"She has little innocent demons in her eyes and they recklessly play with matches. I've never seen sparks so pretty."
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"When Scott, stiles and Allison switched their parents positions with theirs they woke something up. Not only did they leave a do...
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The three men were walking back to where they had parked their vehicles, Abigail had somehow passed out and was now being carried by Derek.
Scott walked a few paces ahead, trying to process what had just happened. He couldn't deny that something was off about Abigail, but seeing her laughing and rolling around in the dirt—like she had been part of the woods for centuries—was unsettling. He shot a glance back at Derek, who was carrying her bridal style with ease.
"Do you think she's... like one of those creatures we've been dealing with?" Scott asked, his voice low. He wanted to believe the best in people, but it was hard to ignore how much energy and power she seemed to exude.
"She's not a normal human," Derek said quietly, glancing down at Abigail's peaceful face as she rested in his arms. "But she's not like any creature we've encountered either."
"Then what is she?" Stiles asked, sounding more intrigued than worried.
Derek hesitated for a moment, unsure if he could put it into words. He knew what Deaton had said about the soil activating her powers and how her connection to nature felt ancient, almost primal. But it still didn't explain the feeling he had when she looked at him, the way everything seemed to settle into place when she smiled, or the pull he felt to protect her at all costs.
"I don't know," Derek admitted, frustration in his voice. "But I think she's something old—something tied to the earth. Maybe even older than anything we've faced."
They reached the vehicles, and Derek gently placed Abigail in the back seat of his car, securing her carefully. He glanced at Scott and Stiles before getting in the driver's seat, his mind racing.
"You should both keep an eye on her," Derek said, his voice quiet but serious. "She could be dangerous if we don't understand what's going on."
"Yeah," Scott nodded, looking at the unconscious girl in the back seat, his thoughts heavy. "But we can't just keep her in the dark either. She needs to know what she is... or at least we need to know so we can help her."
Derek's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drove, his gaze flickering back to Abigail in the rearview mirror. Her beauty, her power—it was all overwhelming. He couldn't help but wonder how she would fit into this world. But there was something else he couldn't ignore: a deep-seated connection he couldn't explain. The desire to keep her safe felt more than just protective; it felt like it was carved into him.
As they pulled up to the hospital, Derek looked at Scott and Stiles.
"Stay with her," he said, his tone urgent. "I'm going to talk to Deaton first. He might know something more about her after our talk."
Before either of them could respond, Derek got out of the car and made his way inside, his mind focused on finding answers. Abigail's scent still lingered in the air, fresh and wild, like the earth itself was calling to him.
