"𝒶𝓂 𝒾 𝓁ℴ𝓈𝒾𝓃' 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎, ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓉ℯ 𝒾'𝓂 𝑔ℴ𝓃ℯ?"

"Just remind me, why the hell aren't you allowed in New Orleans?"

Rebekah sighs, and refrains from rolling her eyes upon repeating the information to her younger sister for only the hundredth time during their stay in Beacon Hills. "I told you, they all think Hope is dead."

Ophelia downs the rest of her whiskey and slumps down on the sofa, grimacing as the baby begins to cry from the guest bedroom upstairs. Again. "And can you give me a time frame of when brother dearest will give up with the faked death ruse? Because the last time I checked, it's been four months, Bekah. Four, long months."

"Maybe when the witches don't want to sacrifice her."

"Ah," she replies as her legs cross over one another. "And care to explain to me why you decided to stay here, of all the places in the world?"

The Original vampire looks at the girl incredulously and shakes her head. "Are you that sick of me already?" When Ophelia playfully grins, a chuckle leaves her lips. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who offered-"

Ophelia rolls her eyes and leans her body into the older blonde's, her head resting onto Rebekah's slumped shoulder. "Nah, just kidding. It's been nice to have someone around. Have you heard from anyone, though?"

The woman softly sighs, her face falling as she thinks back to their family's extremely complicated situation in New Orleans. "It's not great. Nik and Hayley are doing... they're doing as well as can be expected. Everyone else is just trying to help wherever they can. 'Everyone' being who knows Hope's not actually dead."

"Well, you guys are welcome here as long as it takes." Ophelia's eyes narrow in thought, then her eyebrows furrow as she quickly takes back what she had just said. "Until a super strong witch breaks through the cloaking spell. Then I'm kicking you out."

In amusement, Rebekah raises her eyebrows as she plaits a loose strand of her sister's hair. "That's when you draw the line?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. I'm not dying for a kid I've known for a few months."

Both of them know the words to be a complete lie. Not only had Ophelia turned her humanity back on the minute she had been introduced to her niece, but in that very moment, she had made a silent promise to Niklaus and Hayley that she would protect Hope Mikaelson with everything she had. She would risk her life for the miracle baby, just like she would for any of her other siblings.

The pair are quickly interrupted from their chatter by a crash occurring in the back garden. Before Ophelia can even flinch to check it out, Rebekah beats her to it by speeding out the glass door. The girl's eyes widen in alarm as she hears the loud screams of terror, screams that she recognises belonging to one of her new friends. "Oh, fucking hell," she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation.

When she joins her sister outside, she is quickly met with panicked rambling. "Fi, what the hell is this? Who the hell is this? No, why the h-"

With narrowed eyes, Ophelia holds a hand up to cut him off, then giving her older sister a pointed look to stand back. The veins disappear from under Rebekah's eyes and her fangs return into her gums, although her body remains tense and on guard from the human's mere presence. "Stiles, what have I said about breaking into my house? You have a key to the front door for a reason, no?"

His jaw drops at her questions and quickly goes to defend himself. "What? I don't have a key to your house! Why would you think I have a key to your house?" The second she raises her eyebrows, he rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat whilst staring at a garden-bed full of blooming sunflowers, not wanting to look her in the eyes out of shame. "Okay, maybe I have a key to your house..."

Nodding in satisfaction at his corrected answer, Ophelia hums. "There it is. Now, what're you doing here at eleven at night? I saw you less than two hours ago."

Stiles nervously gulps and points a finger to the unknown woman glaring daggers at him, then glances back to his friend in question. "Want to tell me who the angry lady is first?"

"Answer her question," Rebekah snaps impatiently.

"Bex, relax," Ophelia mumbles in reassurance. "He's my friend. He couldn't hurt a fly, so don't worry about Hope." Her eyes roll at the way he looks taken aback in offence, and smiles as she stands on her toes to wrap an arm around her sister's shoulders. "This is my older sister, Rebekah."

Stiles slowly nods, his erratic heart calming down slightly upon hearing their relationship. "Right... Werewolf?"

Rebekah's eyes widen at the assumption and her nose scrunches up at the thought. "God, no. Why the bloody hell would you think that?"

"She's a vampire," Ophelia corrects with a chuckle. Stiles quickly nods as if he has just remembered the vampiric features that had been on display seconds earlier, just like he had seen on his friend countless times before.

"Original vampire," the woman adds.

"What the fuck is an 'Original'?" Stiles questions incredulously. "Are you, like, a super vampire or something?" He has no idea how right he is.

"Just as the name suggests," Rebekah tells him, boredom lacing her voice at how he has yet to catch on. "We're the Originals."

Stiles briefly stares at her in bewilderment, then finally turns back to Ophelia with his mouth open and closing at a loss for words. "Ho-Hold on. You're telling me that your family are the oldest vampires to ever exist?"

Ophelia nods, an amused smile adorning her face at his reaction. "Well, adopted family. But yes."

"Do they sparkle in the sun?"

Rebekah grimaces at him, and her eyes narrow as she looks up and down his body. "Do I look like I've jumped out of Twilight?"

Stiles' lips purse together and he slowly nods. "Worth a try," he mutters to himself, missing how the two females share an entertained smile. Snapping out of awe from the surprise revelation, Stiles hands a book out to the hybrid for her to take. "Right, I got the book you need. Figured I'd give it to you tonight instead of at school. You know, in case you want to read it ahead of time."

Ophelia's eyes scan across the cover and she heavily sighs at the pictures of pencils and mathematic equations. "I am definitely not going to read it ahead of time. This piece of shit will be lucky if I don't throw it into a fire to burn it, let alone read it." At Rebekah's chuckles, she growls as she spares a glance to her sister. Then looking back to Stiles, her blank face is replaced with a grateful smile. "Thanks, though. Oh, and next time, just use your key. Unless you want her to kill you."

The human nods without any hesitation, purposefully keeping his gaze off the vampire's intimidating figure. "Yep, yeah, that's probably the best idea. Um, see you tomorrow, Fi," he calls back before clumsily climbing over the white fence.

When the sound of an engine starting is heard in the distance, Rebekah loudly laughs. "He's your friend?"

"Fuck off."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Arriving to school the following morning, Ophelia grins widely as she finds her infamous car bay empty, reserved unofficially for her own Porsche; one of the many benefits of Jackson Whittemore having relocated to London. Walking along the path that lead to the set of stairs up ahead, she raises a hand to wave the minute she spots the familiar boy taking off his helmet, sitting atop of his new dirt bike. The grin quickly turns into a snicker at how Scott's proud and gleeful smile punctually drops when he notices the pair of expensive motorcycles parked next to him. She stifles her laugh as she walks up to him and clicks her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. "Hello, Scott McCall, version two-point-oh."

"Shut up," he grumbles to her.

Ophelia arches an eyebrow at his response and points to the pair of bikes next to them. "You know, I could just buy you one."

Scott looks at her pointedly as they walk together up the stairs, joining the groups of students entering the large building in the distance. "You mean, steal one."

She loudly scoffs and places a hand over her heart in mock offence. "You wound me. I'd compel someone for it, yes."

"So, you'd steal it," Scott repeats, his lips twitching up into a smile.

"Fine, you can stay with your shitty bike-"

"It's not shitty!"

Wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders, Stiles rolls his eyes as he steers the pair toward the double doors. "Well, hello to you lovely people." It takes him a few seconds to feel the pair of eyes burning holes in the side of his head, and the boy quickly retracts his arm off Ophelia. "Sorry," he mumbles.

Entering the loud corridor filled with rows of lockers, Scott hesitates for a few seconds, unsure whether to bring up what has been on his mind since the colossal failure that is last night. "So, um, I've been thinking-"

"Scott McCall, I swear to Satan, if you say you've been thinking about getting back together with Allison, I will kill you."

Stiles' eyebrows raise at the blonde's interruption, and he firmly presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing when the werewolf visibly pales at the threat. "I think she means it this time," he whispers to his best friend.

Ophelia's deadpanned expression is quickly swapped out with a grin, and she roughly pats his shoulder. "Kidding. Keep going."

The teenager blows out a breath of air in relief. "Right. Well, I want to ask Derek for help." When Stiles glances at him incredulously, Scott rolls his eyes. "For the tattoo," he clarifies.

Stiles holds up his hand in disbelief. "Let me get this straight. You wanna ask Derek for help? Why-why?"

Ophelia nods in agreement, giving Scott a look that makes him question even bringing it up in the first place. "Yeah, I can help you with that. It's not too hard..."

Scott stops walking to stare at her, his eyebrows raising when she glances back to him in confusion. "You'll make it painful."

"True," she answers after waiting for a few moments. "But so will Derek. It doesn't matter who does it."

"Back to the topic," Stiles interjects, waving his hands about so he can direct Scott back to answering his initial question. "Why Derek?"

"He's got the triskele tattooed on his back. So, he obviously knows how to do it without healing."

"Is it hot?"

The boys turn to look at Ophelia in annoyance, Stiles blinking slowly as he repeats the question in his head. "What?"

"His tattoo," she reiterates. "Is it hot?"

Stiles shakes his head quickly, grimacing to try and get rid of any possibility that his friend might find Derek Hale 'hot.' "God..." As the trio pass a nearby bulletin board, he points over to it whilst briefly locking eyes with Scott. "You've got a point, but doesn't he have his hands a little full right now?"

Ophelia frowns as she follows his line of sight, finding the two missing posters for Derek's Beta wolves: Boyd and Erica. The last time she had seen the two was in the Argent's basement, right as Chris had released them. A few days later when her emotions were back, she had learnt that nobody had seen them since, presuming they had continued with their initial plan to leave Beacon Hills.

"Look, these are the applications for the career advisor. I need them sorted." The teenagers share a look upon hearing the conversation in the nearby principal's office, and of course, decide to eavesdrop further out of curiosity. "And whatever happened to the library while I was gone, I want it cleared up!" The returning principal slowly brings out a large sword under his desk, more specifically, Gerard Argent's sword that had been used to slaughter multiple werewolves. "And what the hell is this?"

The group share another look of alarm, all their eyes wide as Stiles urgently murmurs, "Go, go, go..." Reaching the English classroom, Ophelia quickly darts across to the back of the classroom to plop herself behind one of the desks by the window. Taking the seat on the other side of her, Stiles rolls his eyes when she growls in warning at someone who attempts to sit in the empty seat saved for Lydia. "Oh, so, do we not care about keeping the supernatural a secret anymore?"

"You don't have the right to say that, Stiles."

"What? Why?"

"Because by my first day here, I had already figured out that you and Scott not only knew about werewolves, but Mc-obvious was one himself."

"Ah," he answers simply. "Point made."

A smile lifts at Ophelia's lips when the strawberry blonde walks into the classroom, and she quickly waves the girl over when they lock eyes. "Hey, Lyds!"

Lydia brightly smiles in greeting and drops her bag on the floor as she sits down next to her friend. "Hey, and thanks, Fi." She looks back up to the front of the classroom, her smile slightly faltering as Allison enters. Leaning over to the girl, she gives her a warning look. "Be nice," she murmurs. "Please."

"What?" Ophelia asks in disbelief. "I'm always nice."

Stiles' muffled laughter abruptly dies off when she growls once more under her breath, the male nodding frantically to show that he gets her point. "Sorry, sorry. Of course, you're always nice."

Looking around the classroom, wanting to find any seat open except for the one in the middle, Allison softly sighs in defeat and approaches Scott as she gestures to the empty desk in front of him. "Hey, um, is someone...?"

Lydia and Ophelia share a look, grimacing at how Scott stammers nervously. "No! No, no, no, no. No, it's all you-all yours. Uh, it's totally vacant."

"Bloody hell," Ophelia murmurs with a groan, covering her eyes with her hand to save herself from watching the train wreck occurring a few metres away from her.

Scott finally looks to the side to his friends, only for Stiles to give him a very fake smile and a thumbs up, and for Ophelia to applaud with a look on her face.

The hybrid's brows pinch together in confusion when not only her phone begins to buzz silently, but every other device in the class is set off from a text message being delivered. Turning on her phone, Ophelia leans over to Lydia to compare the message with her friend's. "Did you get the same...?"

"Exactly," she answers slowly.

"This is freaky as fuck," Ophelia declares.

"The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds and the tranquil waterway, leading to the uttermost ends of the earth, flowed somber under an overcast sky, seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness." Everyone's attention is moved to the woman that enters the classroom, perching herself on the desk at the front. "This is the last line to the first book we are going to read. It is also the last text you will receive in this class," she finishes, holding up her own phone with a smile. "Phones off, everyone."

Ophelia's eyes narrow as she studies the new English teacher. Not only does she not like the way the woman had somehow managed to collect the entire classes' phone numbers, but there is just something about her attitude that the girl doesn't like. So, naturally, she does the exact opposite to what she had been instructed to do. After all, what if something happened at home and Rebekah needed to get in contact?

After twenty minutes of working on a sheet that had been handed out, and Ophelia mindlessly doodling the coyote from the Preserve on a spare page in her notebook, the teacher now known as Miss Blake breaks the silence. "Mr McCall?"

Ophelia's eyes trail after Scott as he leaves the classroom, and after whisper yelling at Stiles to stop asking her to listen in to the conversation, she focuses her enhanced hearing in on the voices.

"Uh, I'm sure it's an emergency if your mother needs you to leave school, but I'm-"

"Well, what is she saying?" Stiles presses impatiently, his fingers drumming on his desk. "Is he in trouble?"

"If you shut up, maybe I'll find out," she snaps back.

"I am well aware of your attendance record. I don't wanna see you slip back into old habits," Miss Blake informs Scott.

Her eyebrows furrow as he mentions a word she doesn't know the meaning of, before he runs down the hallway. Upon finally turning back to Stiles waiting for her with an expectant look, Ophelia sighs. "His mum called for him, so he's leaving. Didn't say anything else."

The Stilinski nods, although he doesn't seem fully satisfied by the answer. "I wonder what she wants..."

Lydia rolls her eyes as she turns a page of the textbook, sparing a glance over to him as she retorts, "Maybe it's something private? Something his mother doesn't want you to know about?"

Ophelia quietly chuckles at his expression, but before Stiles can counter with something sarcastic, his gaze finds a bandage on Lydia's ankle. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?"

The hybrid quickly looks down and her eyes widen in concern. "Oh, shit, is it from the accident? Are you okay?"

Lydia slightly smiles at the overreaction. "I'm fine. And no, Prada bit me."

While Ophelia nods in understanding, Stiles stares at her incredulously. "Your dog?"

"No," Lydia replies. "My designer handbag. Yes, my dog," she corrects with a roll of her eyes.

"Has it ever bitten you before?"

"Stiles, the dog is a she," Ophelia whispers to him. He squints his eyes at her, scrunching up his face into a mocking look, only causing her to grin back.

Lydia looks between the two, before shaking her head slowly. "Mm-mm."

"Okay, what if it's, like, the same thing as the deer?" Stiles suggests, referencing to what happened last night. "You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"

"Meaning what?" Lydia queries, raising her eyebrows at him slightly. "There's gonna be an earthquake?"

"Or something. Maybe it means something's coming. Something bad."

Ophelia holds a finger up, a tut of disapproval leaving her lips. "No, don't say that. 'Cause whenever someone says that something bad actually happens. You just fucked us over, big time."

Lydia glances between her friends as she leans back in her chair. "It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Just as the girl starts to say three, a loud bang at the window causes everyone to either slightly flinch or jump in their seats, like Stiles. The splatter of dark red on the glass is immediately recognised as blood, and the class stares at it in shock. Looking back to her friend, Lydia's eyes widen in not fear, but alarm, at the veins that crawl under Ophelia's glowing red eyes, and she gently takes her hand to grab her attention. "Lia," she mutters urgently. "Eyes."

Ophelia quickly shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her nose, thankful for how willing her new friends are to help her with her desire for blood; human or not. Across the summer break, she had help from Elijah and Rebekah to help control her bloodlust, resulting in the comforting fact that she no longer desires to rip into the closest neck whenever she has the opportunity to do so. Not only did it make it easy to create friends or repair broken friendships, but it made it easier to stay in Beacon Hills overall. "Thanks," she quietly says in appreciation.

Stiles looks her way in concern but is more focused on how Miss Blake walks over to the window to find hundreds of birds flying straight towards the wall of glass belonging to their classroom. The woman dryly swallows and looks back to the students, before jumping when a bird hits the nearest window to her. One by one, birds continue to fly into the windows, like they are intentionally doing it. Ophelia's eyes widen when fractures begin to adorn the glass like artwork, and it only takes a few further seconds before it shatters, the animals now flying into the room with loud screeches.

"Get down! Everybody get down!"

Even with the screams of teenagers around her, Ophelia is worried about no one other than Lydia, Stiles, and Allison. As if it had become an instinct for her to protect her friends, she grabs Lydia and Stiles out of their chairs and drags them down to the floor, then leaning over so she is shielding their bodies from the sharp talons and beaks creating injuries. Ophelia feels her own skin tear into cuts then quickly knit back together, only leaving stains of blood as evidence that she had once been hurt. She can hear both of her friends' hearts beating wildly, and Lydia tightly clutches onto Ophelia's hand as if it's her lifeline.

Even despite their differences, Ophelia looks around for Allison, and a soft sigh of relief leaves her mouth upon finding the brunette safely hidden under a desk, ducking out the way of swerving birds.

Then suddenly, everything falls silent aside from another few thuds. Cautiously lifting her head up, Ophelia's eyes dart around as she finds all the birds on the classroom floor dead. As if someone had mumbled a spell and killed all of them within the span of a few seconds. "What the actual fuck just happened?"

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

While Stiles repeatedly spams Scott with messages informing him of the most recent events, Ophelia makes sure to thoroughly check Lydia's body for any injuries in a quieter corner of the trashed classroom. Finding a minor cut on the girl's forehead still bleeding, the hybrid lets her fangs elongate and she bites into her wrist, then holds it out. "Drink," she instructs firmly.

Lydia stares at the blood that pools on Ophelia's pale skin, then looks up to connect eyes with her, her mouth falling open in disbelief. "What?"

"Drink it," she repeats. "It'll heal you."

The strawberry blonde shakes her head with a grimace of disgust. "I'm not drinking your blood."

Ophelia rolls her eyes as the puncture wounds on her inner wrist begin to close up, but she doesn't force Lydia to do something she doesn't want to do willingly. "Fine, it's too late now anyways," she points out, holding up her now healed arm. Instead, she strides over to one of the paramedics that had been treating a student and steals the packet of alcohol wipes and a box of bandages. "We can do it the old-fashioned way."

Lydia quietly chuckles but falls silent as she winces at the stinging pain once the wipe makes contact with her cut. "Bitch, that hurts," she hisses.

"Which is why we can save all this trouble and-"

"I'm not drinking your blood! It's disgusting."

Ophelia makes a face as she gently puts a bandage onto her friend's wound, running her thumb over it to smooth the fabric out. "Yeah, well, it won't be so funny when it's a life-or-death situation instead."

Lydia's eyes widen. "You're expecting me to be in a life-or-death situation?"

"Love, you were in one last night. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Scott was in one right now." Ophelia sighs as she points to the bloodied birds covering the classroom, then over to Stiles who plucks a feather out of Miss Blake's hair. "That idiot's cursed us all, so, yeah. I'm expecting a hell of a lot more of them."

The girl's faint smile drops so quickly, Lydia's eyebrows furrow in concern. "Fi, are you okay?" She nervously licks her lips, and her eyes widen when she receives a low growl in response, then turns around to follow Ophelia's line of sight. "Oh," she whispers.

Staring right back at her and matching her challenging gaze, is Chris Argent. Instead of cowering back in fear like she knows he is probably expecting, the corners of Ophelia's lips move upward into a smirk as she raises her hands and wiggles her fingers at him. She watches Allison turn around to see why her father is suddenly so tense and try her hardest to hide the bubbling anger that surfaces when making eye contact. Based on how the brunette's fists clench and her cheeks tint a shade of red, suppressing her emotions isn't working out too well.

"Stop taunting them,"Lydia warns firmly. "You're only asking for trouble."

"Yeah, well-"

"No, not, 'yeah, well,' she mocks, a brow arching pointedly when the blonde juts out her bottom lip. "Just stay away from him, he's not worth your time."

Ophelia finally breaks her stare off the retired supernatural hunter, her gaze finding her friend's cautioning one. "Fine," she agrees. She giggles at the shock that appears on Lydia's face, and then she shrugs. "No, you're right. He's not worth my time."

Lydia's eyes narrow sceptically at how quickly she had agreed. "There's something about you right now that says you completely disagree with me."

Just as he manages to get hold of Scott, Stiles quickly runs over with his phone on speaker, sharing the conversation with the blonde who looks at him with raised eyebrows. The Martin nods with a small smile and leaves the pair be, heading over to Allison.

"What's-"

"We've got a serious problem at school," Stiles interrupts the werewolf. "Miss Blake's class-"

"Can you tell me about it later?" Scott replies, seeming distant as if he is distracted by something more important.

Ophelia blinks slowly, her eyes squinting at the phone held in Stiles' hands. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, no, I'm pretty sure this qualifies for immediate discussion," Stiles adds.

"Okay. Then, meet me at Derek's."

The pair in the classroom share a look of doubt, neither understanding why Scott would be with the other Alpha considering he was meant to be with his mother based off the earlier phone call. "What the fuck is happening today?" Ophelia questions to herself.

"Yuh huh," Stiles agrees with a frantic nod of his head. "What the hell are you doing at-"

"Just meet us here, okay?" Scott doesn't leave room for either of his friends to reply, instead hanging up the call as soon as the final word leaves his mouth.

"Asshole," Ophelia exclaims, drawing a few looks from nearby students, only flipping them off with her middle finger in response.

Stiles' eyes widen and he quickly pushes her hand down when spotting his father approaching them. "Hey, Dad. Can't talk, gotta go."

Noah Stilinski's eyebrows raise as he looks between his son and the girl who had quickly become someone he considered family, like Scott. "Uh, okay? You two all right?"

Ophelia quickly nods with something she hopes is a convincing smile. "All good, Sheriff."

The man chuckles as the smile turns into a scowl the second Stiles places his hands on her shoulders to guide her out of the classroom. "Bye, Dad!"

He shakes his head in amusement as he watches the two hurriedly walk out the classroom, Stiles removing his hands when he notices Ophelia's stone-cold glare. "Kids..."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Jumping out of her own car parked next to the Jeep after following Stiles due to not having any clue where the Hale house had been actually located, Ophelia pulls a face as she stares up at the large burnt down building that once resembled a home. "Does he actually live in this place?"

Although, Stiles doesn't respond, already up on the porch and opening the red front door. "Scott, you in here?"

Feeling as if someone is watching her, Ophelia's eyes dart around until they stop in between a few trees off to the side. She instantly smiles as she meets the beautiful grey eyes of the coyote, the animal's head tilted to the side as she watches the teenager walk up to the stairs of the house. "Hey, girl. I can't stay and chat, but I'll find you later, okay?"

With an incline of her head, the coyote spins around and darts away into the Preserve, leaving Ophelia to find her friends inside. She softly sighs and passes through the door frame, which is something she briefly frowns at, then continues following the voices to find Scott drawing something on the dust covered side table beside him.

At the footsteps that enter the room, Derek's head snaps up and his lips ever so slightly move upward at the sight of the hybrid. Though, to anyone other than Ophelia, he would deny that he had ever smiled. "Afternoon, sunshine," she calls out teasingly, grinning when the man's signature scowl returns. "And there it is." But her eyes widen in shock when she finds Isaac in a hospital gown, lying unconscious on a table. "What the fucking fuck have you both been doing?"

"He'll be fine," Derek reassures her. Over the last few months, both the Beta wolf and the hybrid had developed a rather close bond. Perhaps it was because they shared a similar unshared trauma, or maybe it was because they were some of the only ones who could actually tolerate Derek's presence. "He should be waking up soon."

She nods, trying to convince herself by the steady heartbeat that Isaac will indeed be just fine. "Okay, good to know." She glances over to Scott sitting in a chair with Stiles standing behind him, and her eyebrows shoot up in question. "Now, what the fuck have you been doing, and why the fuck are we here?" Stiles points a finger down to circles shown in the dust and Ophelia groans. "Oh, for fuck's sake..."

"Why is this so important to you?" Derek asks the younger werewolf.

"Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"

"To mark something," Stiles replies, leaning forward slightly. Ophelia chuckles and gives him a fist bump, only laughing louder when Derek looks behind to give him a look out of irritation. It doesn't wipe the proud smile off Stiles' face.

"Well, that's in Tahitian," Scott says. "In Samoan, it means 'open wound.'"

Ophelia closes her eyes and sighs through her nose, having an idea of where this conversation is going. "Oh, Satan, help me," she mumbles. Derek almost laughs.

"I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned eighteen. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward," Scott explains to the three.

"For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer," Scott responds to Derek, almost wincing at the reaction from Ophelia.

"Oh. My- Scott, are you kidding me?"

Scott ignores her, rolling his eyes slightly before continuing. "Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes... I was trying to give her the space she wants. Going on four months later... It still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."

"Like an open wound," Stiles finishes for him.

"Yeah," Scott confirms with a nod of his head.

Derek nods in understanding, before turning to the box on the table next to him and taking out something. "The pain's gonna be worse than you've ever felt," he warns.

"Oh, that's great," Stiles mutters sarcastically.

Ophelia chuckles. "I mean, I did warn you."

Derek's eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion as he turns to her, then looks back to Scott. "So, then why didn't you ask her to do it for you?"

Ophelia scrunches up her nose, lowering her voice to Scott's deeper tone to mock him. "I don't trust Ophelia. She'd make it far more painful than it needs to be-"

"It's going to be painful no matter what," Derek cuts her off to point out.

She throws her hands up into the air, loudly exclaiming, "That's exactly what I said!"

Scott sighs as he looks between the two Alphas, then nods confidently, trying to convince himself that he'll be able to tolerate it. "Do it."

Ophelia and Derek share a look, the former shrugging in agreement. The man holds up the torch he had retrieved from the box, then uses the spark lighter in his other hand to ignite a roaring flame. Stiles' eyes widen, and all colour quickly leaves his face. "Oh, wow. That's a- That's a lot for me. So, I'm gonna take that as my cue, I'm just gonna wait outside-"

Just as the boy passes him, Derek reaches out and places his hand on Stiles' chest, stopping him from taking another step. "Nope. You can help hold him down."

Ophelia gives Derek a look to remove his hand off her friend, then her eyes flick over to Stiles as she says, "I've got it, you go wait outside."

He sighs in relief, giving Scott a fist bump for good luck before going to wait in his Jeep. "Thank God... Yeah, okay, thanks."

Walking around so she is standing behind Scott, Ophelia places her hands firmly down onto her shoulders, giving him an innocent smile when he looks up to her. "This is gonna be fun, Scotty."

With his gaze moving between the flame and the mischievous glint in Ophelia's eyes, Scott takes a deep breath to try and reassure himself that everything will be fine. After a few seconds, he nods to Derek. The Hale takes hold of Scott's wrist, stretching his arm forward so he can access the area of his upper arm that is the desired tattoo placement. Locking eyes with the girl, she curtly nods. The second the flame licks at Scott's skin, the teenager automatically tries to wrench himself away from the searing heat, screams leaving his mouth from the excruciating pain running through his body.

Ophelia blows a strand of hair out of her eyes, looking incredibly bored by her job of pressing down on his shoulders to keep him in the chair. Although she is finding it quite amusing hearing Scott's cries of pain. After a few more seconds, they fade away, and her job is made considerably easier. "Well, finally," she announces. "That took far too long."

As she steps away from the chair and brushes her now sweaty palms on her jeans, Derek gives her an amused look as he moves the flame around Scott's arm. "You wanted him to pass out?"

She scoffs at the question. "Duh."

Throughout the next fifteen minutes that it would take Derek to finish the tattoo, Stiles had come inside to check upon his friend and then passed out, twice, and Ophelia had tried convincing the Hale to let her have control of the acetylene torch, to which he gave her a bored stare and an eye roll.

Finally, the teenage werewolf loudly gasps as his eyes snap open, immediately looking to his upper arm coated in sweat from the searing hot flame. Seeing the two thick, black bands that wrap around his arm, a smile beams onto his face as he finds the figures of his two friends and Derek waiting for him to wake up. "It worked."

"Yeah, no shit."

Scott rolls his eyes at Ophelia's comment and slips his long-sleeved shirt over his head after catching it from Stiles. "Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now," the Stilinski points out.

As the two boys slowly make their way out of the room that contains Isaac, Ophelia lingers behind, wanting to get a chance to talk to Derek. Hearing them immersed in their own conversation, she steps up beside him, waiting a few moments to ask what she had been wanting to the second she had stepped inside the charred ruins of the house. "So, you obviously no longer live here considering I could get in."

Derek turns to her, his eyebrows raising slightly as his gaze moves between herself and his unconscious Beta wolf. "Here I was thinking you wanted to know what happened earlier."

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong. I definitely do. Like, I want a whole ass explanation to why my friend looks very, very dead."

Just as Derek opens his mouth to explain that the council now owns the burnt home, both of their heads move in the direction of the two boys who have made their way out to the front porch. "You painted the door," Scott calls out.

Ophelia shrugs when Derek glances to her, and she misses the way his heart jumps a beat at Scott's observation. "I like the red, Der. It gives very, 'I'm a grumpy werewolf, fuck off my property,' vibes, you know?"

"Why'd you paint the door?"

"Go home, Scott," Derek tells him calmly, ignoring the way the blonde's eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

Scott turns back to the freshly painted door and runs his hand over it, ignoring the words that had just been uttered to him. "And why only one side?"

Ophelia folds her arms over her chest in interest when his claws flick out and he draws a nail down the painted wood. "Scott," Derek calls out in warning, giving the boy a final look as he silently pleads for him to not continue what he had started.

"What the fuck have you done now?" Derek rolls his eyes at her and sighs in exasperation when she quickly walks off to stand by Stiles. Her green eyes slowly widen as she watches the matte paint peel off from the vigorous scraping of Scott's claws and begin to reveal something underneath. "No fucking way," she murmurs when Scott finally stands back, breathing heavily.

The symbol that has been carved into the door is similar to that of a triskele, the only difference being that instead of the fluid, curvy lines, this one is rigid and unmoving. To Ophelia, it looks like someone has poorly attempted to graffiti a 'work of art' onto Derek's front door.

"The birds at the school, and the deer last night," Scott begins slowly. "Just like the night I got trampled by the deer when I got bit by the Alpha." He looks over to Stiles who is beginning to piece things together in his head, then to an emotionless Ophelia who continues to vacantly stare at the symbol. "How many are there?"

Derek sighs again as he looks between the three, making the decision that he might as well just explain everything. "A pack of them. An Alpha pack," he reveals.

Stiles' eyes widen. "All of them? How the hell does that even work?"

"I hear there's some kind of leader. He's called Deucalion. We know they have Boyd and Erica. Peter, Isaac and I have been looking for him over the last four months."

Scott takes a step closer to the man, his eyebrows raised in question. "Let's say you find them. How do you even deal with an Alpha pack?"

"With all the help I can get," Derek replies simply, looking between the younger werewolf and the silent hybrid.

Noticing the lack of brutally honest, bubbly, and opinionated chatter, Stiles glances to Ophelia in slight concern. "Hey, you okay?"

She quickly blinks and snaps out of the slight daze she had found herself in; maybe it could be defined as experiencing déjà vu. "Yeah, fine. I'm just wondering why the pocket full of sunshine here has the exact same art I had a few weeks ago."

Derek's eyes widen in alarm as he steps closer to the girl still staring at the door. "What?"

"Do you seriously want me to repeat myself?" She doesn't seem to notice the look all three males share whilst she continues to ramble her thoughts. "Like, I get it if you have a passion for art and all, great. Fully encourage it. But going 'round putting it on people's homes without their bloody consent? That's when I draw the line." Sighing through her nose at the silence she receives, Ophelia turns around to look across the trio in annoyance. "Okay, someone has to say something. Please."

"Where is she? Where's the girl?"

Ophelia's annoyance is quickly pushed to the side as she hears the voice of Isaac, who has sat up from his position on the table he had been lying on, now wide awake. "Damn, someone's been busy-" She chuckles when Stiles elbows her side telling her to shut up, but her grin drops as she discovers the fear hidden behind the werewolf's eyes. "Oh."

"What girl?"

𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!!

𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘬𝘢𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰!

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳,
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹