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Alec was kneeling beside Max, carefully checking him over. His hands hovered above his brother's chest, glowing faintly with a rune's light as he ensured there were no lingering injuries. Max stirred slightly, letting out a small groan, but Alec's relief was palpable.

"He's stable," Alec said, glancing back at Jace and Izzy. "Just exhausted. Whatever happened to him, it drained him completely."

Stiles, standing off to the side with his arms crossed, watched the scene unfold. He should have felt relief knowing Max was safe, but something gnawed at him—a prickling unease at the back of his mind. He couldn't shake it.

Dean noticed his expression. "What's with the face, kid?"

Stiles didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved toward the window. He hadn't realized how long they'd been inside, but something felt... wrong. Pulling back the curtain, he froze.

"Uh... guys?" Stiles called out, his voice tight with unease.

Everyone turned toward him.

"What is it?" Derek asked, moving closer.

Stiles pointed out the window, his hand trembling slightly. "The sky... it's red."

The room went quiet as everyone rushed to the window. The darkening evening sky had taken on an ominous crimson hue, the clouds swirling unnaturally. It wasn't just a sunset; it was something far more sinister.

Magnus, who had been standing by Alec and Max, stiffened. He stepped forward, his golden cat-like eyes narrowing as he peered outside. "That's... not normal," he muttered, his voice low.

"No kidding," Dean quipped, his hand instinctively reaching for the Colt tucked in his waistband.

"What does it mean?" Scott asked, looking from Stiles to Magnus.

"It's demonic," Magnus said gravely. "A shift in the balance. Someone—or something—is summoning a powerful force."

Jace exchanged a glance with Izzy. "Lilith," he said, his tone grim.

Stiles nodded, his jaw clenched. "She's escalating. First Alec, then Max. She's targeting people close to us for a reason."

Alec, who had been quiet, spoke up, his voice firm despite the worry in his eyes. "We need to find out what she's planning before it's too late."

"And stop her," Derek added, his voice low but determined.

Magnus turned to face the group, his expression serious. "If the sky looks like this, it's not just about us anymore. This is a warning. Whatever Lilith is doing, it's going to affect everyone, not just Shadowhunters or werewolves. We're all in danger."

Stiles tightened his grip on his journal, his mind racing. "We need answers. Fast."

Magnus nodded. "And reinforcements." He glanced at Alec. "I'm not taking any chances. Not after what she did to you and Max."

Dean stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "Well, looks like we've got ourselves a fight. Just tell us where to start."

As the group stood together, staring out at the blood-red sky, the gravity of the situation settled over them. They had faced threats before, but this felt different—bigger, darker, and more dangerous.

Stiles glanced at Derek, then back at the others. "Whatever happens next, we're not backing down. We're stopping this. Together."

The pack and the Shadowhunters nodded in unison, their differences momentarily set aside as they prepared for the battle ahead. The fight with Lilith wasn't over—not by a long shot. And they were running out of time.