ANCHOR¹ {Isaac Lahey | Teen Wolf}

Prologue

The moon bathed Beacon Hills in its pearly glow, pale beams of light dancing through the inky black to illuminate the town. Autumn winds gently rustled through the canopy of vaulting trees, which cast dappled shadows on the leafy forest floor. Fallen foliage blanketed the preserve as far as the eye could see, a wash of deep amber and lighter yellow hues glinting as the slivers of moonlight danced over them.

And deep within the forest, secluded from the rest of the town by a dense thicket of abscissing oaks, was the Hale House. Usually, it would have been alive with the juvenile growls of cubs as they playfully tackled one another in the front room, the scoldings of the older members of the family as they rushed to pull them apart, and the more mundane activities of life.

Tonight, however, as the full face of the moon hung like an opalescent orb in the sky, the younger werewolves were escorted down to the basement, before being secured with thick chains that snaked out from the wall.

A gentle breeze whistled in through the small barred openings near the ceiling, helping to calm the increasingly aggressive werewolves inside. Those who had already mastered the art of controlling the shift were helping Talia to train the betas who were still grappling with not trying to rip their family's heads off every full moon.

But while the rest of her family were together as a pack, Louisa was alone in the root cellar, firing arrow after arrow into a crude straw-filled target she had set up down there to take her mind off of her rabid siblings this time every month. Because unlike them, she hadn't inherited her mother's lycanthropy. She was, in every meaning of the burden she carried, the runt of the litter.

Gnawing at her lip nervously, she let a final arrow fly before lowering her bow. Just like all the others, it had found its home in the smallest ring of the target, sending several wisps of straw fluttering to the ground. She wasn't supposed to be down here, not after what had happened to Paige several months earlier, and her mother was sure to ground her if she found out. But it was infinitely better than being confined to her room, unable to block out the snarls from her family.

A wave of guilt washed over her and she realised that tonight of all nights Talia didn't need her going walkabout, she had enough on her plate already. Sighing, she carefully pulled her arrows out of the target, stashing them in the quiver fastened over her shoulder, and headed towards the rickety stairs that jutted out from the earth.

Cold air bit at her exposed skin as she emerged from beneath the large tree stump and traipsed back home. She slung her bow over her arm beside her quiver, reaching to pull some gloves onto her paling hands.

As the Hale House loomed out of the dark and into view, she quietly slipped her key into the lock, turning it ever so slowly in case any of the adults heard and rushed upstairs to verbally berate her for disobeying their Alpha's orders. Though thankfully, as she carefully crept over the threshold, no heavy footsteps came thumping up from the basement.

Then, an agonising yowl that made Louisa's blood curdle echoed through the house. She recognised it instantly as one of Cora's, her twin sister.

Without a second thought, she turned on her heels towards the kitchen, where the sliding metal door stood a sinister sentry to the supernatural denizens behind. But before she could curl her fingers around the handle, a familiar voice said, "And just where do you think you're going, missy?"

Drooping her head as she turned, she quietly mumbled, "I wanted to see Cora."

Her uncle Peter was watching her with a small smile, leant against one of the kitchen cabinets, nursing a steaming cup of hot chocolate in his hands. Chuckling as she reluctantly began to retreat upstairs, he pushed himself up and set his mug down on the side, covering the length of the room in a few, long strides. He bent down, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her into the air.