Little Wolf (The Youngest Sequel)

Chapter deux

Scott and Stiles were walking up to the front of the school, Scott holding Kylie in his arms while Stiles recounted what had happened at the cemetery the previous night.

"So she ate the liver?" Scott asked, a grimace twisting his face at the thought.

"No," Stiles said quickly, shaking his head. "I didn't say she ate it. I just said it was missing." He paused, then shrugged. "And you know what? Even if she did, so what? It's the most nutritious part of the body."

Kylie smiled, resting her head against Scott's shoulder, and whispered softly, "Silly Stiles."

Scott looked at Stiles, frowning in disbelief. "I never ate anyone's liver—neither did Kylie," he said, shuddering slightly.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Scott. "Yeah, right, 'cause when it comes to werewolves, you're a real model of self-control." He gave Scott a pointed look, his sarcasm apparent. They continued walking in silence for a moment before Stiles stopped in his tracks. "Actually, wait—hold on," he said, his eyes lighting up with sudden realization. "You're the test case for all this. We should be going over what happened to you. Like, what was going through your mind when you were first turning? You know, what were you drawn to?"

Scott didn't miss a beat. "Allison," he answered, his voice sure.

Stiles blinked at him, his expression incredulous. "Okay, nothing else? Seriously?" he asked, clearly expecting more.

Scott shrugged, a small smile on his lips. "Nothing else mattered," he admitted, his eyes softening at the thought of Allison.

Stiles stared at him, then sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Of course," he muttered. "But no, that's good, though, right? 'Cause the night that Lydia got bit, she was with you. Maybe that means something."

Kylie looked up from her place in Scott's arms, her eyes curious as she listened to the conversation. She fiddled with a small charm on Scott's hoodie, her ears perking up at the change in Stiles' tone.

Stiles suddenly stiffened, his gaze caught on something ahead of them. Scott followed his line of sight and frowned. There, parked conspicuously in the school's parking lot, was a familiar car.

"Jackson," Stiles said, his voice low, his eyes narrowing.

Scott shifted Kylie in his arms, glancing between Stiles and the sleek Porsche. "What's he doing here?" he muttered, his brow furrowed.

Kylie looked over at the car, her little head tilting to the side. "Is he mad again?" she asked, her voice soft and unsure.

Stiles gave a small, dry laugh, shaking his head. "Who knows, kiddo," he said, ruffling Kylie's hair gently. "Jackson's always mad about something."

Scott exchanged a look with Stiles, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever Jackson was up to, it couldn't be good—and they needed to keep Kylie safe from any more drama.

Scott kissed the top of his sister's head, his gaze hardening as he looked back at the car. "Come on," he said, his voice resolute. "Let's figure this out."

In the locker room, Coach Finstock was calling for everyone's attention, his voice booming across the room.

"Listen up! I have an announcement! Gather round. Quicker! Danny, put a shirt on, for god's sake—there are kids in here!" He paused and gave Stiles a glare. "Stilinski, that means you! Let's go, gather round." He waited as everyone assembled together, his whistle bouncing around his neck.

Scott, Stiles, and Kylie stayed near the back, Kylie nestled comfortably in Scott's arms, watching the chaos unfold with curious eyes.

"All right, listen up," Coach began, waving his clipboard for emphasis. "Police are asking for help on a missing child advisory. It's a sick girl, roaming around, totally naked." That got a series of chuckles and a wolf-whistle from a few players, but Scott and Stiles exchanged worried glances.