Explanations

// This is almost 10k words for a chapter soooo sorry in advance//

I woke up with a start, gasping for air as my heart hammered in my chest. The remnants of the nightmare still clung to me, like shadows that refused to let go. The Alpha Pack had been closing in on me, Deucalian in the lead with his cold words and lethal truths. But the worst part was the voice, the Darach's voice, smooth and insistent, just like it had been at the motel whispering in my ear.

"You don't have to fight anymore, Cassandra. If you give yourself up... you can protect the people you love. Come, find me. I will ease your fears. We will protect your friends and kill the alpha pack once and for all."

The words echoed in my head, over and over again, like an ominous lullaby I couldn't shake. I tried to tell myself it was just a dream, but it didn't help. I could almost feel the weight of the decision, the unbearable pressure, even though I knew deep down I couldn't give in. But what if they were right? What if the only way to save everyone I cared about was to surrender?

I was shaking now, the fear and panic making it hard to breathe. My chest felt tight, and before I knew it, my breathing became shallow, frantic. It had not happened in so long. Since all this began. My hands trembled as I grabbed the blankets, tugging them tight around me, but it wasn't enough to ward off the panic creeping in.

I needed to talk to someone. I needed Stiles.

My fingers fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, and in a flurry of desperation, I dialed his number. The phone barely rang twice before he picked up, his voice groggy but immediately alert.

"Hey, Cass? What's up?"

"Stiles," I gasped, my breath hitching. "I- I can't... I can't breathe. I... I had a nightmare. It's... It's the darach, and from the motel. What they said. I can't."

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then, just like that, his voice softened, his usual teasing tone replaced with something more serious, more gentle. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay. I'm coming over, alright? Just breathe, okay? In and out. I'll be there in five minutes."

I didn't even have the strength to reply. I just held the phone to my ear and tried to follow his instructions. In. Out. In. Out. But it wasn't helping. The panic was suffocating.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door, soft at first, then more insistent when I didn't respond. Finally I heard him turn the key and race up to my room. He flung open my bedroom door, his eyes wide with concern. His hair was a mess, and he still had on his pajama pants, but he didn't seem to care. He just stepped inside and pulled me into a hug before I could even say anything.

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe. You're safe now," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

I clung to him, feeling the panic start to fade just a little as I inhaled the comforting scent of him-something like mint and the faintest trace of his cologne. His arms were warm around me, his hands gently rubbing up and down my back, grounding me in the moment.

"I'm here, Cassie. You're not alone," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. His face was inches from mine, and I could see the concern etched there, his warm eyes scanning over me. I'm sure I looked like a mess, tears streaking down my face.

I blinked at him, still trying to catch my breath, and then let out a shaky laugh, the sound too close to a sob. "You're not even wearing a shirt," I said, the tension in my chest easing just a little.

Stiles grinned, his usual mischievousness creeping back into his expression. "Well, it's what I had on when I heard 'emergency,' and I'm not about to waste time getting fully dressed when you're sobbing on the phone"

That stupid grin of his, the one I always teased him about, was exactly what I needed. My fingers found their way to his skin, the act of touching him grounding me even more.

"Thanks," I whispered, my voice small but sincere.

He shrugged, still holding me close. "What are best friends for if not showing up at midnight in pajama pants to calm you down after a nightmare?"

I pulled back slightly, wiping my face, embarrassed by how weak I felt. "I'm sorry. I just, what the Darach is saying. It - It makes sense."

He looked at me, confused, his brow furrowing slightly as if he wasn't sure what I meant. "What do you mean it makes sense? Cass, the Darach is a manipulator. He wants you to believe that giving up is the way to save everyone, but it's not. It's never the answer."

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog in my mind. "But she's right, Stiles. If I just" I choked on the words, unable to finish the thought.

Stiles gently cupped my face, making me look at him. His eyes were soft but firm, like he was trying to remind me who I was. "No. No, Cass. Giving yourself up, sacrificing yourself, it's not going to save anyone. It'll destroy you. And it'll destroy the people who love you, who need you."

I shook my head, tears threatening to fall again. "I feel like I'm running out of options. The Alpha Pack is stronger than us, Stiles. I am this key piece in the puzzle, both sides want me. To protect Scott, you? If I could make it stop, end the war? Wouldn't you?" I paused, my voice catching. "I can't just sit back and wait for them to hurt everyone else."

Stiles let out a slow breath, his hand still resting against my cheek. "I get it. I do, I would consider it too. But you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. We fight together. That's how we figure this out. We've always figured it out together."

I swallowed, my breath steadying as I met his gaze. "But if I give myself up, if I let him take me... everyone else will be safe. I could protect them all."

"No," Stiles said, his voice soft but resolute. "That's not protection, Cassie. That's giving in. You're so much stronger than that. And the people you love? They need you, I need you, not a sacrifice." The conviction in his voice when he said I need you made my heart stutter. I looked up at him, searching his eyes.

My breath steadied. Maybe it was the way Stiles was looking at me, his eyes full of trust and comfort. Maybe it was the way he held me, like I was the most important thing in the world.

I took a shaky breath, finally nodding. "Okay."

Stiles smiled, the tension in his face easing as he pulled me into another hug. "That's my girl."

I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin under my cheek. A small smile tugged at my lips. "Just... stay with me for a little while longer?"

Stiles smiled back, his eyes soft with affection. "Always."

-----☾-----

A phone ringing pulled me from sleep. I felt warm and safe, Stiles arms holding me against his chest. I fumbled for my phone, looking at the message. I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I gently shook Stiles.

"We gotta go, Lydia thinks she found another body." I said. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I have some of your clothes here, I'll lay them on the bed okay?" He just nodded. I slid out of bed, immediately missing the warmth of Stiles. I grabbed a pair of his sweats alongside a shirt and a flannel.

I headed into the bathroom, washing my face and pulling on a pair of jeans and a black long sleeve. I just tied my hair back into a bun, not wanting to deal with it. I came back out to Stiles pulling on his shirt.

"You good to drive?" I asked, he nodded.

-----☾-----

Stiles was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. I knew better than to say anything. We pulled into the parking lot, the school looking normal-like it always did in the early morning, before the halls filled with voices and footsteps. Except something was off.

I felt it before I saw anything. A creeping, sinking feeling in my stomach. Like something was wrong.

As soon as Stiles threw the Jeep into park, he was out of the car. I barely had time to shove the door open before he was already storming toward Lydia and Allison, who stood near the entrance.

"Where is she?" he asked.

Allison barely had to lift a hand before Lydia spoke.

"It's the same thing, the same thing as the pool. I got into my car heading somewhere totally different, and I ended up here."

I shot Stiles a glance. Not good. Lydia's voice was a little unsteady when she added, "And you told me to call you if there was a dead body."

I felt something twist inside me.

Stiles went still. "You found a dead body?"

Lydia shifted. "Not yet..."

I sucked in a sharp breath. "'Not yet?' What does that mean?"

Stiles groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body."

Lydia scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Oh, no. I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body from now on."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Great. Sounds like a super fun game."

Before any of us could say anything else, Scott's voice cut through the air.

"Guys...?"

I turned just as he stepped back from something near the edge of the parking lot, near the high school sign. His voice was quiet, heavy.

"I found the dead body."

-----☾-----

The flashing red and blue lights from the sheriff's cruisers bathed the pavement in pulses of color. A crowd of students had gathered near the school entrance, their voices hushed, eyes flicking nervously toward the taped-off section of the parking lot.

I stood next to Stiles, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, stomach twisting in knots.

Another body. Another sacrifice. The weight of it pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.

Sheriff Stilinski was striding toward us, his face a mask of exhaustion and authority.

"Excuse me! Hey! Hey, hey, hey-back it up!" he called, motioning for everyone to move further away.

Stiles didn't budge. Neither did I.

The sheriff's gaze landed on us, narrowing slightly. "I know what you're thinking. I know you've got all these ideas about patterns and people dying in threes-"

Stiles cut him off sharply. "Dad, murdered, okay? Sacrificed, actually!"

His voice was raw, on the edge of breaking. I felt something crack inside my chest just hearing it.

Sheriff Stilinski's face softened, just slightly, as he let out a tired sigh. "I've got half the state, including the FBI, coming in on this. They're not getting away with killing one of our own."

I swallowed hard. One of our own.

Tara.

She wasn't just some random victim. She had been here. She had existed in our lives, chatting with Stiles and I at the station, always asking me about school.

And now she was gone. Stiles' voice cut through the thick silence.

"Dad, they killed Tara. Tara, who helped me with my math homework more times than I can count" The way he said it-like it physically hurt him to say it-I had to look away.

His dad hesitated before shaking his head.

"Just... get to class, okay?" I didn't move. Neither did Stiles.

-----☾-----

Jennifer paced at the front of the room, gesturing to the board as she spoke. "Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes... All tools the writer uses to tell their story."

I barely listened, my pen tapping mindlessly against my notebook. Across the room, Lydia was zoning out, her fingers absently doodling something in the margins of her paper.

Jennifer's voice wavered slightly as she noticed. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents...?"

Lydia barely looked up, smirking. "You and every guy I've ever dated."

Jennifer cleared her throat, clearly thrown. "Oh. Um, well, that was an idiom, by the way..." She recovered quickly, forcing a small smile. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race. Or a phrase like, 'seeing the whole board...'"

"Like chess," Stiles muttered.

Jennifer nodded. "That's right, Stiles. Do you play?"

He shrugged. "Uh, no. My father does."

Jennifer smiled awkwardly before continuing. "Now, when does an idiom become a cliché...?"

I barely heard her. My focus had shifted to Scott, who leaned toward Stiles and me, speaking low enough that only we could hear.

"I think I can get to Ethan. I'm pretty sure I can make him talk."

Stiles frowned. "What do you wanna do that for?"

"The Druids are Emissaries, right? So, what if the Darach was an Emissary to the Alphas?"

Stiles let out a sharp exhale. "Okay, first of all, I cannot believe we've gotten to the point where a sentence like, 'What if the Darach was an Emissary to the Alphas?' actually makes sense to me."

I smirked at that, but Scott ignored him.

"Second of all," Stiles continued, "we're gonna have a huge problem getting to Ethan."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Stiles pointed subtly across the room. "Going through Aiden."

I rolled my eyes, leaning forward. "Lydia can get to Aiden."

Stiles blinked at me. "What makes you say that?"

I smirked slightly. "Because Aiden's been looking at her like a lovesick puppy since the first day of school."

Stiles sighed, rubbing his temple. "Great. Another terrible idea that just might work."

-----☾-----

Scott and I stood next to Stiles as he faced Ethan. The Alpha didn't look particularly pleased to see us.

"Why are you even talking to me?" Ethan asked, his voice flat. "I helped kill your friend. How do you know I'm not gonna kill another one?" I stiffened slightly at that, feeling my stomach turn. Stiles, however, scoffed, his arms crossing.

"Is he looking at me?" he muttered.

I shot him a look. "Stiles."

"What? Are you threatening me?" he shot back at Ethan. "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to break off an extra-large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe, and shove it up your freaking-"

"Whoa, Stiles!" Scott interrupted, eyes wide. "Okay, we get it." Stiles huffed, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, I reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze..

Scott turned his attention back to Ethan. "We're talking to you because I know that you didn't want to kill Boyd. And I think that if something like that happened now, you wouldn't do it again."

For a moment, Ethan hesitated. His jaw clenched before he finally spoke.

"You don't know what we owe them-especially Deucalion. We weren't like Kali and Ennis when we met him. We weren't Alphas."

Scott frowned. "What were you?"

Ethan looked away. "...Omegas. In actual wolf packs," Ethan continued, "Omegas are the scapegoats-the last to eat, the ones who have to take the abuse from the rest of the pack."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "So, you and your brother were, like, the bitches of the pack?"

Ethan shot him a flat look. "Something like that."

Scott's voice softened. "What happened?"

Ethan exhaled. "They were killers. I mean, people talk about us as monsters. Well, they were the ones who gave us the reputation... And our Alpha was the worst of them."

I felt something cold creep up my spine.

"Why didn't you just fight back?" Stiles asked. "Form Voltron-Wolf, you know? Kick everyone's asses?"

Ethan's expression darkened. "We couldn't. We didn't know how to control it back then."

"Deucalion taught you," I guessed.

Ethan nodded. "And then, we fought. We took down the whole pack, one by one. And by the time we got to our Alpha, he was begging for his life." I swallowed. "And we tore him apart," Ethan finished. "Literally."

The weight of those words settled over us, but Scott barely hesitated before pushing forward.

"What about your Emissary?"

Ethan shook his head. "They're all dead. Kali and Ennis' too. All of them except for Deucalion's," Ethan added.

Stiles' eyebrows furrowed. "You mean Morrell?"

Before Ethan could answer, he suddenly staggered, groaning in pain.

Scott moved forward quickly. "What? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Ethan shook his head. "Not me-my brother."

I swore under my breath, and we took off towards the locker room.

-----☾-----

Cora's scream sent my stomach dropping. I turned the corner just in time to see Aiden slam a weight into her head. I didn't think, I just moved.

"Get off her!" I snapped, already stepping forward. A hand clamped around my wrist, stopping me before I could charge.

"Cassie, don't!" Stiles hissed.

"Aiden, stop! Stop! Stop!" Lydia shouted again, trying to yank him back with both hands.

Across from us, Ethan shoved at his brother. "You can't do this!"

"She came at me!" Aiden growled.

"It doesn't matter!" Ethan snapped. "Kali gave Derek until the next full moon. You can't touch him or her."

Aiden finally backed off, and I was at Cora's side in an instant. I dropped to my knees, gripping her wrist, my eyes scanning over the bruises forming across her skin, the blood smeared at her temple.

"Cora?" I said urgently. "Hey, look at me."

She winced, blinking rapidly. "I'm fine."

Lydia frowned, crossing her arms. "She doesn't look okay..."

Cora glared at her. "I'll heal."

I squeezed her wrist, searching her face. "You better." I moved to help her to her feet, but she swayed the second I let go.

"Uh... oh." Stiles hesitated, watching us.

"I said, I'm fine," Cora snapped, voice sharp. I sighed, biting my tongue. I knew better than to argue with her, at least not here.

"Do you realize how suicidally crazy that was?" Stiles asked, stepping forward. "What were you thinking, going after them?"

Cora's jaw tensed. "I did it for Boyd! None of you were doing anything."

Scott lifted his hands, trying to calm her. "We're trying"

"And you're failing," she snapped. "You're just a bunch of stupid teenagers, running around, thinking that you can stop people from getting killed. But all you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies."

Her words hit me hard, like she had physically swung at me.

I reached for her again, my fingers pressing against her forearm. "This is not the place or time for this fight," I said softly.

She scoffed, looking away, but didn't pull back.

"She's definitely a Hale..." Stiles muttered under his breath. Then he sighed. "I'll make sure she gets home."

I narrowed my eyes. "She's coming with me."

Stiles blinked. "Oh. Uh, okay."

I slipped my arm under Cora's, helping stabilize her. She leaned into me slightly, just for a second. That was how I knew she trusted me.

-----☾-----

The drive was tense, Stiles in the front, his phone on speaker. "Philosophers?" he asked.

Allison's voice crackled through the speaker. "And guardians... Which, after last night, has to mean something, like, law enforcement, right?"

My stomach twisted. Guardians. Maybe what the Darach said had more meaning than I thought. I swallowed, trying to smooth my features.

"Stiles, you have to tell your dad." Allison's voice cut through my thoughts. "Tell him whatever you need, but you have to get him to believe. Tell your dad. Warn him."

Stiles exhaled sharply. "Okay, okay, okay. I know."

He ended the call and turned to me. "What are you gonna do?" I asked. His eyes flicked to Cora.

"I need her," he said.

Cora frowned. "For what?"

"My dad." Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "He's not going to believe me. But if you show him... I think he might."

Cora crossed her arms, skeptical. "You want me to just flash my glowing eyes at him and expect him to be cool with it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

I looked between them, then reached back to touch her leg. "You trust me, right?" She sighed, then nodded. I squeezed her shoulder. "Then trust Stiles."

She groaned. "Fine."

Stiles let out a breath of relief. "Thank you." He hesitated, glancing at me. "And you?"

I gave him a small smile. "You think I'd let you do this alone?"

His lips quirked up slightly. "No, I don't."

-----☾☼-----

Scott stood in the dimly lit hall of Beacon Hills High, his fists clenched, eyes fixed on Mrs. Morrell.

"Why are you bothering with me, Scott," Mrs. Morrell asked, her voice a little too calm, "when you know the clock is ticking? When you know someone else is about to be taken?"

Scott swallowed, his mind racing. "By you," he replied, the frustration clear in his voice.

Mrs. Morrell scoffed, crossing her arms with a small, exasperated shake of her head. "Come on, Scott. Shouldn't you leave the interrogation to someone like Stilinski?"

Scott's jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "Are you the one killing people?"

"Are you listening to my heartbeat?" she responded with a mockingly sweet tone. "No. I'm not the one killing people," she continued, her voice losing the edge of sarcasm. "Truth is, I'm all that stands between Deucalion and the lives of your friends. I've been the one pulling the leash taut when they're salivating for a bite."

Scott was momentarily stunned by the weight of her words. "What do you mean?"

Mrs. Morrell's eyes softened, but her gaze remained sharp, knowing. "He wants a True Alpha in his pack. He thinks it's you. And a little distraction like a few human sacrifices isn't gonna dissuade him from the prize."

"I'm not an Alpha," Scott said, the words almost a question, but he was resolute.

"But you're well on your way, aren't you?" she countered, her tone probing.

Scott shifted uncomfortably. "Then what is he waiting for? What does he want me to do?"

Mrs. Morrell's gaze hardened as she took a step closer, her voice lowering. "He wants to make a killer out of you. That's what he does."

Scott's heart sank, his breath catching. "But, if I kill someone, I can't be a True Alpha, right?"

"Exactly," she confirmed, her words chilling. Scott exhaled slowly, trying to process what she was saying. Mrs. Morrell's gaze softened slightly. "You want the psychologist's perspective?" she asked, almost to herself. "He's an obsessive who both desires you and is threatened by you. If the obsessive can't have the object of his desire, he'll choose to destroy it instead."

Scott's throat tightened, and his mind instantly thought of Cassie. "So what does that mean for her?" His voice cracked slightly, betraying the concern he was trying to suppress. "Cass' been caught in this too... She's in this mess because of me, because of everything Deucalion wants, what Peter wanted."

Mrs. Morrell gave him a long, measuring look before answering. "It means Cassie is a pawn in his game as much as you are. She's trying to protect everyone, to keep everyone safe from the Alpha Pack, but she's been led to believe that she has to sacrifice herself for it all to end. Deucalion wants her to think that. It's a way to manipulate her into making a choice that could destroy her, all while keeping his sights on you and keeping her out of the picture."

Scott clenched his fists, his frustration building once again. "I'm not going to let that happen. Neither of us are going to fall into his trap. Cass, she's stronger than that."

Mrs. Morrell nodded, her face unreadable. "She is. But you both need to realize, Scott... you're playing his game. You're both playing by his rules without even realizing it. While you're trying to figure out what to do next, he's thinking ten moves ahead with checkmate already in sight."

"You're not the only one who's trying to keep her from making a choice that could destroy her," Mrs. Morrell said quietly, almost as if she was reminding him. "But it's a matter of when she sees it for herself, Scott. You can't do it all for her."

-----☾-----

Stiles was panicking. I could see it in the way his fingers tapped frantically against his leg, the way his knee bounced like a jackhammer against the floor. His dad was staring at him, waiting, impatiently tapping his fingers against the table.

"Okay, okay, okay..." Stiles muttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair. "Yes! Okay. Nooo, oh..."

"Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski's voice was sharp with impatience.

"Dad, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just... I'm trying to... I'm just trying to figure out how to start, here..." Stiles stammered, glancing between me and Cora for some kind of reassurance.

I gave him a look that said just spit it out already.

"Hey, I don't have this kind of time," the Sheriff grumbled.

"Um... for the last year, you've had all these cases that you couldn't figure out, right?" Stiles started, voice picking up speed. "I mean, all the murders involving Kate Argent, and then Matt killing all the people that drowned him, and all these murders right now! It's like-It's like you've been playing a losing game."

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Stiles, the last thing I need right now is a job performance review from my own son-"

"I know, okay? But that's just it, Dad." Stiles cut him off, eyes desperate. "The reason that you're losing the game is 'cause you've never been able to see the whole board!"

He turned to me and Cora before taking a deep breath.

"I need to show you the whole board."

-----☾-----

I could see it on Sheriff Stilinski's face-the exact moment he stopped thinking this was some elaborate joke and realized that, yeah, his son was actually serious.

"Scott and Derek are Werewolves?" he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief.

Stiles grinned like an excited puppy. "Yes!"

"And Kate Argent was a Werewolf?"

I winced. "Hunter," I corrected. "That's-purple's 'Hunter.'"

"Along with Allison and her father," Cora added, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

The Sheriff looked between the two of us, his expression unreadable. "Yeah," he muttered before turning back to the scattered sticky notes on the chessboard.

"And... and my friend Deaton, the veterinarian, is a Kanima?"

Stiles snorted. "No, no, no. He's a Druid." He paused, then shrugged. "Well, we think."

Sheriff Stilinski's brows furrowed. "So who's the Kanima?"

"Jackson," Stiles and I said at the same time.

The Sheriff blinked. "No, Jackson's a Werewolf."

"He was a Kanima first," Stiles explained, waving his hands dramatically. "And then Peter and Derek killed him, and he came back to life as a Werewolf. Now he's in London..."

Sheriff Stilinski pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "Who's the Darack?"

"It's Darach," Stiles corrected.

Cora rolled her eyes. "We don't know yet."

"We don't know yet," Stiles echoed, nodding.

The Sheriff took another deep breath. "But he was killed by Werewolves?"

I hesitated. "Slashed up and left for dead," I said.

Cora frowned. "We think."

"We think," Stiles repeated.

There was a long pause before the Sheriff asked, "Why was Jackson the Kanima?"

I glanced at Stiles. He sighed. "Because sometimes, the shape that you take reflects the person that you are."

Sheriff Stilinski's eyes darkened. "And what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier-by-the-second father take?"

Stiles gulped. "Uh, that would be more of an expression like the one you're currently wearing..."

"Yeah."

"Dad, would you" Stiles started, but the Sheriff held up a hand.

"Stiles," he warned. "That's enough."

"Dad, can you please just hold on?" Stiles pleaded, turning toward Cora. "You ready?"

Cora sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with-"

She stood, and then suddenly, her legs buckled.

"Cora?" I reached for her, catching her before she could hit the floor. Her skin was burning hot, her breathing ragged. "Cora, what's wrong?" I demanded, panic flaring in my chest.

"Cora-" Stiles started, but the Sheriff was already moving.

"Call an ambulance," he ordered.

Stiles froze. "What?"

"Now!" The Sheriff snapped.

Stiles fumbled for his phone, but all I could focus on was Cora-her shallow breathing, the way her body trembled against mine.

-----☾-----

I paced outside the hospital room with Stiles, Scott on the phone. "It's philosophers, as in teachers. Allison and her father just found Mr. Westover." Scott explain. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. I was already a bumble of anxiety because of Cora, and the panic wasn't subsiding.

"That makes sense. Tara, she wasn't always a cop-- she used to teach middle school." Stiles said

"Then the last one's gonna be another teacher." I murmured, looking at Stiles.

"Yeah, but there's dozens of them, guys, and they're all headed home." Stiles said.

Scott hesitated. "No... No, they're not. They're all going to the recital."

The Sheriff came out of the room, rubbing his face like he was exhausted. Stiles pulled him towards us, desperation on his face. "What did you see the night at the bank, when Scott was trying to save Deaton?" Stiles pressed.

"Nothing."

"Dad, you saw him healing himself after he tried crossing the mountain ash..."

"I don't know what I saw–"

I gently cut in. "You saw something that you can't explain. We're trying to give you an explanation."

"Kids, I have seen a lot of things I can't explain in this town. That doesn't make 'em supernatural, and it doesn't make 'em real. They just found another body. That's real-- and that's the lead I'm following."

"Yeah, and another teacher's going to die if you don't start listening to me–" Stiles huffed

The Sheriff interrupted him, his voice loud. "I am listening! I have been listening!"

Stiles went quiet. "You just don't believe." I gently reached for his hand but he shrugged me off. "Mom would've believed me." He said finally before walking off.

I could see the heartbreak on his dads face as I turned to him. I swallowed. "Go do your job. I'll take care of him. I promise." he just sighed and turned away, leaving me to run after Stiles.

Stiles was already in the jeep, and I climbed in. I didn't mention what he said, just turned to him. "Come on, let's get to the school."

-----☾-----

I split from Stiles at the school, him going to find Scott and me going to find Lydia. I found her in the hall, staring at her phone.

"Lyd? What's up?" I said, coming up beside her.

"Aiden told me to meet him in the English classroom." She said quietly. I hummed noncommittally, before shrugging.

"I'll come with you." I said finally and we made our way towards the room. I pushed the door open, looking around. "Are you sure he said English, nobody is here?" I said, turning to face Lydia. Before I could do that, a sharp pain struck the side of my head, and everything went dark.

-----☾☼-----

Scott and Stiles were racing down the halls, trying to find their friends. "Cass? Lydia?" Stiles yelled.

Scott looked at him. "Anything?" Stiles shook his head, looking down at his phone. "Neither of them are answering texts. What do we do?" Scott seemed to freeze. "Scott?"

-----☾-----

I woke up bound to a chair, blood dripping down the side of my face. I tried to blink quickly and reorient myself. Mrs. Blake was standing in front of me, and Lydia beside me. I could barely reach her hand with mine, just able to intertwine our pinkies before I turned back to Jennifer.

"You recognize it, don't you?" She asked me, raising a brow. I just clenched my jaw shut. I needed a plan, something to get me and Lydia out here alive. I couldn't reach my knives or phone, and the bindings were too tight for me to break.

"What are you doing?" Lydia asked weakly.

"What's necessary. I'm still surprised none of you seem to get that. You call them "sacrifices," but you're not understanding the word. It's derived from the Latin sacrificium, an offering to a deity; a sacred rite." She paused looking at me. "A necessary evil."

She smiled. "Cassandra knows all about sacrifices, doesn't she?" She said calmly, and the horrible voice that had been haunting my dreams and head since the motel was suddenly standing in front of me. "Now, she has a chance to decide again if she's willing to be the sacrifice or if three innocent people will."

"Stop." Lydia repeated, and I could tell she was getting more scared.

"Oh, I wish I could... But you don't know the Alphas like I do." Jennifer said, moving behind Lydia, the garrotte in hand.

"No- No. I'll do it, Ill be the sacrifice, just let lydia go. Please." I begged, straining against my bonds.

"I appreciate the sentiment Cassandra, truly. I'll circle back to you later. But you, Lydia? You're not a sacrifice. You're just a girl who knows too much." She paused, as if thinking. "Actually, a girl who knew too much."

Before she could tighten the garotte, Lydia opened her mouth, a piercing scream echoing through the school. I flinched, the sound ringing in my ears.

Jennifer froze, the cord still around Lydia's neck but not pulled taut. "Unbelievable! You have no idea what you are, do you? The Wailing Woman. A Banshee, right before my eyes." She let out a hollow sound that was almost a laugh. "You're just like me, Lydia-- 'Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.'"

She sighed. "It's too bad, though... And too late."

"No!" I screamed, just as the door swung open, Sheriff Stilinski standing the the frame, his gun pointed at her.

"Drop it!" He yelled, and Jennifer just looked at him. "There was a girl... Years ago, we found her in the woods, her face and body slashed apart. That was you, wasn't it?" He said, as if to placate her. I knew it wouldn't work.

She just lunged, knocking the sheriff off his feat. "Maybe I should've started with philosophers-- with knowledge and strategy."

I could hear Scott and Stiles pounding on the door and the Sheriff tried to grab him gun again.

"Healers..." Scott broke through the door.

"Warriors..." He knocked Jennifer aside, but she didn't seem to slow.

"Virgins..." Her hand grabbed the sheriff's collar. She looked at me, a grin on her lips.

"I'll be back for you little guardian." She said, before she and the sheriff disappeared.

Stiles burst through the door finally, his eyes wide with shock. "Dad?" I was in a state of horror, my eyes on where the Sheriff had just stood. Scott moved to untie Lydie and then me, Stiles just standing and staring in the middle of the room. I gently moved towards him once Scott freed me, pulling him into a hug. He broke down in tears, his hand gripping the crumpled Sheriff's badge Jennifer had left behind.

Chapter 41

Jennifer was already calling for Derek the second she burst through the door, her voice shaking, but not from fear-from performance.

"Derek? Derek, where are you?"

I stood in the shadows, arms crossed, every muscle in my body coiled so tightly I thought I might snap. She was good, I'd give her that. If I hadn't been there when she wrapped her hands around my throat, trying to choke the life out of me, I might've believed the breathless urgency in her voice.

But I had been there. And I remembered every second of it.

"Right here." Derek's voice was calm, measured. The complete opposite of what was brewing under his skin.

Jennifer practically threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his waist in a desperate grip. I saw Derek stiffen, his hands hovering awkwardly over her back. His fingers twitched.

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.

"Thank God," she breathed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "Something happened at the recital, at the school, okay? I need to tell you before you hear it- before you hear it from any of them." My fingers curled into fists.

"From who?" Derek asked, voice clipped.

Jennifer hesitated for a fraction of a second. She was calculating, searching for the right words, the right expression to get him to believe her. "Scott, Stiles, Cassandra... They're gonna tell you things-things you can't believe," Jennifer continued. "You have to trust me, okay? You trust me."

Derek's jaw ticked. "What is it?"

Jennifer stepped back slightly, shoulders stiff. "Promise you'll listen to me."

Derek's hands curled into fists at his sides. "I promise."

Jennifer exhaled, as if she'd been holding her breath, but I saw the way her fingers tensed around her bag strap. "...They're already here, aren't they?"

Scott and Stiles stepped into view from behind one of the loft's pillars. I slid slightly out of the shadows on the other side, effectively boxing her in.

Jennifer turned, and for a moment, I could see the cracks forming in her expression. She knew I was her biggest threat, that Derek trusted me the most.

"So, they told you it was me?" she asked, voice smooth, but I could hear the forced steadiness in it. "That I'm the one taking people?"

"We told him you're the one killing people," Scott corrected, voice flat.

Jennifer scoffed, shaking her head. "Oh, that's right. Committing human sacrifices? What, cutting their throats? Yeah, I probably do it on my lunch hour-that way, I can get back to teaching high school English the rest of the day. Makes perfect sense."

I let out a slow, controlled breath through my nose.

"Where's my dad?" Stiles' voice cracked, eyes cold but i could see the faint gleam of tears in his water line

Jennifer barely glanced at him. "How should I know?"

Wrong answer.

Derek took a step forward. "Do you know what happened to Stiles' father?"

Jennifer shook her head, forcing a confused frown. "No!"

Scott's voice cut through the tension. "Ask her why she almost killed Lydia."

Jennifer's eyes snapped to him. "Lydia Martin? I don't know anything about that!"

And that was it. That was the moment I couldn't hold back anymore.

I stepped forward, voice cold as ice. "Then what about me?"

Jennifer's head whipped around so fast it was almost comical.

I saw it again-that flicker of something behind her eyes. Fear of knowing exactly what I meant and what I could do.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, voice almost bored.

I felt my fingers twitch. "You hitting me in the back of the head," I said, barely above a whisper. "Telling me to make my choice of sacrificing myself for my friends. Still going to kill Lydia when I said I'd do it. Promising you'd come back for me." My voice stayed low, my eyes trained on her.

Derek turned to Jennifer so fast she actually took a step back.

"Is that true?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

Jennifer's lips parted, but no words came out.

Scott pulled a small jar from his pocket and held it up. The moment Jennifer's eyes landed on it, she paled.

"What if we can prove it?"

Jennifer exhaled sharply. "What is that?"

Scott unscrewed the lid. "My boss told me it's a poison and a cure... which means you can use it... and it can be used against you."

Jennifer took another step back. "Mistletoe?"

Scott threw the dust into the air, sending it straight at her. The illusion broke.

For a split second, she was exposed. Scarred. Twisted. A monster.

And then Derek was on her.

His hand wrapped around her throat, claws pressing into her skin as he lifted her off the ground. Jennifer gasped, clawing at his wrist.

"Derek, wait! WAIT!" Stiles yelled, lunging forward but was held back by Scott.

Derek's grip tightened. "What are you?"

Jennifer choked. "The only person who can save your sister." I sucked in a breath, stomach twisting. Cora.

"Derek" Scott started.

Jennifer's voice rasped out, "Call Peter... Call him!" Derek hesitated. I dialed him, his voice coming through my speaker for the room to hear.

"It's not good. She's in and out of consciousness, vomiting up black blood, along with one other alarming substance..."

Derek's voice was stone. "Mistletoe."

Peter was silent for half a second before his voice sharpened. "How did you know that?"

Derek didn't answer, I murmured a quiet I'll explain later, eyes on Derek as he squeezed harder.

Jennifer's face was turning red, her gasps becoming weaker.

I wanted to let him do it. But there were other lives at stake.

"Derek! DEREK!" my voice echoed through the silent loft.

Derek's grip faltered. Jennifer's body sagged, barely able to keep herself upright as she hit the ground, gasping for air. She was silent, and then she laughed. A quiet, breathy chuckle, that sent white hot rage tearing through me.

She looked up at us, smiling weakly.

"Cora, you need me to save her. Stilinski, you'll never find him without me." I gave him the tiniest nod, telling him we had to keep her alive, for now.

"That's right," she whispered. "You need me, all of you."

-----☾-----

Jennifer's voice was calm, controlled. She was still playing the game, still trying to get into Derek's head.

"You should know, I'm not doing this because I have to- I want to."

Derek's grip tightened on the wheel, his eyes locked straight ahead. I sat in the backseat, next to Scott, staring at the back of Jennifer's head. My nails dug into my palms, but I kept quiet.

"I could still run, and you wouldn't have an easy time stopping me," she continued, trying to sound casual, like she wasn't a murderer. "But I don't want your sister to die. I'm only doing what I had to do."

"Shut up," Derek bit out, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

Jennifer sighed, still pushing. "You need to hear the whole story, Derek. You need to know just how connected we are."

Derek's jaw clenched. "Stop. Talking." She did, for once.

Rain pounded against the pavement as we rushed from the cars into the hospital. I caught sight of Stiles gripping a familiar wooden bat in his hands.

"...What's that?" Scott asked, eyeing it.

Stiles didn't break stride. "Well, you got claws, I got a bat."

We stepped into the flickering lights of the hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic hitting my nose immediately.

"Scott! Cassie!"

Melissa ran toward us, eyes full of worry.

"Scott, what are you doing here? The hospital's evacuating..."

"We're here for Cora," he answered firmly.

Melissa frowned. "What, all of you?" Her eyes swept over us, landing on Jennifer.

Then, she spotted Stiles' bat. "Why does Stiles have my bat?" I almost laughed, despite everything.

Stiles looked down at the bat, as if he hadn't even realized he was holding it. "Uh..."

Scott pulled Melissa's focus back. "Mom, just trust me on this-you need to get out of here, right now."

Melissa hesitated, but she didn't argue. "The building is supposed to be clear in thirty minutes. We've got two ambulances that are coming back- one's ten minutes out, the other's twenty. Cora needs to be on one of those. They'll be picking up in the basement garage."

"Got it. Okay," Scott said, already moving toward the elevator.

Derek kept a firm grip on Jennifer's arm in the elevator, his face stone-cold.

"You don't have to keep me on a leash, Derek," she said lightly. "I'm going to help." I scoffed under my breath, earning a sharp glance from her. I didn't bother hiding my glare.

Jennifer turned away, probably deciding I wasn't worth the effort. Instead, she found Scott's eyes locked on her with quiet fury. Then Stiles, still gripping the bat like he was hoping for a reason to use it.

Jennifer rolled her eyes, sighing. The second we stepped onto the floor, something felt off.

I saw it before anyone else did, the trail of blood on the floor.

Scott spoke first, voice hesitant. "Derek...?"

I peaked into the open door. The room was empty. Cora was gone. My stomach twisted.

Small drops of blood trailed down the hall, leading toward a set of double doors. There was a loud grunt and then a body came flying out of the doors, slamming into the wall.

Peter slid across the floor and landed at Derek and Jennifer's feet. He groaned, rolling onto his back, dazed.

"We got a problem. Big problem," he muttered, jerking a thumb behind him. I followed his gaze and groaned. Aiden and Ethan stood at the end of the hall, their bodies fused into one towering, monstrous form.

Their glowing eyes locked onto Jennifer.

Scott stepped forward. "Ethan, Aiden- stop! You don't know what you're doing!"

Their voices merged, a single distorted growl. "All we want is her!"

We bolted. My breathing was heavy as we skidded around a corner, ducking into one of the rooms.

"Don't stop, don't stop!" Derek shouted.

My heart pounded.

"Where's the big guy?" Stiles asked, his voice tight with anxiety.

Derek barely glanced at him. "He's close."

Stiles let out a sharp breath. "What about Miss Blake?"

No one answered immediately.

"What do you mean? What does that mean?" Stiles demanded, voice rising. "Like she's gone?"

I felt my stomach twist.

"Scott, are you kidding me?"

"Shh! Quiet!" Derek snapped.

Stiles whirled on him, eyes blazing. "Me, be quiet??? Me? Huh? Are you telling me what to do now? When your psychotic, mass-murdering girlfriend - the second one you've dated, by the way - has got my dad somewhere, tied up, waiting to be ritually sacrificed?"

Scott shot a warning glance at him. "Stiles, they're still out there..."

"And... And they want her, right?" Stiles' hands were shaking. "Which means now, we don't have her either, so my dad and Cora are both dead."

I stiffened. "Not yet," Scott said quickly.

But it was getting worse.

I turned to look at Peter and saw it in his face before he even said it.

"Is she really dying?" Scott asked.

Peter didn't sugarcoat it. "She's definitely not getting any better."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt the burn in my throat, the rising panic trying to claw its way out. I could lose her. I just got her back, and still I may lose her.

"There has to be something that we can do," Scott insisted. "We have to help her"

Jennifer's voice cut through the room like a blade.

"You can't. Only I can."

Everyone turned to her at once.

I clenched my fists.

"I can save her, and I can tell you where Sheriff Stilinski is," she continued smoothly. "But there's a pack of Alphas in this hospital who want me dead. So, I'll help you-but only when I'm out of here and safe. Only then."

"Derek, wait!" Scott called. But Derek was already moving. Jennifer shrank back as he advanced, eyes darting toward the doors like she was weighing her options.

"She was trying to get out!" Derek accused.

Jennifer lifted her hands, her expression all wide-eyed innocence. "I was trying to keep from getting killed! You can't blame me for that."

"If you want to show you're one of the good guys," Stiles bit out, "then heal her."

Jennifer's gaze flickered to Cora, calculating. "Not until I'm safe."

I took a step forward, barely restraining myself from lunging at her. "She's dying!" I snapped. "You don't get to use her as leverage!"

Jennifer only sighed, like we were all a bunch of children having a tantrum.

"I'd like to volunteer a different method of persuasion..." Peter said smoothly.

We all turned to him. He smirked. "Let's torture her."

"Works for me," Derek said without hesitation. I nodded, my eyes cold.

Jennifer's face drained of color. Before anyone could act on it, the hospital PA system crackled to life, making everyone freeze.

"Um, can I have your attention...?" Melissa's voice rang through the halls, uncertain and nervous. "Mr. Deucalion... Excuse me, just Deucalion... requests you bring the woman calling herself Jennifer Blake to the ER reception. Do this, and everyone else can leave. You have ten minutes."

Jennifer inhaled sharply, shaking her head. "He's not gonna hurt her."

Derek glared. "Shut up!"

She looked straight at Scott, challenging him. "He won't."

Scott's jaw tightened.

Jennifer's lips curled slightly. "Scott, you know why. Tell them it's true."

Derek turned to him, eyes narrowing. "What does she mean?"

Jennifer's gaze swept the room, lingering on me for a second too long. "You're not the only one he wants in his pack." Jennifer's voice was smooth. "Deucalion doesn't just want an Alpha Pack, he wants perfection."

Everyone turned to her, wary but listening. "That means adding the rarest of Alphas to his ranks," she continued, her eyes flicking briefly to Scott.

Peter's expression shifted into something unreadable. "A True Alpha," he murmured, almost in awe.

Stiles frowned. "What's that?"

Peter glanced at him. "The kind that doesn't have to steal his power from another. One that can rise by the force of his own will." His lips curled slightly as he turned back to Scott. "Our little Scott..."

Scott barely reacted. His hands were clenched into fists, his shoulders tense. "It doesn't matter," he muttered. "We still need to get her out of here."

"Ah Ah Ah I'm not finished yet." Jennifer cut him off. "Cassandra is important to them too." I realized what she was doing and my spine straightened.

"This is not the time or place for this conversation." I said.

Jennifer sighed, as if I was being silly. "You're a Guardian. Deucalion knows that, just like he knows what Scott is. He wants to control what he can't destroy. If he can't turn you, he'll eliminate you."

Silence fell over the room. Scott's jaw tightened. "That's not happening."

Jennifer folded her arms. "Then you better start thinking about how you're going to win this fight, because he's not going to stop until he has both of you-or neither of you exist at all."

I swallowed, forcing down the creeping dread. I already knew what I had to do. But I wasn't ready to say it yet. "Right now, that doesn't matter. Lets focus on Cora and Melissa right now.

Scott nodded, though he gave me a look. "My mom said there's one more ambulance coming in twenty minutes. And I don't think we've been here that long, so if we can get down to the garage, get to the last ambulance, we can get out of here."

Derek's gaze was sharp. "The twins aren't gonna let us just walk out."

Scott exhaled. "I'll distract them."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "You mean fight them."

"Whatever I have to do."

"I'll help you." Derek and I said in unison.

Jennifer stepped forward, her voice laced with something almost possessive. "Um, sorry, but I'm not going anywhere without you, Derek."

I scoffed under my breath but kept quiet.

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'll do it. But, I'd prefer to be out there with an advantage."

"An advantage?" Stiles echoed. "Like what? You mean, like, a weapon?"

Peter smirked. "Something better than a baseball bat."

Stiles, oblivious to her thoughts, had picked up a resuscitation paddles from a nearby table. "Hey, wait, what about these?"

Derek gave him a flat look. "Do you know how to use those?"

Stiles faltered. "Well, no..."

"Put 'em down."

Scott's eyes landed on a vial. "Epinephrine?"

Derek shook his head. "That's only gonna make him stronger."

Peter smirked. "...How strong?" Scott just filled up the syringe, handing it to Peter.

A slow, maniacal grin spread across his face.

"All right, boys!" Peter called, rolling his shoulders. "Let's rumble!"

The twins moved as one-a mass of shifting limbs and brute force, a seamless machine built to destroy. Scott barely had time to brace before they lunged. I threw myself into the fray, knowing we couldn't let them get past us.

Scott ducked a massive swing, rolling to the side as the twins' massive form came crashing forward. I barely dodged a wild strike aimed at my ribs, twisting away at the last second. Peter, slower but still dangerous, aimed a well-placed clawed hand at their exposed side, but they retaliated with a brutal backhand, sending him sprawling.

"C'mon, boys, that's the best you got?" I taunted, moving fast to get their attention back on me. I barely got my arms up before they slammed into me, sending me flying into the wall. Pain exploded in my back, but I forced myself to my feet.

Scott took the opportunity to leap onto their back, locking his arms around their thick neck. "Cass, now!"

I surged forward, flinging a knife to the back of their knee. The force made them stumble, and for a moment, they faltered. Scott tightened his grip, veins bulging in his arms as he strained to hold them down.

But they were too strong. With a guttural growl, they bucked Scott off like he weighed nothing. He crashed into a row of overturned hospital beds, knocking over medical trays. The clatter echoed through the halls.

I barely had time to react before they came at me next. A fist to my gut sent me doubling over, gasping for breath, but I had no time to recover before they grabbed me by the arm and hurled me across the hallway. I hit the ground hard, tasting blood as I bit the inside of my cheek.

Peter, back on his feet, wiped blood from his mouth and scowled. "That shot didn't last very long..." he muttered, eyeing the empty epinephrine vial nearby. "Those twins are really starting to piss me off."

Scott pulled himself up, wincing. "How the hell are we supposed to get past them?"

Peter exhaled, shaking his head. "Personally, I think if we keep letting them beat the living crap out of us, they'll tire and give up." He moved to stand but stumbled.

Scott shot him a look. "Not helping."

I wiped the blood from my chin and exchanged a glance with Scott. We didn't have time to waste. We needed to get out-now.

Scott tensed. "Cass, we gotta go."

I hesitated. "Scott-"

"Now!"

I didn't argue. With one last look at the twins, I grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him down the hall. Scott was right behind me. We had to get to that ambulance.

Scott banged on the ambulance door, his voice urgent. "Stiles!"

The door flew open, and Stiles nearly toppled out in his rush. "Sorry," He reached for Peter, helping Scott hoist the older man inside.

"Where's Derek and Jennifer?" Stiles asked, glancing past Scott toward the flickering hospital hallway.

"I'll find Derek," I said suddenly.

Scott turned, frowning. "Cass, we need to stick together."

"You need to find your mom," I corrected. "I need to find Derek and Jennifer."

Stiles scoffed. "Uh, yeah, terrible idea. Maybe the worst one you've ever had, and that's saying something because I have a long list."

I crossed my arms, steadying my breath. "If Jennifer gets away, this isn't over. We can't afford to let her disappear again."

Scott hesitated. "Cassie-"

"I'll be fine," I cut him off. "I'll meet up with you all later. Get Melissa out of here. Find Stilinski."

For a moment, Scott just looked at me, like he was trying to see through whatever plan was forming in my head. But he was exhausted, barely standing, and after everything tonight, I knew he didn't have the fight left in him to argue.

"Be careful," he said finally.

I nodded, turning on my heel before anyone else could protest. I felt Stiles watching me, the way his concern burned hotter than the cuts littering my skin. But I didn't look back.

I couldn't.

The hospital was silent. The kind of silence that meant someone else was waiting.

I found her at the end of the corridor, standing between two flickering lights, her face half in shadow, deadly calm despite everything.

Jennifer smiled when she saw me. "I was wondering when you'd come."

I swallowed, forcing down the instinct to run. "You know why I'm here."

She tilted her head, amused. "Do I?"

"I'm not letting you walk out of here," I said, my voice steady. "You're done."

Jennifer let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, Cassandra... You still don't get it, do you?"

I clenched my fists. "Get what?"

"That this was never about Scott."

My stomach twisted, but I kept my face blank. "Of course it's about Scott. Deucalion-"

"Deucalion wants Scott, yes. But you?" Her expression shifted, something sharper, more knowing. "You are something just as rare. Just as powerful. And in some ways, more important."

I took a step back. "No."

Jennifer sighed, shaking her head. "You always do this. You always deny what you are, what you're meant to be. The Guardian-the balance between worlds. You're the tether that holds everything together. Do you really think Deucalion hasn't considered that? That the Alpha Pack hasn't discussed whether keeping you alive is worth the risk?"

I didn't move.

Jennifer's voice softened, almost gentle. "If I take you instead, the cycle is complete. The sacrifices will be over. The balance restored. The alpha pack will be gone, your friends, your town will be safe."

My breath caught, she saw it, her eyes gleaming. "If you give yourself willingly, it's over."

I wanted to deny it, to tell her that this wasn't an option. That sacrificing myself wouldn't change anything.

But I knew better.

Jennifer was right, if I gave myself up, if I made that choice, it would end. Stilinski would be free. Scott would have a chance to fight. The Alpha Pack would lose their leverage.

It was the best option. The only option.

Jennifer watched me carefully, as if she already knew the decision forming in my head. "You already know it's the right choice."

My pulse pounded in my ears. I exhaled. I thought of Stiles, holding my face, his honey brown eyes begging me to stay, to fight. I closed my eyes, turned, and walked away.

Jennifer's voice followed me, sickly sweet. "Not yet, then? That's okay. You'll come back. You always do."

I didn't stop walking. I couldn't.

-----☾☼-----

Scott's heart pounded as he ran through the empty hospital corridors, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

"Mom!" His voice echoed, frantic, desperate. "Mom!"

But there was nothing. No answer. Just the distant hum of flickering lights and the weight of the truth settling in his chest. They were gone.

A slow, deliberate set of footsteps approached from behind, followed by a voice as smooth as it was deadly.

"They're gone..." Deucalion confirmed, stepping forward, his face unreadable. His tone, almost sympathetic, made Scott's skin crawl. "Guardians, Scott. If you were with me, I could've told you what it meant. I could've warned you."

Scott turned, fists clenched, teeth grinding together. "Where are they?"

Deucalion smiled, tilting his head like he was studying something fragile. "Let me help you, Scott-let's help each other."

Scott barely heard him, his thoughts racing, searching for something-anything-that would make this right.

"You help me catch them," Deucalion continued, his voice patient, coaxing, "and I'll help you get your mother and Stiles' father back."

Scott stiffened. "Them?"

Deucalion's smirk widened just slightly. "Oh, Scott... you didn't think Jennifer was alone, did you?" His blind eyes almost seemed to shine with pride. "Cassandra's with her. Well, not physically, but she has chosen her side."

Scott's stomach dropped. "No... she wouldn't."

"She already has," Deucalion cut him off. "You know what that means, don't you? You're smart enough to put it together. She's a liability, to us, to Jennifer, to herself. But I can help you keep her safe."

Scott's breath hitched.

"She's running straight into something she doesn't understand, and you know it." Deucalion took another step forward, lowering his voice. "You're the only one who can stop her from making the wrong choice."

Scott's fists shook.

"Scott!" Stiles' voice broke through as he turned the corner, frantic and pleading. He grabbed Scott's arm, yanking him back, eyes wild. "Don't do this! Don't go with him!"

Scott swallowed, looking at Stiles, his best friend-his brother.

"I don't know what else to do..." His voice cracked, raw and exhausted.

Stiles shook his head furiously. "No, Scott, there's gotta be something else, okay? We always-we always have a plan B!"

Scott's gaze flickered between Deucalion and Stiles. "Not this time," he murmured. "Not when Cass's life, your dad's life, my mom's life is on the line."

"Scott..." Stiles' voice wavered, barely above a whisper.

Scott turned, jaw set, resolve hardening. "I'm gonna find your dad. I promise."

Stiles lunged forward, grabbing for him, but Scott was already stepping toward Deucalion, his choice made.

And Deucalion just smiled.