She was limping, her left leg definitely felt broken…

Megan hissed, when she dared to peek down.

The bone in her thigh was peeking out of her skin. Oh sweet baby Jesus did that hurt. The smell of her own blood… was… nauseating.

And she peered over her shoulder, the Jeep that hit her stopped. She started dragging herself toward a tree, cussing beneath her breath.

Just…her…luck.

Hopefully they were not hunters, otherwise, fuck, she might as well make it easier for them and paint a bloody target on her chest. She was vulnerable and tired.

"Oh-oh are you okay?" A panicky voice answered, she turned to see some teenage boys. "Scott, oh god," the panicked voice started, "I think we should take her to the hospital." The gangly boy's fist was covering his mouth in disgust and turned toward the other boy for guidance. The other stayed silent.

"No, no hospitals." She fired back.

"I think the bone sticking out of your leg would say otherwise." Gangly boy argued.

"Stiles wait." The quiet boy stepped forward, making Megan wary, until his eyes flashed red.

Her eyes flashed red as well. She was in disbelief, he was so young.

"For fucks sake, how old are you?" She hissed, mad at herself. She should have been able to smell another Alpha from a mile away.

"I'm 17." He stuck out his hand, "My name's Scott McCall."