Night had cloaked Beacon Hills in a shroud of nervous anticipation. Inside Stiles’s Jeep, Scott and I were on our way to Beacon Hills High School, the very grounds where shadows danced under the gleaming moonlight, hinting at secrets that were as old as time. Scott had a fierce determination in his eyes, the same fire we all knew too well, while Stiles, with all the comic relief he could muster, drove us straight into potential disaster.
“This is a terrible idea,” I muttered, the tension knotting in my stomach. I had reluctantly agreed to join them, mainly because I needed to talk to Stiles about my feelings.
“I know,” Scott replied, his voice steady but uncertain.
“And we’re still going to do it,” Stiles continued with his usual bravado, though the slight tremor in his hands betrayed his anxiety.
“Can you think of something better?” Scott shot back, his tone edging towards irritation.
“Personally, I’m a big fan of ignoring a problem and hoping it goes away,” Stiles quipped, trying to lighten the mood, but deep down, we all knew we were walking into a dangerous game.
The parking lot was dimly lit, and as soon as Stiles parked the Jeep, I hesitated. “Just make sure we can get inside,” I said, glancing around. The school loomed before us like a giant predator waiting to consume its prey.
Stiles yanked out a pair of bolt cutters from the backseat, and a pair of headlights sliced through the night as Derek’s Camaro pulled up next to us. Derek stepped out, his demeanor as tense as ever, a dark cloud hovering over him.
“Where’s my boss?” Scott asked, stepping forward in a show of authority.
“In the back,” Derek replied curtly.
Curiosity piqued, I leaned over to peek inside Derek’s Camaro. My heart fell into my stomach like a stone. Deaton, our trusted veterinarian, was bound, gagged, and blindfolded. “He looks comfortable,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.
“Focus!” Derek snapped, wiping the distraction away. “Where are you going?”
“I’m tied to the Alpha,” Scott replied confidently, a hint of a smile breaking through his earlier unease. “I’m going to see if you’re right.”
With that, we moved toward the school’s entrance. The wind rustled the leaves, and my skin prickled with primal energy. It felt wrong; we were venturing into the heart of a mystery that had been stalking us for far too long.
Moonlight bled through the horizontal blinds in the principal’s office, illuminating the dust motes floating through the air. Scott slammed the door open, sending a cloud of dust swirling around us, and I stumbled inside, my heart racing. “One question: What are you going to do if the Alpha doesn’t show up?” Stiles asked, breaking the palpable tension that hung between us.
“I don’t know,” Scott admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“What are you going to do if the Alpha does show up?” I asked, curious to see how far he’d thought this through.
“I don’t know,” he said again, sounding increasingly uncertain.
“Good plan,” Stiles and I said in unison, the irony not lost on any of us.
Scott eyed the microphone on the principal’s desk with determination mixed with hesitation. “You told me a wolf howls to signal its position to the rest of the pack, right?” He looked to Stiles, who nodded, understanding dawning on both of them.
“But if you bring him here, does that make you part of his pack?” Stiles asked, concern creeping into his voice.
“I hope not,” Scott replied, his smile faltering.
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