A/N: I don't own Teen Wolf, the actors or any of the other characters you may recognize which may be mentioned. I do however own the changes in plot and my original characters. This won't be exactly like the show for obvious reasons. This is purely for entertainment reasons, with that said enjoy and make sure to subscribe and review. I appreciate all feedback!

A/N p.s: This story is based on my one-shot titled "Beauty and the Beast". :]

Cry Wolf: Chapter 1
written by: xVampyraxHavocx

Bethany Joy McCall's tempting ochre glossed pout released a thwarted sigh, warm cappuccino irises searching relentlessly through the fallen autumn leaves. The squish of damp earth under the young woman's beige boots interrupting the silence along with the occasional snapping of twigs. The teenager's sense of direction was hopeless; she could get lost in much less helpful surroundings. Scott McCall, the woman's younger brother, had astonishingly managed to lose his inhaler in the abysmal depths of Beacon Hills' eerie forest. Due to the young woman's considerate nature, she volunteered to accompany her younger sibling and his best friend in their mission to find his medication. The young man was a severe asthmatic, finding the medical aid was essential. Faint male voices reached her ears, alerting Bethany of the boys' whereabouts. Quickly jogging over to them, a sloshing pierced the momentary quiet as she frowned, there was no way this much mud would come off her favorite pair of brown Suedette Cowboy Boots.

"My body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something." Scott McCall stated, releasing an apprehensive sigh.

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this. It's a specific kind of infection." Stiles, his best friend, replied shoving his strong hands within his denim pockets; dark eyebrows furrowing together in sarcastic knowledge.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Yeah." The sheriff's son replied; placing his strong hands on his jean clad hips. The journey came to a screeching halt as both boys stopped in their tracks. "I think it's called Lycanthropy."

"What's that? Is that bad?" Scott inquired, panic translucid in his deep voice. Bethany's warm dazzling cappuccino irises rolled, the beginning of a smirk creeping across her plump beige glossed lips.

"Oh yeah, it's the worst, but only once a month."

"Once a month?"

"Mhmm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles replied, releasing a howl mockingly causing Scott to shove his friend in annoyance. "You're the one that heard a wolf howling."

"There could be something seriously wrong with me."

"I know! You're a werewolf!" Stiles released a deep chuckle, raising his strong hands in a threatening manner as if they were claws, a growl erupting from his plush lips. The conversation died down as Scott's perplexed dark chocolate eyes took in the group's surroundings. The teenager glanced in all available directions, obviously bewildered as to why no one had encountered his inhaler yet. According to the nerve wrecking memory of the night before, this exact location had been where he'd lost possession of his medication. The verbal recollection of the night's events disconcerted the young woman's mind. There are no wolves in California, Bethany thought as she watched her younger sibling crouch in a kneeling position, strong hands grasping a few damp wilting leaves.

"What're you doing here?" A deep raspy voice inquired, the rustling of leaves starling the young woman to the mysterious male presence. "Huh? This is private property." Bethany's warm cappuccino irises took in the stranger's every feature. He was incredibly good looking. He appeared to be about six feet tall, a form fitting navy blue cotton t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame accompanied with a fashionable charcoal leather jacket, worn boot cut denim jeans, midnight cropped hair, intense vivacious olive green eyes, strong clean shaven statuesque facial structure.

"Uh, sorry man. We didn't know." Stiles replied, the group completely caught off guard to the hostile young man.

"Yeah, we were just looking for something but forget it." Scott replied, subconsciously taking a step in front of his sister in a protective manner. No one knew what the hostile stranger would do, and he wanted to make sure his sister would be safe. An agonizingly long moment passed before the stranger shoved a strong hand in his midnight leather jacket, tossing something in Scott's direction. His inhaler. The stranger's brash olive green eyes caught sight of the young woman, a strange stir within the depths of his toned stomach making him uneasy. She was absolutely beautiful. She possessed a petite frame; his guess was that the girl was no taller than five feet three inches. Lengthy raven tendrils flowing meticulously in loose ringlets over her narrow shoulders, mesmerizing milk chocolate gold flecked irises, perfectly crafted button nose, plump beige glossed lips, soft modelesque jawline. The beauty's features possessed an attractive feline characteristic. It may have been an extremely inappropriate observation, but his cryptic cold willow irises noticed the beautiful woman had a killer body; a sleeveless figure-fit rose and coal plaid blouse tied strategically under the beauty's voluptuous bust, top button undone enough to make him uncomfortable, short denim shorts hugging her shapely hips. This beautiful young girl had the kind of enticing curves that made men drool. Without another word, he turned around and stalked off in the opposite direction doing everything within his power to shake the image of the young girl from his mind as he did so.

"Alright, c'mon I gotta get to work." Scott stated, shoving his inhaler in his jean pocket as he grasp his sister's hand. The eerie way in which the stranger stared at his older sister made him nervous, clasping the young woman's dainty hand tightly in his in a desperate attempt to keep her as close as possible. He was the man of the family; it was his duty and his privilege to keep her safe. He loved her. She and their mom meant everything to him.

"That was Derek Hale. You guys remember, right?" Stiles inquired. "He's only like a few years older than us."

"Remember what?" Bethany questioned, glancing timidly in the direction the stranger had been moments ago.

"His family. They all burnt to death in a fire like ten years ago."

"I wonder what he's doing back." Scott inquired hypothetically, not entirely sure he was in dire need to know the answer. Bethany's impertinent milk chocolate gold flecked irises intuitively glimpsed over her narrow shoulder, a conquering urge to see the handsome stranger one more time, the young woman took her supple bottom lip between her straight pearly white teeth. He was gone. Derek Hale's heavy footsteps came to an abrupt halt, strong muscular frame releasing an impulse driven tremble. A haphazard beating reverberated within Derek's sensitive ears, the masonry within his steel ribcage pulsing to the bizarre rhythm. The heartbeats where syncing; two effervescent muscles drumming to the same rhythm in a tune all their own. An expeditious heave jerked internally; strong hand grasping for a massive oak tree beside his body, Derek's chapped lips parted releasing a distressing gasp. The longer he stood there, fingernails digging in the dry callous bark, a desolate agony spread through his supernatural veins like wildfire.

Derek Hale's baffled olive green irises widened, the ravenous internal monster savagely clawing at the masonry so meticulously built around his steel heart. As quickly as the unexpected torment began, the misery vanished, oddly enough, the unfathomable void remained. The unintelligible savage lurking beyond the surface crept within the depths of his bewitched olive green eyes, an ice blue pigmentation spreading through the iris like an infection. Years of self-control, discipline, and preparation demolished by a moment of impetuous animalistic urge. Derek's dark eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, muscular frame standing straight once more; the young man did what he knew best. He ran.