Somehow, I ended up writing Teen Wolf fanfiction instead of studying for my test. oh, well :)

I've been waiting a long time to post this one, I really have big plans for it.

So, let me just say a few things. First of all, I know season 3 ended a long time ago (by the way, what a season, huh?), but I've been writing this piece from the first episodes, so it's really different from the storyline from the show - there is no Darach in here. Second, I've been trying to concentrate on Isaac more than on anyone else, because.. well, he's my favourite and it's really a challenge to write about him.

Third, it kind of began with my other story about Isaac - He will. It's not a sequel, it's just my inspiration.

And last, but not least, there are new characters in here, hope you'll love them just like I do.

So, let's begin!

Chapter 1

"Who the hell is she?"

He didn't understand why Scott insisted getting to school by his motorcycle. Being a werewolf gave him strength and speed. That's exactly why Isaac preferred a good walk through the woods… ok, maybe calling it a 'walk' an exaggeration.

Isaac smiled when he heard from far away the noises from Stiles' jeep. That piece of metal should have been thrown away long time ago, but who's he to say something. He was walking to school anyway.

He hasn't seen his friends for more than a week. It has been a year since his father's death…actually, murder. He never thought good things about his father, but the pressure…he somehow couldn't take it. Something snapped inside of him. He didn't know why, but he ran away. It was unbearable – the looks, the whispers … he needed a little break. So he made himself one.

He wandered around Beacon Hills, not showing himself to people. Losing Erica, too, didn't really help the matter. But now it was time to get back. They were people that expected it and he wasn't going to let them down.

"You can't be serious! Are you really just going to sit and wait?! And what if he makes a move, what if..?"

Isaac almost started laughing. Stiles was his old self, like a junkie on hyper drive. He sometimes didn't understand him, but he felt his kindness, as strange as that sounds.

"Yes, Stiles, that's exactly what I'm going to do! We can't predict any move Deucalion makes, so I'm not going to get myself killed…at least not too soon than it should be!"

"Didn't anyone tell you that you're quite the pessimist, Scott?" asked Isaac, approaching them from behind.

"Isaac!" exclaimed both of them.

Scott and Stiles saw the all known smirk that could belong only to Isaac.

Isaac took off his headphones and sat at his usual place in class. It was the last period before lunch – English. In which, of course, he needed to be more serious. Miss Jennifer wasn't one to fool, like he usually did with Coach Finstock. Just as the bell has rang, a lot of students came into classrooms. That's why he loved coming in a little earlier than everyone. Being pushed through small doors to get to a class he didn't really wanted to be in … not his style. Fuck logic, as they say.

He smelled Scott and Stiles a little while ago, as they took their own seats.

And then it happened.

He felt something… something different. It wasn't entirely a smell, but it totally was something that caught his attention. He felt like something was pressuring him, that kind of pressure when you have a lot of secrets and you don't dare to say a single word to anyone else other than to yourself.

Suddenly, he was suffocating. He lifted his eyes, trying to find that someone that made him feel so useless. He never felt someone's pain or secrets so intense.

A pair of green eyes caught his attention. Isaac followed with his eyes the girl, frowning. He never saw her.

She was a not so tall girl, dressed in a simple tank and jeans, both black, which made her long red hair look like it was on fire. Green eyes, black make up and full lips, forming a barely visible smirk. She surely wasn't one of the typical girls in his school.

He turned his head after her and waited for his gut feeling to disappear, but it didn't happen. Quite the contrary…the moment she turned her head and looked at him with her big eyes, he couldn't hold the eye contact.

Now he knows.

She was one of them.

A werewolf.

"Who the hell is she?" he whispered, barely audible.