Amelia 'Mia' Argent has been raised to fear the supernatural. Coming from a long lineage of werewolf hunters, she is being trained to hunt and one day become the leader of her team. But when her family moves to Beacon Hills in search for an Alpha, t...
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School was going slow. Mia felt a strange feeling of restlessness, going through the motions. Her gut was telling her that something wasn't right. In the end, she chalked it up to stress, because at a time like this, her instincts were bound to be going crazy.
After her class ended, she left the classroom and made her way straight to the bathrooms, hoping to hide out from her English teacher, who was trying to hunt her down all day.
"Miss Argent!" speaking of the devil, Mrs. Wayne was calling her name from the other end of the hallway.
Mia sighed. She knew she couldn't hide forever. She walked up to Mrs. Wayne, preparing for the worst.
"I know my essay was bad," she said, hoping to get straight to the point, "But so were a ton of other people's. I don't understand why I have to rewrite it."
"Because it's unlike you, Mia," Mrs. Wayne replied, an awfully empathetic expression on her face. She started her usual speech about wasted potential. Mia zoned her out, noticing that the halls were starting to get empty. Class was about to start.
"I understand," she said with a polite smile, "I'll do better next time."
"Mia–" the teacher stopped her, "At least go over your mistakes with me."
She clenched her jaw, trying not to look as frustrated as she was. She glanced around the hallway for a way out, an excuse of some kind, but there was nothing. However, her eyes caught on an all-black dressed figure, who looked awfully like Derek.
You've gotta be kidding me.
"Mia?"
"Uh," she stuttered, shaking her head to focus again, "Yeah, okay. I just, uh, I have to get to my locker first."
"I want you in my class in five minutes."
"Of course," she was already walking away, beelining straight for the lockers where Derek was standing.
"Oh, and by the way, whatever it is you're selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise," her eyes landed on Jackson, who was face to face with Derek, "You look wrecked."
Mia stopped dead in her tracks, processing the scene for a second. Derek did look wrecked - he was even paler than she'd seen him before, forehead dotted with cold sweat. She could see him shivering from where she was standing, and he seemed to sway a little, like he was light-headed.
"I'll find him myself," Derek muttered, walking away.
Jackson grabbed his shoulder, "No, we're not done here–"
He couldn't finish his sentence. Derek twisted the arm that was on his shoulder and slammed Jackson against the lockers, his other hand on the boy's neck. Jackson cried out in pain.
"Hey!" she rushed over to them, "Derek, what the fuck?"
Derek snapped out of his rage at the sound of her voice. He let go of Jackson's neck. There were holes on the boy's neck, where Derek's fingers had been. With a start, Mia realized that his hands had turned into claws. The situation was getting out of hand.
