The Hellhound's Mate

Angie's Return - Part 4

Scott sat across from Morrell, the faint hum of the office lights buzzing overhead. His hands were clasped tight, knuckles white, as he tried to make sense of everything—the battle at the mall, Boyd's death, the sacrifices, and most of all, Angie. His guidance officer was varying degrees of illuminating and infuriating.

Morrell's eyes were sharp, patient, and a little weary as she regarded him. "Scott," she said finally, voice low, "you need to understand what you're up against. Deucalion isn't just an alpha. He's a strategist. Every step you take, he's already ten ahead. And the thing is... he doesn't want to kill you. Not yet. He wants to break you."

Scott swallowed hard, the weight of it settling in his chest. "Break me?"

"Yes," Morrell said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "He wants you to kill. To force yourself into a corner where your potential as a true alpha—one who earns his power, who builds it instead of taking it—is compromised. He's playing you, Scott. And while you're trying to figure out your next move, he's already set the board. He's ten steps ahead with checkmate in sight, and you can't tell a bishop from a pawn."

Scott's brow furrowed. "Then... what do I do?"

Morrell leaned back, studying him for a long moment. "If we imagine the game as a board... if you and Deucalion are the kings, then Angie is –"

"The queen," he finished, following along the analogy.

Her eyes were piercing. "She's the most powerful piece. The piece he keeps close, the piece he manipulates. If you want to stop him, if you want to win, you have to rob him of that queen. You need to get Angie back. Back on your side. Back to herself."

Scott's chest tightened. He knew it was true, but the enormity of it pressed on him. Angie wasn't just trapped in Deucalion's influence—she was a weapon forged from obedience, loyalty, and terror.

And then, timing perfect in its cruel synchronicity, Stiles burst into the office, words tumbling over each other. He was desperate, raw, eyes wide with the kind of panic Scott had learned to recognise as danger. He'd been waiting outside for Scott and blatantly eavesdropping.

"You don't understand," Stiles blurted. "Deaton—he told me everything, everything about why Angie treated me like a stranger. Before becoming an alpha, Deucalion would have been the one to plunge his claws into the back of her neck, erase everything—our family, our life, everything she loved or knew. That's why she's so... obedient. So perfect for him. She doesn't know anything else. He moulded her into this... ideal alpha, like she's his pet."

Scott nodded slowly. He had suspected, especially after the way Isaac lost his memories about the bank vault and Boyd and Erica, but hearing it from Stiles made it visceral.

"The only way to get her memories back," Stiles continued, voice rising, "is to force them. To break that wall Deucalion built in her head. But it's not easy—it's agonising. She'll feel it, Scott. Every memory, every lost moment... It's going to hurt her. A lot. And that's if she survives. But she can. She will survive. I know she will!"

Morrell spoke softly, cutting through Stiles' urgency. "He's right about one thing. It can be done—but you need her strongest emotional anchors. Those who can reach her when Deucalion's shadow still grips her. That means Derek. That means you. That means her father. She needs the people who matter most to pull her back from the walls of her own mind."

Stiles's jaw clenched. "One problem with that. My dad doesn't believe in all of this. I tried to explain it to him – using a chessboard, actually – and he didn't believe me."

Scott could smell the heartbreak. He couldn't even imagine the kind of agony that Stiles had gone through trying to convince his father, after everything at the motel too.

"Stiles –" he began, but he was cut off from the cogs in Stiles' mind already turning.

"My dad won't believe me. Not unless he sees her. Not unless he sees what's happened. The only way... the only way he'll understand is if Angie is right in front of him."

Scott's eyes were steady now, focused. "Then that's what we'll do. We get her back. We bring her home. And we make sure that when she comes back, she's herself—not Deucalion's weapon, not his pawn, but Angie. She can also help us stop Deucalion."

"Stopping Deucalion helps stop the Darach," Stiles finished.

"Sounds like a plan."

Morrell's lips pressed into a thin line. "It won't be easy. But nothing worth saving ever is. Remember that, Scott. Stiles—your connection to her—it's her lifeline. And if you fail... if you hesitate... he wins. That's all he's waiting for."

Scott swallowed, the weight of it pressing on his chest, but he nodded. He would get Angie back. No matter what. No matter the pain. No matter how long it took.

"Then let's start," he said quietly. "We bring her back. Together."

The boys clasped hands, bringing each other in for a quick hug that told Scott all of the gratitude his friend felt for him.

********************************

Scott and Stiles approached Lydia after a late-night planning session, the girl standing at her locker as she swapped over books. "We need a favour," Stiles began, voice smooth but urgent.

Lydia's movements slowed as she didn't even turn to face them. "I know that tone. And I'm saying no."

Scott stepped closer. "Lydia... this isn't just any favour. It's about Angie. About getting her back."

Lydia hesitated, biting her lip. "You two are insane."

"No, listen," Stiles interjected, launching into the rapid-fire explanation only he could pull off. "It's simple: we get Aiden to send Angie a text, lure her to the bank. We need her there. Deaton said that while it's going to be risky, the telluric currents might help us bring back Angie's memories. You're convincing him, he convinces her, I convince Angie. Without you, none of this works. And yes, it's convoluted. But that's the point."

Lydia sighed, shaking her head but finally relenting. "Fine. I'll talk to Aiden. But if he disagrees—"

"He won't," Stiles said, grinning, though his stomach twisted with nerves. "He won't if it's you asking. That was the whole point of this."

Lydia slammed her locker closed as she sighed. "I already regret this."

As she walked off, Stiles dared to high-five Scott.

"We're gonna get her back, man. We're one step closer," he encouraged, and Stiles seemed to be able to breathe a little steadier.