The rain licked at the skin of her face, which was dry and frozen, a result of her spending nearly all her time outside, despite the near Baltic December wind. Each rain drop felt like a miniature bullet, colliding with her skin at such a force that they almost took her breath away, but still she kept running, her booted feet pounding loudly against the frozen ground. The rifle, secured by a strap, bounced against her back as she ran, the metal handle digging into her shoulder blades uncomfortably – but she didn't have time to think about that, nor did she have time to readjust it, her assailant was close, she could feel him, she could smell him.

The stench of him was almost offensive, invading her nostrils and making her gag. It was a mixture of wet dog and decomposition, and something she hoped to never have to experience again after tonight, if she made it through the night that was. She ran faster and her legs screamed out in protest. Why in the hell was the Jefferson National Park so god damn big? She thought to herself, her green eyes scanning the dense foliage, desperately searching for something she recognised, a marker that meant she was almost safe, almost home. She should never had gone hunting the night of a full moon, and she certainly knew she should never have gone alone – but it was too late now for thoughts of what she should have done.

When he finally caught up to her a small part of her was thankful. Her lungs, which had been burning from over exertion, relished in the momentary pause that came when his strong arms snatched her from the ground. Her legs relaxed the moment she was lifted into the air, grateful for the relief from carrying her weight. His teeth sank into her flesh and she screamed, a blood curdling, spine tingling scream that would have travelled for miles had the forest not been so thick and the rain so heavy that night. The pain that coursed through her body was like nothing she had ever experienced, and although it was excruciating she felt eerily calm, as thought it would all be over soon. Then everything went black.

Riley Olivia Fletcher woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in her bed, the bedsheets clenched tightly in her small fists. She blinked furiously whilst her eyes adjusted to the light and her chest rose and fell rapidly as she let out quick, ragged breaths. Sweat drenched her entire body, causing her blonde hair to cling to the skin of her face and her jaw was clenched so tightly shut that every single one of her teeth ached. She barely had enough time to question whether it had all been a dream before her father burst through the door and into her bedroom, his eyes ablaze with concern as he looked upon his only child.

Marcus Fletcher was a handsome man, whose good looks were tainted only by the cuts and bruises that littered his face. His eyes were an oceanic blue and swimming with kindness, a trait that seemed ironic to Riley as she stared down the barrel of the gun her father had pointed right at her.

"D-dad…" She whimpered, "What are you doing?"

Marcus' lips were tight and he frowned at the girl before him. It took everything in her for Riley to tear her gaze from her father, or rather the gun he held towards her, and glance down at herself. Her green eyes were met with a mass of crimson red. Blood. Her own blood. It stained her skin and drenched her bedsheets. Riley's breath hitched in her throat and she shifted her gaze slowly back towards her father, doing her very best to suppress the sobs that threatened to explode out of her.

"Riley…" Her father breathed quietly, even the sound of her name broke his heart. "I warned you, I warned you never to hunt alone."

Riley nodded slowly where she sat, blinking back tears and breathing slowly. "I know, I know you did, but after what they did to Mom…I…I'm sorry Daddy please." Memories of her mother's murder, a bloody and brutal affair came flooding back to Riley in a whirlwind of emotion and when she could no longer fight it she sobbed, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

The Hunters Code was a fairly simple one – hunt those that threaten your own – and the Fletcher's stuck to it pretty rigidly. As a family they were close knit, three generations living together under one roof in a house in Virginia. Second in notoriety only to the Argent's, the Fletcher's patrolled the East Coast of America, hunting the supernatural and keeping the world safe for the humans that lived in it. Riley Fletcher had been trained to be a hunter her whole life; she was award winning in her marksmanship, was highly skilled in a number of martial arts, and had competed twice for her country in gymnastics at the Junior Olympics earning herself a silver and gold medal in the process. When she had turned eleven her parents had explained the truth behind the family business, they had told Riley that every ghost story she had ever heard was laced with truth, that there truly were monsters out there and they really did do monstrous things. Indoctrinated into a regime of hatred for all things supernatural Riley was ruthless, accompanying her extended family on a hunt for the first time when she was only thirteen years old – she helped her older cousin Jacob take down a wendigo that night and it was the proudest moment of her life to date. When Riley's mother was murdered when Riley was fifteen by a Davea – a shadow demon – the young girl took it upon herself to enact vengeance on all and every supernatural being she came across, and that was exactly what she had been trying to do that evening in Jefferson National Park.

Marcus, who had yet to lower his weapon, looked at his daughter through his watery blue eyes, his brow furrowed as he did his very best not to cry. "The family, they won't accept this Riley, you're going to become the very thing we've worked so hard to rid the world of. You stupid, stupid girl…how could you have done this to us, after what happened to your mother?"

Riley remained silent, hugging her knees close to her chest and rocking slightly, her green eyes staring in silent terror at the face of her father, a man who should have always protected her and who now looked to be set to end her life.

"Riley…" Marcus Fletchers voice was quieter now, softer and kinder, but still he did not lower his weapon – it was almost as though he feared his own daughter would lunge forward and attack him. "Baby you've got to run."

Riley blinked up at her father and straightened up a little, a look of confusion washing over her pretty features. "Where would I go?"

"Beacon Hills." Her father stated simply. For the first time since he'd entered her room he lowered his weapon, placing the glock on the desk next to the door, but being mindful to keep a watchful eye on Riley now that he was unarmed. "Here," He said, unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing and throwing it in her direction. "Get out of those bloody clothes, put this on."

The blonde hadn't heard of Beacon Hills in her entire sixteen years of life, she didn't even know what state it was in, but still she nodded at her father's orders. Getting slowly to her feet she discarded her bloodied clothes on her bed – which too was stained with her own blood – and changed into her father's shirt and a fresh pair of jeans, pulling a hoodie on for extra warmth.

Marcus nodded when she turned back to him, and slowly picked up the gun from the desk once more, aiming it towards her once again. "Close your eyes Riles."

Riley's breath hitched in her throat and she whimpered, but otherwise did as she was told. Shutting her green eyes tight she clenched her hands in fists at either side of her petite body, awaiting the inevitable. The gunshot was loud and Riley flinched at the sound of it, but the searing pain she had expected never came. Opening one eye she peeked at her father who had since holstered his weapon and was stood, arms folded in her doorway. Riley turned to look at her bed, the bullet was so deeply embedded into her pillow that she couldn't even see it, but slowly she began to understand what her father had done. The blood on her sheets, the gunshot and the bullet, it all made sense – her family would think he had put her down, that he had done the right thing.

"Beacon Hills." Marcus repeated. "You're an omega now Riley, and you and I both know they don't last two seconds on their own. You need to find a pack, an alpha."

"How do I-"

"Scott McCall." Marcus cut his daughter off with his words. "He worked with the Argents, he's good – or so they say. A true alpha. He will help you."

The sound of gunfire had raised alarm within the rest of the house and Riley could hear the footsteps of the rest of her family approaching.

"Dad I, I can't do this. I can't be this." The blonde whispered her voice cracking as she did so.

"Yes you can Riley. You're a Fletcher, and I'll be damned if a Fletcher ever gave up." He gave her a half smile before nodding towards her open window, signalling that she should make herself scarce.

Before she even really knew what was happening Riley was running again, her feet colliding with the hard concrete as she left her home, family, and worldly possessions behind her. She had no money and only the clothes on her back but still she pressed onwards, she didn't have a clue where Beacon Hills was, but she knew she had to get there.

It took Riley eight months to walk the three thousand miles from Virginia to California, which meant eight full moons, and eight times that her own body betrayed her and she shifted into the very thing she despised most. She spent the nights of the full moon as far away from any civilisation as she could, determined not to hurt anyone – and so far she'd managed it. The first time she shifted was excruciatingly painful, and she had screamed, or rather howled, louder than she had even thought possible. The most recent shift had been relatively painless, she had long since learnt that she couldn't fight the wolf within her, and so she'd simply stopped trying to, in fact she'd started to relish in the power the wolf brought her. She was faster, stronger and more agile than she'd ever been before as a human. Her senses were heightened to a degree she hadn't even believed to be possible and as far as she was aware she had a pretty good amount of self-control, the only thing she'd attacked to date was a rabbit that had foolishly got in her way one evening.

Ripley's Motel was certainly a sight for sore eyes for the blonde girl that hadn't slept in a proper bed for longer than she could remember. The neon sign flickered pink and blue in the night sky, spinning slowly on a small metal pole forty feet from the ground. Rain, which had seemingly not stopped falling for two days straight, drenched Riley from head to toe. Her usually bright blonde hair looked brown with a mixture of dirt and rain water. Her clothes, the same ones she'd left her home in eight months ago, were filthy and tattered and her skin was covered in a thick layer of grime and filth. When she pushed open the door to the reception at the motel, a small bell rang, indicating her presence and upon hearing it a pretty brunette tottered her way out of the office and up to the desk.

"Welcome to Ripley's." She greeted, without looking at her customer, her chocolate brown orbs instead fixated on the small screen of the phone she held in her hands. When Freya Ripley finally looked up to see who had walked in she jumped, almost dropping her iPhone in the process. "Oh my god." She said, startled by the general appearance of the girl stood before her.

Freya had to admit she'd seen one or two things in her short seventeen years of life. She mostly put it down to her profession; the motel business was wrought with odd happenings. But she partly blamed it on where her family had chosen to settle – Beacon Hills – it seemed to Freya that lunatics gravitated towards the Californian town and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. It was for these reasons that, despite her initial reaction to the girl stood before her, who had turned up dripping from head to toe and wearing filthy clothing a least three sizes too large, Freya was otherwise indifferent to what others would deem quite strange.

"Single or double room?" She asked with a smile, pulling out her parents log book from under the desk, grabbing a pen along with it, ready to write down the girl's details.

Riley stared at the brunette before her for a long while before she actually spoke. She took in the girl's appearance; the way her dark hair fell in neat plaits either side of her round face and her chocolate brown orbs that looked at Riley without a hint of judgement. Riley's own green eyes drifted to the exposed skin of Freya's neck, settling on the soft pulse of the young girls carotid artery, oh how she'd love to sink her teeth into that.

Freya cleared her throat when Riley didn't answer for a, frankly, unusually long period of time, and raised an eyebrow in silent questioning.

"Single." Riley replied hastily, tearing her gaze from Freya's neck and silencing the wolf within her. This was the first time she'd spoken to another human in over eight months, and she frowned at the way her own voice sounded – having not heard it in so long.

"Awesome, I'm Freya by the way…"

"Riley, Riley Fletcher."

"Well Riley, Riley Fletcher, let me show you to your room."

A/N: Hey guys! I'm really excited to finally be writing a Teen Wolf fic, considering it's one of my fave shows! This chapter, and probably the next few will mostly be intended to introduce the main characters, Riley and Freya but the story should eventually pick up around Teen Wolf Season 4. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter + are as excited by the girls as I am!