The Wiccan Protocol

In which, happy and well-adjusted just doesn't last in Beacon Hills:

Ophelia Connor had a simple plan for senior year: swim fast, tolerate her best friend's bullshit, and drink enough overpriced coffee to survive high school.

Then came the nightmares. The whispers in her family's old house. The nagging feeling that something was watching her.

And then-because the universe is a petty bitch-she found out she's a witch.

Fine. Whatever. She can roll with it. She's always looked good in a hat.

But when a hulking, red-eyed motherfucker comes tearing down the street like it just escaped from a horror movie cliché convention? Yeah, that's a hard no.

And if Derek Hale-broody, leather-clad, and clearly drowning in supernatural bullshit-thinks she's about to get involved? He can fuck right off.

Ophelia didn't ask for this. But in Beacon Hills, nobody gets a goddamn choice.

《Derek Hale》