"𝓃ℴ, 𝒾 𝓌ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁ℯ, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝒽ℴ𝓌 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝓉ℯℯ𝓉𝒽"

Ophelia's weekend was quiet. Reasonably quiet considering after what had occurred at one in themorning on Friday in the Preserve. The hybrid had been pleasantly surprised to find that neither Scott, Stiles, nor the Sheriff had paid her a visit due to the events that had gone down. She realised that not being called into the station meant that Jackson had made the smart decision and kept his mouth shut. Or he didn't, and instead just simply kept her out of it, resulting in the two boys to be on the receiving end of it.

Although from what she had gathered off Stiles' personality, she was surprised to find he hadn't dug through sale records to find the location of her house. Not that she was complaining of course.

Come Monday, the girl dragged herself out of the confines of her home and hopped in her car to drive to the high school. After all, she had a meeting with the Devil; not the literal one, but he might as well have his name changed to it. Ophelia is dreading sitting down opposite Gerard Argent, and to put it simply, she's also strongly contemplating whether to kill him in the principal's office on school grounds.

The minute the tires of her car stop spinning, the hybrid loudly groans when a teenager jumps in front of her car, with a very, very large scowl on his face. She grabs her bag and swings it over her shoulder as she slams the driver's door shut. "You look positively thrilled this morning. Had a good sleep?"

Scott rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his hoodie, and Ophelia only raises her eyebrows in amusement at his attempt to appear more threatening. "Why'd you do it?"

The blonde leans against her red vehicle and furrows her eyebrows, feigning confusion to his question. "Do what? Have a shower this morning? Kill someone at another bar on Saturday? Let Jackson go? Decide to come to school today?" When Scott's eyes glow a vibrant gold, she clicks her tongue in understanding. "Ah, I'm guessing you haven't gotten over Jackson quite just yet. What did he do now? Please tell me it was 'prosecute your asses all the way to jail'..."

Scott's eyes roll a second time, annoyance continuing to radiate off him from her attitude. "We got restraining orders," he mumbles.

Ophelia loudly laughs. So far, she is thoroughly enjoying every part of the interaction. "That's amazing. I mean, you did kidnap him and all, so technically it's the right-"

She snaps her lips closed when Scott growls in aggression and walks forward to wrap his hand around her throat, Ophelia's back up against her car as she gasps for air. "Shut up," he lowly orders. "I swear to God, I'm going to-"

Ophelia's wide eyes return to normal as she stares in boredom at the Omega werewolf. "Kill me? I thought you were against that kind of violence, Scotty." The boy's golden eyes widen in bewilderment when she grabs onto his wrist and wrenches his hand away, detaching his grip so easily that it leaves him rendered frozen in surprise. "I thought I told people not to touch me," she softly adds.

Scott nervously swallows and braces himself to run when the dark veins cascade from the girl's lower eyelids to her cheekbones. The minute his back turns, Ophelia flashes forward in a burst of supernatural speed and buries her fangs into the teenager's neck, gulping down mouthfuls of his sweet blood. When Scott groans in pain, Ophelia harshly detaches the canines out of his skin and pushes him forward, causing him to stumble over on the ground.

"Delicious," she announces, licking her lips.

The boy spins around, his lips apart in shock as his trembling fingers raise to gently graze over the two puncture marks in his neck. "Y-you bit me."

"I did."

Scott meets her gaze, wincing when a slight breeze hits the open wounds. "Why?"

"To teach you a lesson," she answers, her tone not wavering as she stares him down. "Next time you try something like that again, I won't stop." When Scott's hand darts out to balance himself on her car due to the loss of blood, she only rolls her eyes. "Get over it, you'll heal in a few minutes. I've got a meeting to attend. See you in English, Scott."

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"Ophelia Stone. Lovely name, Ophelia."

The hybrid raises her eyebrows in agreement, her narrowed eyes staying on the man with grey hair seated opposite her. "I tend to agree."

Gerard Argent gives the teenager a warm smile and turns the page found stored in her school file. His eyes leave her figure and scan across the words, humming occasionally. "I see you only have one contact in your details; Nik Stone?"

"My brother."

"Oh, no parents?" Gerard asks, his tone laced with surprise.

"They're dead," she casually states. "Murdered, actually."

The man's eyes fill with sympathy at the revelation, yet she can't decipher whether it's fake or not. "I'm so sorry, that must be terrible."

Ophelia shrugs in reply, quick to disagree with his assumption. "No, it's quite lovely."

Gerard's eyes widen at her apathetic reply, and he hastily closes the bright yellow folder. "Well, I think we should talk about your attendance, don't you?" The man doesn't give her a chance to respond, quickly delving into the topic. "Out of the month you've been here, you've only been marked off present for just a little over two weeks. Quite concerning, no?"

"Not particularly," she counters nonchalantly. "I've got family stuff going on."

He nods in understanding, though he doesn't seem eager to believe her so quickly. "I see. I presume you wouldn't mind me giving this 'Nik' a call then?"

Ophelia huffs a small sigh, and she plasters on a smile. "Go for it. I'm sure he'll love to hear from you." A few minutes later and the girl is listening to the quite entertaining conversation shared between the hunter and the Original hybrid.

"Nik Stone?" The line falls silent, and Ophelia can only imagine the incredibly confused expression Niklaus holds at the false name used to greet him. "This is Gerard Argent, principal of Beacon High."

Even from sitting thousands of miles away from him, Ophelia can pick up the subtle change in the Mikaelson's heartbeat, most likely out of anger upon hearing the last name. Klaus and the rest of his siblings had received little to no updates from the blonde teenager; however, he has enough knowledge about the world of the supernatural to know exactly who and what an Argent is. "Yes? Is my sister all right?"

Gerard catches the girl's steely, cold pair of eyes before increasing the volume of the speaker phone. "That's what I'm here to ask you. Her attendance record is quite shocking, although she claims to have family issues at home."

"That's what she said? Well, there's no reason to call me then."

"I just thought to double check. You know how kids are these days, skipping school to do drugs or have a party without the guardians knowing," Gerard playfully says.

"Right. Well, I have pressing work matters, so I must be off."

Ophelia's lips twitch into a smile at his answer. If only she could call petty arguments with Marcel Gerard in New Orleans 'work matters.' "Best of luck, dear brother." She can almost hear his eyes rolls at her reply dripping heavily with sarcasm.

When the phone hangs up, Gerard sighs and gives the student a small smile. "All right, well, thanks for stopping in to sort this out, Ophelia. Best of luck with your family." She returns the extremely fake smile and pushes her chair up to walk to the door. However, just before her hand touches the doorknob, she pauses. Gerard's eyebrows raise at her as he looks up from his computer once more. "Is everything okay?"

Ophelia continues to deeply inhale, the taste of Scott's blood lingering in her mouth. She wants to rip into Gerard's throat and drink him dry until his body falls limp to the ground. She wants the students or teachers to scream when they find the deceased man in his office, and she wants to hear his heartbeat slowly fade to a stop as his last remaining drop of blood slides down her throat.

She slowly turns around with her lips pursed into a tight smile. "Perfectly splendid."

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After sitting through a history class, Ophelia quickly pushes past groups of people as she tries to reach her locker. In a split second, she decides to grab the rest of her things and go home. On the fourth attempt of failing to remember the code to her combination lock, she growls in frustration and pulls at the item, causing it to wrench off the door. She raises her eyebrows in a testing manner to the pair of girls watching in shock, and they share a look before running away.

As she rummages through the now open locker and shoves her empty water bottle that was once filled up with blood into her bag, Ophelia pauses upon feeling a pair of eyes on her.

One of the things the hybrid detests is people spying on her.

She turns around and catches the studen holding his camera up in mid capture of a photo of her. Ophelia scoffs and she strides over before grabbing said item, throwing it onto the floor and stamping her foot on it. "Hey! That thing's expensive as shit!"

The girl arches an eyebrow in response. "That thing is now worth nothing. Why were you taking photographs of me?"

The boy in the black leather jacket nervously rubs the back of his neck, his eyes meeting anywhere but her pair of judgemental, green ones. "I- Uh, it's for the yearbook."

Even though she can immediately tell that he's lying, Ophelia indulges further in the conversation. "Oh, yeah? You're the yearbook photographer?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm meant to take random photos of everyone," he explains nervously.

Ophelia slowly nods. "What's your name?"

"Matt," he reveals, giving her a small smile.

"Well, Matt, stop being a creep," she hisses. "If I ever see you taking a photograph of me again, I'll do a lot more than break your bloody camera."

His smile promptly drops, and he frantically nods at her in understanding. "Yeah-yeah, of course," he rambles. "Um, I've been meaning to ask you, have you heard about the underground show on Friday?"

Her eyebrows raise in genuine curiosity. "What underground show?"

Matt's eyes light up at her display of interest and he eagerly explains, almost forgetting the threat she had made seconds earlier. "They've got some big name spinning, it's like a rave if you want to call it that."

"I love raves," Ophelia answers brightly. When he opens his mouth to say something else, she tuts and cuts him off. "And no, I'm not going with you." Leaving the shocked teenager boy with his broken camera, she turns on her heel and walks down the hallway to the double doors exiting to the car park. However, when someone steps in front of them, her face falls. She holds a finger up and side steps around them, continuing onwards. "No, nope. Absolutely not. Not happening."

Stiles' eyes widen and he quickly follows, before eventually catching up to block her path from leaving. "I forgive you about Jackson," he quickly says. When Ophelia chuckles in disbelief, he makes a face. "Okay, not really... But it's about Jackson and I thought you would want to know considering you're kinda in all of this now whether you like it or not."

Ophelia looks at him expectantly, and her foot begins tapping on the floor impatiently. "Get on with it."

The boy with the buzzcut sighs and looks behind him quickly. "Ugh, you know what, fine. Jackson's being controlled by someone."

"He's a puppet?"

"No-yes- kind of?" Stiles rolls his eyes before dragging a hand down the side of his face. "Allison got Lydia to translate the Bestiary. It says the kanima is controlled by someone, it has a master."

"Makes sense," Ophelia replies. "He's like an unpaid assassin."

His eyes squint, before he nods in agreement. "Kinda. Also, Jackson gave Scott and I restraining orders..."

The blonde barks a loud laugh, slapping her hand over her mouth to muffle it when Stiles scowls at her in annoyance. "Sorry, it's just, Scott told me earlier and it's still just as funny the second time."

The Stilinski rolls his eyes before mumbling, "Yeah, he mentioned you tried to kill him."

Ophelia shrugs. "Wasn't trying to kill him. He pissed me off, I bit him. Only fair."

"That is so not fair- wait, why didn't you kill him?"

"It's called restraint." She grins at his shocked expression before wiggling her fingers as a wave. "Nice talk, Stiles. I think you're my favourite."

The boy rapidly blinks before a proud smile beams onto his face as he watches her walk away. As soon as the double doors slam shut, he snaps out of the daze like state and smacks his forehead. "No, no, can't like her. She's a bad person. Cannot be friends with her, Stiles."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

With the wind blowing through her hair, Ophelia presses her foot further down on the gas pedal, the cherry red Porsche flying along the road. She sighs softly, yet her face falls when hearing the irritating ring of her phone. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Pressing the answer button, she raises it to her ear, one hand still on the steering wheel. "Ophelia's phone is temporarily unavailable, please leave a message and call back lat-"

"I know you're there," Lydia answers in amusement.

"What do you want?"

The strawberry blonde hesitates. "I-I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee sometime?"

Very quickly, Ophelia's lips tug down into a scowl as her hand on the wheel grips so tightly that the leather begins to crack. "Like, a date? Or are we talking coffee as friends, because we aren't friends, Lydia."

"Um, like a date..."

"I don't do relationships," Ophelia states bluntly.

Even at the thought of it, her mind trails back to her previous romantic partner, Bonnie. Although the relationship was short, lasting five months, Ophelia quickly fell head over heels in love with the Bennett witch. Finding out that her feelings weren't reciprocated, and that Bonnie had only been spending time with her as an attempt to gain secrets about the Mikaelsons, well, Ophelia claimed it was like what she imagined to be stabbed with the infamous dagger dipped in white oak ash. It broke her. Any last sliver of trust that she had inside of her was diminished, the tall stone walls once guarding herself rising straight back up.

"Oh," Lydia softly says in disappointment. "Okay, no worries. I just thought I'd ask. Um, I hope you're okay."

Ophelia clears her throat as she once again feels her humanity flickering like a dim lamp in a room cloaked with darkness. "I've got to go. But, Lydia?" When the strawberry blonde hums, Ophelia finds herself warning the girl. "If I were you, I'd be asking your so called 'friends' about what they're doing in their spare time. 'Cause to me, they don't seem to care too much about you, considering how they're lying about anything and everything. I'd start with Jackson. Stand up for yourself, love. Don't let them push you under the doormat."

Before she can receive a response, Ophelia Stone hangs up the phone as she pulls into her driveway.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

When receiving a text message from Klaus seconds after hanging up with Lydia asking why the fuck he had firstly, been referred to as 'Nik Stone' and secondly, why her principal is an infamous supernatural hunter, Ophelia didn't think much as she replied back with a smiley face. The last thing she wanted was to think about the hunters, or what her brother planned to do. She simply wanted to be distracted.

Which leads to her sprinting through the woods in her werewolf form, her ears flicking around as her eyes dart around to take in the surroundings. The leaves in various hues of browns crinkle under each step her paws take, birds taking flight in alarm as the predatory animal passes by in a flurry. Ophelia huffs a sigh as her muscles warm under the sunlight shining through the trees, and she continues running through the Preserve with no set destination in mind.

Embracing her wolf side meant that Ophelia had full control. She no longer blacked out in the short transformation, or experienced the large chunks of memory missing from when she was in her other form. She was the one to make the decisions whether she wanted to kill someone or not, where she would travel, or if it would either be deer or bird meat that she would tear off the bone. She could bask in the light of the full moon or sun and be at one with the nature surrounding her.

She could be free.

Skidding to a stop, Ophelia's eyes resemble a roll at what she finds in front of her. The same bloody coyote. The animal crouches down with its lip curled back in a ferocious snarl, warning the wolf to stay away. That is, until Ophelia's eyes turn blood red, causing the coyote's to instantaneously shine their bright, cobalt blue back.

Ophelia knows that the coyote wouldn't harm her, but she doesn't understand why she knows it.

Eventually, the two like minded animals are gently touching noses, sniffing each other out with curiosity and interest. When a twig snaps nearby, the coyote stiffens and races away without any warning, not casting another glance back to its newfound friend.

Ophelia's head snaps to the side as she tries to find the source of the noise, and a growl rumbles in her throat when an arrow skims over the fur on the top of her head. Her eyes narrow in warning at the unknown hunter that steps out from the bushes, their crossbow aimed and ready to fire once more. She barks multiple times, the snapping of the wolf's jaw causing the man to dryly swallow and falter as his weapon lowers ever so slightly.

That moment of hesitation, when his guard is let down momentarily, gives Ophelia the chance to run forward and sink her teeth into his calf, blood instantly filling her mouth as he releases a guttural scream in pain. The coyote watches in the distance as the white wolf mauls the hunter to his death, its grey eyes staying glued to the scene until the shrieks and protests fade as the victim takes his final breath.

𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.
𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘖𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢!

𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹