"𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 ℴ𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁ℴℴ𝒹, 𝒾'𝓂 𝓈ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉ℯℯ𝓃 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃"

The last twelve hours had been a whirlwind. Ophelia didn't sleep throughout the night. After discovering the second part of the dead pool, she, Lydia, and Malia had been informed that there was an attack at the lacrosse game. A Devenford Prep player, Brett, was revealed to be a werewolf after one of the assassins on their own team had attacked him. Deaton had successfully managed to save the boy, but that wasn't the only violent encounter of the evening.

Ophelia had felt her heart stop when Stiles had messaged her a simple sentence. Someone tried to kill Scott.

Two minutes later, he had added, He's okay though.

She had expected her friends to be attacked. However, she hadn't expected it to start happening this soon. And what idiot would be dumb enough to take on a True Alpha on their own? The freshman, Violet, was that idiot. Violet had shortly been arrested, with a warrant out for Garret's.

Even though Malia was playing it off that she was fine after seeing her name on the list, Ophelia knew that the girl was secretly scared. So she didn't let the werecoyote out of her sight. They had gone to inform Henry Tate that the girl would be sleeping at Ophelia's, and then they had stayed up for the remaining hours of the night watching movies to distract themselves.

When Malia had finally closed her eyes and drifted off at three in the morning, Ophelia had gently placed a blanket over her body and walked out the front door, leaving a note in case the girl would wake up before she returned. Her destination was Liam Dunbar's house.

It's easy getting inside. She had knocked twice, and after a minute the door had opened to reveal an older man that she vaguely remembers seeing around the hospital. A quick compulsion allowed her to step inside, then she had made sure that he wouldn't remember ever seeing her around. Ophelia slips inside Liam's room and finds a comfortable spot in the armchair beside his bed.

She remembers doing something rather similar with Scott in her first few weeks in Beacon Hills.

She closes her eyes as she waits for him to awake, wondering about how her family is fairing at the moment. She'd been getting daily updates and calls from them all, whilst she would in return tell them about her own developing situation with the dead pool. Thankfully, the Mikaelsons seem to be in a rather peaceful period; at least, there isn't anyone actively trying to murder them all (that they know of).

Finally, Liam's eyes snap open and he lurches up in his bed, flinching at the sight of the girl beside him. "Jesus Christ!" he yells in alarm.

Ophelia's eyes narrow in annoyance. "How many times do I need to tell people that I'm not Jesus bloody Christ?" She gestures to her head and down her body. "Do you see any resemblance? And keep it down, Liam," she chides disapprovingly. "We don't need to wake Mum and Dad."

His breathing is heavy as he stares at her with a little fear. "How did you get in?" he questions quietly.

"Oh, that's nothing you need to worry about."

"Are you here to kill me?"

Ophelia stares at him, more than unamused by the question. "Seriously, Liam? If I wanted to kill you-"

"You would've done it already," he mumbles.

"Exactly!"

His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he looks at her. "So, what are you doing here," he glances to his alarm clock, "at three in the morning?"

She softly clears her throat and shifts in the chair. "I wanted to check in on you," she admits uncomfortably. "Look, I know that all of this must be very overwhelming, and I just wanted to let you know that if you ever... want to talk to someone... I'm an option."

His eyes flick away from her as he rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, thanks," he replies. He blows out a long breath of air. "Yeah, it's... it's weird."

"Just weird?" she asks with a raised brow.

Liam huffs a laugh. "It's insane," he corrects with a yawn. "I mean, all of this is. First, I'm a freaking werewolf. Then there's all of you... And now there's a dead pool and I still don't know if I'm on it or not."

She frowns at the sheer amount of anxiety she can sense in his chemo-signals. He's trying to hide it well, but he's simply terrified. Ophelia leans forward in her chair slightly, giving him enough space to still feel comfortable. "Liam, I'm going to be brutally honest with you because I believe that you deserve it. There is a ninety-nine-point-nine-nine chance that you're on the list. Actually, it's certain." His heartrate picks up. "But you're not going to die."

He tries to swallow the growing lump in his throat. "How do you know that?" he whispers.

A small smile adorns her face as he hesitantly meets her eyes. "Because you're in Scott's pack now, you're a part of his family. And because Scott's also a part of my family, you are as well." She stands up and places a hand on his shoulder. "No one fucks with my family."

"Thanks, Fi," he mutters. His eyes widen. "Wait, can I call you that? I heard other people calling you that, but am I allowed to call you that?"

"Only if I'm allowed to call you Lee Lee." She quietly snorts at how his face scrunches up. "Of course you're allowed to call me that. I'll head off, but here's my number, okay?" She grabs a nearby pen and scratches the numbers down on a piece of paper, adding 'Fi' and a smiley face above it. "If you ever need someone, call. Don't feel bad, don't worry about it, call me, okay? I've got some experience being a werewolf and dealing with a shit ton of anger."

His lips lift into a grateful smile as he takes the paper. "Thank you," he tells her. "Seriously, thanks."

"Any time, kid. Sorry for the early morning wake-up call."

When she returns home, she hears Malia stirring awake. Ophelia switches the lamp on in the living room and softly smiles as she watches the werecoyote rub her eyes and yawn. "Fi?" she calls out, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"Yeah, it's me." She joins the girl back on the couch. "Get any rest?"

Malia yawns again and lets her head drop onto the hybrid's shoulder. "A bit." She blinks the sleep out of her eyes. "Where'd you go?"

"Went to see Liam," she replies, taking a stand of her friend's hair to play with it.

"Liam?"

"Yeah. I don't know, it..." Ophelia huffs a sigh. "It makes me feel something seeing a young kid with no experience and no idea what the fuck he's doing, you know?"

Malia's brows furrow in thought. "You mean, he reminds you of you?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"I see it," she agrees. "You're both angry." Ophelia rolls her eyes. "But you're also super loyal." Malia purses her lips. "And violent. Occasionally homicidal, too."

"Huh, maybe he can be my little protégé."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

With Lydia and Stiles going to talk to Jordan Parrish about the shocking revelation that he's on the dead pool and Scott and Kira at home, Malia and Ophelia are the only ones attending school. The Stone, naturally, was not keen to make an appearance but she also didn't want to leave Malia alone. It wasn't so much that she's worried that the girl might be murdered (although, she very much is), but just simply because she doesn't want to be away from her. And they manage to get through two classes until they have an argument about attending the next.

"I hate math! No, hate isn't even strong enough!"

Malia sighs as she glances into the classroom starting to fill up with students. "I know, but I need to take it if I wanna pass."

"I thought you hated math, too," she complains. But Malia doesn't reply, only grabbing onto her hand and forcefully tugging her inside, which is difficult because Ophelia literally digs her heels into the ground. "Oh, come on!"

As they settle into their seats and the bell rings overhead, Ms Fleming sighs as she looks over the multiple empty chairs. "Has anyone seen Stiles, Lydia, or Kira today?" She's greeted with silence, so she settles her gaze onto the pair of brunettes. "Malia, Ophelia. Any idea where your friends are?"

The girls glance to each other briefly. "I could try catching their scent," Malia replies earnestly. Ophelia bites onto her lip to refrain from laughing. She's simply adorable.

Their teacher stares at her. "Right... How about I just mark them down as absent."

Ophelia begrudgingly opens her textbook, but after a few seconds of flipping through the pages, she pauses. A quiet whisper floats through the halls and into her ears, calling out Malia's name. It's Derek. She shouldn't be surprised that he's back at the high school again. Shortly after she hears it, she sees Malia suddenly turn around, trying to find the source of the sound. Ophelia realises that she hasn't recognised who the owner of the voice is yet.

Malia's brows knit together as she leans over to the hybrid. "Do you hear that?" she mutters. Ophelia nods.

"Okay, everyone, let's begin with last night's homework."

"Malia."

The werecoyote spins around once more, then finally decides to go investigate. As she grabs stuffs her books back into her bag, she briefly meets her friend's eyes in a questioning look. Ophelia quickly nods and follows suit. As they pass Ms Fleming's desk, the woman asks, "Girls, do you need to be excused from class?"

Ophelia tilts her head, she thought the answer was obvious enough. Malia gives the teacher a puzzled look. "Yeah," she responds bluntly.

Walking out into the halls, Ophelia lets the girl move in front of her, allowing her to use her abilities to find Derek. It's good practise, after all. When Malia stops in front of a staircase, Ophelia waves to the Hale hiding up it with a grin, something he sort of reciprocates. Malia finally senses a presence and spins around, eyes narrowing in confusion at the sight of the werewolf.

"You know, someone's going to report you to the Sheriff one day," Ophelia says. "A grown ass man wandering around a high school... You're basically asking for it."

He gives her a mocking smile. "Fuck off."

Malia rolls her eyes at their bickering. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

"Brett's still out of it."

"Remind me who Brett is again?" Ophelia asks.

"The kid who was attacked last night," Derek says. "I need to find his pack and warn them about the dead pool."

Still not understanding why she has anything to do with this, Malia clears her throat. "So, what do you need me for?"

"I know a little something about this pack. They have a kind of secret meeting place in the woods." Derek walks down the stairs to join them. "No one's spent more time in the woods of Beacon Hills than you," he tells Malia. His eyes move onto the hybrid. "And you're always helpful."

Ophelia scoffs. "Wow, I'm feeling used."

The comment goes over Derek's head. "This is Brett's," he tells them, holding out a dark green lacrosse jersey to Malia. "Breathe it in."

She quickly shakes her head. "I'm not good at that yet," she responds honestly.

Ophelia smiles reassuringly at her. "But you can be. Try it."

Derek nods encouragingly. "We'll teach you," he adds. He hands her the jersey. "Focus on the different scents. Some are tied to identity."

"And others give off emotions," Ophelia says. Malia closes her eyes as she holds the shirt up to her nose and inhales deeply.

As they begin the walk across the parking lot to Derek's car, Ophelia notices something strange. Her eyes lock onto Derek's arm, the skin covered by his jacket, but she can smell blood. It's not fresh, perhaps dried. Her brows furrow in confusion as to why he isn't healing. Halfway across the lot, she clears her throat. "Hey, Derek," she calls out. "Can we talk for a sec?"

When he nods, Malia takes the hint and wanders off to the SUV to wait for them. He frowns at the concern etched onto her face. "What's up?"

"Show me your arm."

"What?"

"Show me your arm," she repeats firmly. For some reason, she hears his heart pick up. He's anxious. "I'm not going to ask again."

After looking at her for a few moments, Derek sighs and rolls the sleeve of his jacket up. "Happy?" he retorts.

Ophelia stares at the three rather large claw marks on his forearm. She looks up to meet his eyes, then looks back down to the wounds. After a minute of silence, she asks, "Why the fuck aren't you healing?"

"I am," he tells her.

"Oh, my bad, let me rephrase myself. Why aren't you healing at the same pace as a normal werewolf should?"

Derek closes his eyes for a second. He can't find any reasons why he shouldn't tell her. "I'm losing my power," he reveals quietly.

"What do you mean?"

He flashes his golden eyes. "First it was this. Then the other day, I started to lose my sense of smell." Her eyes slowly widen. "And now I'm not healing like I should be."

She studies him in concern. She's never seen anything remotely like this, nor heard of it. But then again, before she had made a home in Beacon Hills she hadn't heard of many things. "Do you think it's related to Kate?" she suggests. "I mean, you lost your eyes after the whole... time travel thing."

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "But I'm willing to pay someone to find her." He swallows. "I need to figure out what's happening to me," he says.

Ophelia takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'll ask around and see if anyone's heard of something like this, there has to be a witch out there that can help you. We're gonna figure it out, Derek." She inhales sharply at the tears that shine in his eyes. She's never seen him this vulnerable before. "Is this why you wanted us to help you?"

He nods.

"I swear to Satan, I'll hunt Kate down myself and torture the answers out of her if needed."

Derek gives her a small smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"But for now, you're going to stay out of any danger." A low growl rumbles in her throat when he rolls his eyes. "I'm serious, Derek. I can't let you get badly hurt."

"Yeah, that's gonna be hard considering I'm worth fifteen million dollars on a supernatural hit list," he retorts. She rolls her eyes. "Fine," he agrees in defeat. "But..." He glances over to his car in the distance. "If I ever die, you can have my car."

Ophelia stares at him with exasperation. "If you say anything like that again, I will punch you," she snaps. "You are not dying."

He huffs a sigh in annoyance as they head over to the waiting Malia. "Shut up, I'm trying to be nice to you."

"Well, I don't appreciate it."

"Fine then. I take it back."

"As you should."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you, too!" When he stops walking, she stops as well. Ophelia cracks a small smile as he pulls her in for a short hug, and it widens when he shoves her backward after she ruffles his hair. "Oh, you love me."

Ten minutes later, they pull to a stop in the Preserve, ready to begin the search for the pack. Across her time in the woods, Ophelia hadn't come across any other supernatural beings aside from Malia. From the very beginning, she knew there were other packs in the town, Derek had told her so. But before now, before the dead pool had uncovered countless werewolves inhabiting the town, Ophelia hadn't had any real proof.

"Their Alpha is a woman named Satomi," Derek explains as they get out the car. "She's one of the oldest werewolves alive. And she's learned a lot."

Malia glances to him. "What does that mean?"

"She's a bitten werewolf. Learning control wasn't easy for her. She did something a long time ago that changed her. The quote-"

Ophelia raises a brow questioningly. "What quote?"

"The Sun, the Moon, the Truth," Derek says. "It's a mantra, it helps them with control." Suddenly, Malia stops walking, her eyes flicking across the expansive land before them. "What is it?"

The werecoyote glances to Ophelia who gives her an encouraging nod. "Gunpowder," she answers.

But it's not like only a single gun has been fired. Ophelia's eyes squint a fraction as she surveys their surroundings, the bitter scent of the powder entering her lungs with every breath she takes. And then she spots the brass shell casing. She crouches on the ground and gingerly picks it up, Derek and Malia closely stood behind her to examine it. "If there's a pack out here..."

Derek nods gravely. "They're not meeting. They're hiding."

When they make it back to the car, the three sit in silence for a few minutes. Ophelia frowns at the guilt and disappointment she can sense from Malia and reaches behind to lace their fingers together. Another minute passes. "I'm sorry," Malia says.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Derek insists. "If they don't want to be found, then we're not going to find them." Her lips dip into a frown of confusion.

"Some wolves have abilities..." Ophelia starts to explain. "It's sort of like a mastery over their bodies where they can restrain their scent."

"They can hide from other werewolves?" Malia questions in shock.

They both nod. "Or anyone, or anything, trying to find them," she confirms.

"That's why nobody knew about Brett," Malia concludes.

"Same with Demarco."

"Maybe we need to try something different," the werecoyote suggests. "Maybe we need to think like Stiles!"

Derek turns to look at her. "Like a hyperactive spaz?" he deadpans.

Ophelia rolls her eyes. "No. We need to take some pages out of his detective book."

Malia nods. "If they're really Buddhists, then maybe instead of asking where werewolves hide, we should be asking-"

"Where would Buddhists hide," he finishes. As he turns back to the front of the vehicle, his eyes lock onto the compass on the dashboard showing that they're currently facing east. "When the Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree, he looked to the east for enlightenment."

"Is there some kind of eastern point in Beacon Hills?"

Ophelia nods. "Lookout Point."

Once they arrive to their next destination, the half-moon shines directly above Beacon Hills, the only source of any light apart from their glowing eyes if required. However, the second Ophelia steps out of the car, she freezes in her tracks.

Malia glances over her shoulder to find the girl still by the vehicle. "Fi?" she calls out. Derek turns around, brows furrowing at how alert she has suddenly become.

"Blood," the hybrid whispers, almost afraid that if she speaks too loudly that something will shatter. "There's a lot of blood."

They walk through the clusters of trees, and as they get closer to the site Malia picks up on the scent as well. "Yeah, it's strong," she adds. "You don't smell it?" she queries Derek.

The Hale briefly glances to Ophelia, giving her a silent look with pleading eyes to keep what she had found out quiet. She doesn't understand why, but she'd respect his wishes. Maybe he just doesn't want to worry anyone considering they have, what some would call, more pressing issues at hand.

"Wait for me right here," he tells them both firmly.

Ophelia scoffs. "Bullshit," she snaps. "No fucking way." Her eyes narrow to slits as she stares Derek down. "You stay here. Neither of you move." She watches Derek's jaw clench in annoyance, but he doesn't stop her. She knows he wants to continue helping them like normal despite losing his power, but it's precisely because he's losing his power that Ophelia doesn't want to throw him headfirst into potential danger.

Her eyes glow a bright crimson as she moves through the woods, following the strong scent of death that hangs heavy in the air. And when she finally finds the scene, her eyes widen in horror.

Metres away from her are at least a dozen werewolves, none of their hearts beating. As she cautiously moves closer to inspect the bodies, holding her breath at the foul stench, she realises that their skin is tinted a blueish-purple, faint grey coloured veins branch out from each orifice, and black blood continues to drip out of their mouths and bulging eyes.

This was a massacre.

She knows that Derek is accustomed to death, however, she's incredibly reluctant to bring Malia any closer. Even for Ophelia, this is a little too much. She ultimately decides that they all need to examine the crime scene to know exactly what they could be up against.

When Derek lays eyes on the bodies, she literally hears his heart drop. "What happened to them?" Malia asks in shock, unable to look away from the corpses.

Ophelia feels her heart ache for Derek. Even though he might not have known these werewolves directly, they still resided in the same town. In a sense, they were family. She walks over to her friends and takes a deep breath, a bad mistake. The veins trail down her cheeks involuntarily and Ophelia takes a second to tightly close her eyes to pull herself together. "You okay?" Derek asks worriedly.

She nods. "Yeah, sorry. I think... I think they were poisoned," she says.

Malia's eyebrows raise and she moves to stand closely beside her best friend. "That's great," she concludes. "If assassins with guns don't get you, then the ones with wolfsbane poison will. Or maybe the one with no mouth. Maybe we should all be running from Beacon Hills. Running for our lives. As fast as we can."

And Ophelia thinks she's right. In hindsight, they really should be. But she knows Scott well, well enough to know that he would never walk away, especially if he could prevent any more deaths from happening. So, neither would she.

As Malia walks away from them to return to the car, Ophelia's head snaps to the side when she hears something faint. A heartbeat. "Derek," she warns. And then a shaking, bloodstained hand reaches up from the piles of leaves. Both she and the Hale race over, Malia close behind.

All their eyes widen in shock at Braeden laid before them, barely conscious. Derek looks to his friend, panic seeping off his body. "Can you-"

She's already bitten into her wrist. Ophelia places her finger up to Braeden's lips, and right as she lets the drop of blood fall into her mouth, the woman falls unconscious.

After Derek tells them that he'd take Braeden back to his loft and let her rest, promising to inform them on whatever she says when she wakes up, the girls decide on walking home. Hand in hand, they move silently, caught up in their own masses of thoughts on what they had just discovered.

As soon as they hit the main road, a shrill ring tone disrupts the peacefulness. "Lyds!" Ophelia greets with a small smile. But then she notices how the banshee's breathing is shallow. She sounds like she's crying. "Hey, woah, what's wrong?"

"It's Meredith," she replies with a sob. "She's-she's dead." Malia and Ophelia lock eyes in shock. "And I think... I think I'm the one that drove her to it."

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨!! 🥰 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴