Teen Wolf Movie: Part 1

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I woke up, drenched in a cold sweat, my breaths heavy and ragged. "That dream felt so real," I thought to myself as I glanced at Stiles, peacefully asleep beside me. A small smile crept onto my lips as I reflected on our journey, the obstacles we'd overcome to reach this moment. We were finally married, Stella Stilinski—it had a beautiful ring to it.

Slipping out of bed, I made my way to the kitchen, the weight of the dream still lingering in my mind. Pouring myself a glass of water, I splashed some on my face, hoping to shake off the residual unease. As I looked out the window above the sink, a familiar figure appeared behind me, sending a shiver down my spine. "Allison," I muttered, my heart pounding in my chest.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I felt Stiles' comforting arms wrap around me from behind, his presence a soothing balm to my frayed nerves

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Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I felt Stiles' comforting arms wrap around me from behind, his presence a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. "Same dream again?" he asked, his voice gentle as he rubbed his eyes, concern etched on his features.

"It's been a week now... they're becoming more... real," I admitted, leaning into his embrace, finding solace in his warmth. "Maybe I need to go back to Beacon Hills," I suggested, the words heavy with uncertainty.

Stiles paused, his expression conflicted. "You're kidding, right?" he responded, searching my eyes for reassurance. But I could see the worry etched in his gaze, a reflection of my own fears.

"No, I'm serious. Maybe it's a sign," I insisted, the pull to return to our hometown growing stronger with each passing day. Despite our life in Washington D.C., the urge to confront my past was undeniable.

After a lengthy discussion, Stiles reluctantly agreed to let me go, albeit with conditions. His love and concern were palpable, his resolve unwavering. "I already lost you once; I'm not losing you again," he declared, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Upon landing, I immediately texted Stiles, though I knew he could track my location at any time. I had decided to head to Scott's place since he seemed to be the best lead. Memories flooded back as I pulled up to the house, my heart racing. The thought of my previous death in this very place loomed large as I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, finding it unlocked.

"Stella?" Uncle Chris's voice brought me out of my reverie. Scott, Jackson, and Lydia were gathered around what appeared to be multiple scribbles forming the Nematon. My heart sank; I wasn't alone in feeling the weight of its significance.

Uncle Chris enveloped me in a hug, a comforting familiarity after our last conversation, which was when I had just married Stiles. Scott followed suit, his hug a reminder of the brotherly bond we shared. Jackson offered a wave, and I returned it with a small smile. It had been a while since I'd seen him, not since leaving London. Lydia's expression was a mix of confusion and nervousness, but I pushed that aside as I explained my recent experiences with the dreams. To my surprise, they all had similar encounters, except for Jackson.

After our discussion, we agreed to search for the Nematon, especially since Lydia had drawn the sketch. Uncle Chris had some errands to run first and would join us later, while Jackson declined, citing a lack of interest.

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