A Midnight Encounter
Jane sprinted through the woods, the cool night air rushing against her skin. Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from exhilaration. The taste of victory still lingered on her lips, the scent of blood fresh in her memory.
She was free.
But suddenly—
A shift in the air. A presence. Heavy, controlled footsteps behind her. A low, steady breath.
She stopped.
"That was quite a show you put on back there."
A deep, familiar voice. Smooth, but edged with something unreadable.
Jane tensed, her muscles coiled, ready for a fight. Slowly, she turned, her sharp gaze locking onto the figure emerging from the shadows.
Derek Hale.
He stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Dark eyes watched her, assessing, calculating. The moonlight cut sharp angles across his face, highlighting the quiet strength he carried.
"Did you enjoy it?" Jane asked, smirking as if she wasn't just drenched in blood minutes ago.
Derek didn't answer right away. His gaze flickered, unreadable, before he replied in a steady tone.
"Impressive… but reckless."
Jane chuckled, unfazed. "So… who are you?"
"Derek Hale," he answered simply.
"Derek Hale…" she repeated, rolling the name over her tongue, tasting it.
It was familiar. She had heard it before—whispers of a Hale who had survived the fire, a name that carried both legacy and tragedy.
"And who are you?" Derek asked, his voice steady.
Jane smirked, tilting her head slightly.
"Jane. Jane Anuevo."
Something flickered in Derek's eyes—recognition, maybe interest. His gaze narrowed slightly.
"Anuevo… that's a Spanish name."
Jane chuckled, amused. "You're a smart one, aren't you?"
Derek's expression didn't change, though something in his eyes hinted at quiet amusement. But just as quickly, it was gone.
"I've heard about you," he said. "You're one of Deucalion's betas. I presume?"
Jane crossed her arms, watching him carefully. "That's right."
Derek nodded, his expression thoughtful.
"Deucalion sure knows how to pick his betas."
Jane stepped forward, closing the space between them just slightly, her golden eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Now my turn to ask—did you kill the lights?"
Derek didn't blink. He met her gaze, steady and unbothered.
"Maybe it was me… maybe it wasn't."
"Why do you care?"
Jane smirked, something dangerous flashing in her expression.
"Because," she murmured, "if it was you, then I owe you one."
Derek didn't move. His stance remained firm, his gaze unwavering. But Jane could see it—the way his muscles were tensed, prepared for anything. He didn't trust her. Smart man.
"You owe me one, huh?" Derek echoed, his voice calm but edged with skepticism.
Jane smirked, folding her arms over her chest. "If it was you who cut the power, then yeah. I was about to break out on my own, but you saved me the trouble."
"That so?" Derek raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with quiet amusement.
"Mhm," Jane hummed. "You didn't answer the question, though. Was it you?"
"Maybe," Derek said, his expression unreadable.
"Maybe?" Jane tilted her head. "You like being mysterious, don't you?"
"You're one to talk."
She chuckled, stepping closer, testing the space between them. He didn't flinch. Good.
"So what now, Derek Hale?" she asked, her voice dipping into something almost playful. "You gonna try and stop me? Bring me in? Or are you just here to make sure I don't go on another killing spree?"
"Depends," Derek said evenly. "Do I need to?"
Jane smirked, but there was something sharp in her expression now. A challenge. A dare.
"I don't kill for fun," she said. "But I don't leave debts unpaid either. Those hunters? They got what they deserved."
"And Henry?"
Her smirk widened, wicked and satisfied. "Oh, I think he got the worst of it."
Derek exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening slightly. He wasn't disgusted, but there was something in his eyes—something unreadable. Jane couldn't tell if it was disapproval or understanding. Maybe both.
"You're not exactly proving you're different from them," he said after a moment.
"They tortured me, Derek." Her voice was softer now, but not weak. Never weak. "I just made sure they never got the chance to do it again."
Derek held her gaze, searching. Maybe for a lie. Maybe for a sliver of remorse. He wouldn't find one.
"So, are you here to judge me?" Jane asked, tilting her head. "Or is there another reason you're lurking around in the woods like some brooding guardian angel?"
"I was curious," Derek admitted. "Wanted to see what kind of person Deucalion's beta really is."
"And?"
"Still figuring that out."
Jane chuckled, genuinely amused. "Well, take your time. I'm not going anywhere. Not yet, anyway."
Derek studied her a moment longer, then—
"If you're sticking around Beacon Hills, you're going to run into me again."
"Looking forward to it," Jane said, flashing a sharp grin.
Derek gave her one last lingering glance before turning away, disappearing into the shadows of the forest as silently as he had come.
Jane watched him go, her grin slowly fading as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Derek Hale, huh?" she muttered to herself, rolling the name over her tongue again.
Something told her this wouldn't be their last encounter.
At that moment, as the adrenaline settled and the night stretched before her, Jane understood.
Deucalion's way.
For so long, she had followed him without question, trusting his vision, his power. But now—after the hunters, after Henry, after the quiet, knowing look Derek Hale had given her—she saw it clearly.
Power wasn't just about dominance. It was about control. About knowing when to strike and when to hold back. The way Deucalion had taught her, it wasn't just about survival; it was about making sure no one ever put you in chains again. It was about making sure the world understood that strength wasn't something to be feared—it was something to be respected.
And she had earned that respect tonight.
She smirked to herself.
"I get it now," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The lesson had been painful, but now, she was stronger for it.
Deucalion had always told her that understanding came through experience. And tonight, she had learned.
____________________________________________________
START OF A PARTNERSHIP
A month had passed since their first encounter. And now, Jane stood at Derek Hale's loft, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Good morning, Derek."
Derek turned, visibly surprised but quick to school his expression. His sharp eyes locked onto her.
"It's you. How did you find me?"
Jane rolled her eyes, leaning casually against the doorframe.
"I'm not an idiot."
Derek raised an unimpressed eyebrow. She chuckled.
"Wasn't hard. I followed your scent."
"Of course you did," Derek deadpanned, his tone flat.
Jane smirked, pushing off the wall as she wandered through the loft, her gaze sweeping over the open space.
"Nice place," she remarked, her voice light but observant.
Derek didn't respond, watching her carefully. He still wasn't sure why she was here.
Then Jane turned to him, her expression serious.
"I need your help, Derek."
His eyebrows lifted slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.
"My help? For what?"
Jane sighed, running a hand through her hair before meeting his gaze.
"I need you to get me to Europe."
Derek blinked, caught off guard.
"Europe?" He repeated, disbelief in his voice. "You want me to help you get to Europe?"
"That's what I said," Jane replied, nodding.
Derek studied her, his expression skeptical.
"Why? What's in Europe that's so important you can't just hop on a plane?"
"Family," Jane said simply.
Something shifted in Derek's expression. He wasn't expecting that. His arms uncrossed slightly, his stance less guarded.
"Family?" he echoed, his voice softer. "Are they in trouble?"
Jane shrugged, looking away for a moment.
"Let's just say I miss them."
Derek nodded slowly. He understood that feeling—the pull of family, the ache of being apart. But that didn't mean he wasn't still skeptical.
"And why come to me? Why not ask Deucalion?"
Jane smirked, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"I left the pack."
Derek's brows furrowed in genuine surprise.
"You left?"
"That's what I said," she repeated, her tone casual, but something flickered behind her eyes.
"Why?"
"It's complicated," Jane admitted with a shrug. "So… are you going to help me or not?"
Derek sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling helping her would lead to a lot more trouble than he wanted. But there was something about the way she asked—not desperate, not pleading. Just… determined.
And he could respect that.
"Let's say I do help," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "What's in it for me?"
Jane's smirk returned, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
"You drive a hard bargain, don't you?"
Derek cocked an eyebrow, his own smirk barely forming.
"I don't do favors for free."
Jane stepped closer, closing the distance between them just enough to be challenging.
"Then let's make it worth your while."
Derek's smirk faded, his expression shifting to something more wary.
"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
"I'll be your partner." Jane stated, her tone confident. "I know how the Argents see you. I can help. You've seen what I can do."
Derek's expression turned unreadable, but his arms crossed a little tighter over his chest.
"You... want to be my partner?"
"You asked what's in it for you," Jane pointed out. "I'm offering you something useful."
Derek studied her, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"You're suggesting we work together?"
Jane nodded, never breaking eye contact.
"That's right."
Derek scoffed, shaking his head slightly.
"And I'm just supposed to trust you?"
Jane smirked again, stepping even closer. She was only a few feet from him now, her gaze steady and sharp.
"I have nothing to gain from betraying you."
Derek let out a quiet exhale, studying her one last time before sighing in resignation.
"Partners, then."
A satisfied smile tugged at Jane's lips.
"Glad we understand each other."
"When do you want to leave?" Derek asked, resigned but already committed.
"Sooner the better," Jane replied.
Derek gave her a look—half amused, half annoyed.
"Of course you do."
_____________________________________________________
OFF TO EUROPE
The steady hum of the airport filled the air as Derek and Jane moved through the crowds, their steps in sync as they approached their gate. Overhead, a robotic voice called out boarding announcements in different languages, the mix of voices blending into the background noise of rolling suitcases and hurried conversations.
Derek shot Jane a sidelong glance, still not entirely sure why he had agreed to this. Traveling across the world with someone he barely knew? That wasn't something he usually did.
"So... where in Europe are we going?" he finally asked, his voice low.
Jane, ever the enigma, simply shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Honestly? I don't know the exact place. But I've got my family's scent. Once we land, I'll track it."
Derek sighed. "Great. So we're flying blind."
"Oh, relax," Jane smirked. "Isn't this exciting? Two wolves, heading into the unknown, ready for whatever comes our way?"
"No," Derek deadpanned. "I like having a plan."
"Well, too bad," she shot back. "Because I don't."
Derek exhaled sharply but didn't argue. There was no point—Jane was clearly the type to operate on instinct rather than strategy.
An attendant called their boarding group, and they handed over their tickets before making their way down the jet bridge.
Inside the plane, the air was thick with the mingling scents of humans, recycled air, and faint traces of anxiety. Jane moved quickly, claiming the window seat and stretching out, much to Derek's annoyance.
"You could at least pretend to be professional about this," he muttered, shoving his bag into the overhead compartment before taking the seat beside her.
Jane smirked, kicking her feet up slightly before fastening her seatbelt. "Professional? We're not on a mission, Derek. This is a personal trip."
"It's still a risk," he countered, scanning the nearby passengers as if expecting trouble. "Flying into a foreign country without a solid plan? Not exactly my idea of a good time."
Jane rested her head against the seat, a lazy grin playing on her lips. "Oh, come on. You're a werewolf, I'm a werewolf. Worst-case scenario? We get into a fight, we heal. Easy."
"You make it sound like a vacation," Derek grumbled.
"Maybe it is," she teased, glancing at him. "Ever been to Europe before?"
"Yeah," Derek said, his expression darkening slightly. "Not for a vacation."
Jane caught the shift in his tone, her smirk faltering slightly. "Sounds like there's a story there."
Derek didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stared straight ahead, his jaw tight, as if debating whether to answer.
Before he could say anything, the flight attendants began their safety demonstration. Jane took the hint and let the subject drop—for now.
As the plane taxied down the runway, a strange sense of anticipation settled in her chest. She was finally going back. After all these years, she was returning to the place she had left behind.
The engines roared to life, the force pushing them back into their seats as the plane lifted into the sky.
For the first time in years, Jane felt like she was heading toward something that truly mattered.
___________________________________________________
The steady hum of the airplane's engines filled the cabin, a white noise that lulled the passengers into a quiet stupor. The lights were dimmed, and the occasional rustling of pages or muffled conversations were the only sounds that broke the silence.
Derek sat rigidly in his seat, arms crossed as he gazed out the window. He wasn't the type to relax on flights—not when he was heading into an uncertain situation with someone as unpredictable as Jane.
For the past hour, she had been surprisingly quiet. No teasing remarks, no reckless ideas—just silence. That alone was enough to make Derek glance her way.
"Hey… you okay?"
No response.
He frowned slightly and shifted to check on her, only for Jane to lean in, resting her head against his shoulder without a second thought.
Derek stiffened.
"H-hey…" he muttered under his breath, barely above a whisper. "Great. You're asleep."
He exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the warmth of her against him. Jane, usually so sharp and guarded, looked different like this—peaceful, almost vulnerable. Her breathing was steady, her lashes resting lightly against her cheeks.
Derek stared ahead, unmoving, as if shifting even an inch might break the moment.
For a guy who prided himself on keeping his distance, he was suddenly very aware of how close they were.
He could smell the faintest trace of her scent—wild, unchained, and laced with something almost familiar. A reminder that, for all her bravado, Jane had been running for a long time.
"Figures," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.
He should wake her up. Tell her to move. But… he didn't.
Instead, he let out a quiet sigh and leaned back against his seat, letting her stay.
Maybe just for a little while.
____________________________________________________
ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND
The plane jolted slightly as it began its descent, the glow of the early morning sun peeking through the clouds outside the window. The London skyline was faintly visible in the distance, shrouded in a misty haze. The soft chime of the overhead signal woke some of the passengers, but Jane remained asleep, her head still resting against Derek's shoulder.
Derek sighed, glancing down at her. He debated waking her up but hesitated. There was something strangely peaceful about seeing her like this—completely unguarded, free of the sharp edges she usually carried.
But as the plane hit the tarmac with a firm thud, he decided enough was enough.
"Jane." He nudged her lightly. "It's time, wake up."
She stirred sluggishly, letting out a sleepy groan as she lifted her head, rubbing her eyes.
"Mm… are we there?" she murmured groggily, blinking at the bright cabin lights.
Derek rolled his eyes. "Yeah, almost. You slept the entire flight."
Jane yawned, stretching her arms lazily. "Damn. Guess I was tired..."
Then, as if something clicked in her half-awake mind, she looked at him, her expression slightly suspicious.
"Wait… did I sleep on your shoulder?"
Derek nodded, smirking. "Yup. Slept like a baby."
Jane raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a knowing grin. "And you didn't wake me up?"
Derek simply shrugged. "Figured you could use the rest."
Jane's smirk deepened, tilting her head. "Or maybe… you enjoyed it."
Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance. "Oh sure, best part of my day."
Jane chuckled, voice still thick with sleep. "Well, now I know. Next time, I'll make it official—you can be my personal pillow."
Derek gave her a flat look, but the corner of his lips twitched ever so slightly. "Great. Just what I wanted."
Before Jane could fire back another teasing remark, the flight attendant's voice crackled through the speakers, announcing their arrival at Heathrow Airport. The plane rumbled as it slowed to a stop on the runway.
Jane exhaled, rolling her shoulders as she grabbed her bag. "Alright then, partner. Welcome to England."
---
Inside Heathrow Airport
The two of them stepped off the plane and into the sprawling terminal of London Heathrow. The airport was alive with movement—travelers rushing past, announcements crackling over the PA system, and the ever-present hum of conversation filling the air.
Derek glanced around, scanning the crowds. "So, what's the plan? You said you'd track your family by scent, right?"
Jane nodded, inhaling deeply as she let the unfamiliar scents of London fill her senses. The mix of jet fuel, coffee, damp air, and thousands of different people swirled in her mind, but beneath it all, she was searching for something familiar.
"Yeah… it's faint, but I can pick up something. We need to get out of here first."
Derek nodded. "Alright. Let's grab our bags and find a place to start."
As they moved toward baggage claim, Jane couldn't help but smirk.
"You know, Derek... This might be the start of a very interesting adventure."
Derek huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm already regretting it."
Jane chuckled, nudging him playfully as they stepped forward, disappearing into the bustling crowd of London.
The airport was a buzz of activity as Jane and Derek made their way through the throng of travelers.
Jane tugged the handkerchief from her pocket again, bringing it to her nose. She sniffed deeply, her nostrils flaring as she locked onto the scent. Her eyes closed for a brief moment as she let the familiar scent fill her senses.
"Got it. Looks like they're in the country after all." She spoke with a quiet certainty, but Derek could tell there was a mix of relief and unease in her voice.
Derek, glancing at her, nodded. "Alright. So we're on the right track. Any idea where we're headed from here?"
Jane shook her head, her senses sharp as she continued filtering through the clutter of smells around them. The air was thick with the usual airport blend: coffee, food, perfume, and the ever-present hum of jet fuel. But beneath it, faint but persistent, she could pick up the faintest traces of the scent she was tracking.
"Not yet," she muttered. "We need to get out of here. Too many smells here to focus."
Derek gave a low grunt of agreement, his eyes scanning the crowd. This was a chance—a hunch—but they had to trust it for now. There was no other lead.
"Alright then. Lead the way."
Without another word, Jane tucked the handkerchief back into her pocket and moved toward the exit, slipping through the bustling crowds with ease. Derek fell in step behind her, his eyes continuously flicking around them, ever watchful for danger.
As they stepped outside the terminal, Jane inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air hit her lungs. The scent was still faint, but it was definitely stronger out here, away from the overwhelming pollution of the airport. The cool, damp air of London hit her, but it wasn't enough to mask the familiar traces she was searching for.
"This way," she said, her voice steady and filled with determination as she turned down a quieter street.
Derek followed close behind, his posture tense, his instincts heightened. Despite being in a strange city, his senses were sharp as ever, alert to any threat. As they moved, the hum of London's hustle faded into the background, replaced by the muffled sounds of their footsteps on the wet pavement.
"How long have they been here?" Derek asked, his voice low, but carrying a subtle edge of curiosity.
Jane glanced at him, her eyes focused on the path ahead. "Well, I don't know. Months, maybe? They probably moved after I died."
Derek's pace slowed for a fraction of a second as the words hit him. He looked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Wait. You're telling me… your family thinks you're dead?"
Jane nodded, her face unreadable as she kept walking. "Yeah, it's complicated. I'll tell you about it next time. Partner."
Derek shot her a sidelong glance, a mixture of concern and curiosity on his face. He wanted to push for more, but he could tell this wasn't something she was ready to talk about yet.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice tinged with resignation. "But next time, no more secrets. You owe me that much."
Jane's lips quirked into a sly smile as she continued walking. "Oh? You demanding now? Fine. Next time, you'll get the full story. But don't expect everything to be sunshine and rainbows."
Just as she was about to say something else, a familiar, unpleasant scent wafted into the air. Jane's posture stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she stopped in her tracks.
"You caught that?" she asked, her voice suddenly serious.
Derek's expression immediately hardened as his senses honed in on the unfamiliar odor. He nodded sharply. "Yeah, I caught it. We're not alone."
Jane sighed, her gaze scanning the surroundings. "Of course. This is a crowded place. Any idea who it is?"
Derek took a deep breath, letting the scent guide him. He was used to these instincts by now, the heightened awareness that came with being a werewolf. "Male. Probably young, but not inexperienced. I don't think this is a random encounter."
Jane's eyes darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It's never a coincidence, is it?"
Derek exhaled sharply as he kept his eyes moving through the crowd, trying to pin down the exact location of their stalker. "The scent is fresh. Whoever it is, they're close."
Jane's shoulders tensed, her fingers subtly flexing, ready for a fight if necessary. "Alright, let's not make this easy for them."
Derek shifted, his body moving closer to hers, standing protectively in front of her. He kept his eyes scanning the crowd, his muscles tight with anticipation. "Let's get to higher ground. We'll have a better vantage point."
Jane nodded, falling into step beside him as they began moving with purpose, their surroundings no longer just a blur of strangers and noise. There was something—someone—watching them, and they weren't going to make it easy for him.
They reached the vantage point on the rooftop, surveying the bustling streets below. Jane stood at the edge, her eyes scanning the crowd with focused intent. Derek stood beside her, his expression tense as he watched the people move through the busy London streets.
"Okay," Jane spoke, her voice cutting through the otherwise quiet tension, "in a million people, any idea who it might be, Derek?"
Derek shook his head, his gaze never leaving the crowd as he took in every movement below. "Not sure. Whoever it is, they're staying hidden. But they're definitely nearby."
As they surveyed the crowd, something caught Derek's attention. A young male, late twenties, stood out from the sea of people. He was agitated, his posture stiff as he nervously scanned his surroundings. His eyes darted from side to side, as if looking for something or someone—his anxiety palpable even from this distance.
"There," Derek said, his voice low, nodding toward the young man. "That's our guy."
Jane leaned in slightly, sniffing the air, her senses sharp as ever. She paused for a moment, focusing on the scent as it blended into the chaos of the crowd.
"That's definitely him," she confirmed, her voice cold and steady.
Derek's eyes narrowed, his mind already working. The tension in the air was thick, and he could feel it in his gut. "He's on edge. Probably feels us too."
Before either of them could act, Derek suddenly cursed under his breath. "Shit. Tonight's the full moon, right?"
Jane swore under her breath as well, her face hardening with realization. "Yeah… tonight's the full moon. This could get ugly quick."
Derek's jaw clenched as he turned back to the young man below. The weight of the situation was hitting him hard. "If he's a werewolf, he could hurt a lot of people tonight. We can't let that happen."
Jane's expression grew even harder, determination flooding her veins. She didn't hesitate. "We need to stop him, then. Let's go."
Without waiting for another moment, she made a move to descend, but Derek grabbed her arm, halting her before she could act.
"Wait," Derek said urgently, his grip firm. "We need a plan. We can't just charge at him."
Jane sighed, knowing he was right. She gave him a quick nod, the weight of the decision settling over her like a shadow. "Fine. Got a plan?"
Derek scanned the crowd once more, his eyes sharp as he calculated their next move. "We need to follow him. We need to make sure he doesn't do something stupid."
Jane nodded, understanding immediately. They couldn't act recklessly—this wasn't just any rogue werewolf. This was someone who might cause chaos if left unchecked.
"Alright," she said, her voice cold and controlled. "Let's keep our distance. We'll watch him discreetly."
The two of them dropped down from the rooftop, blending seamlessly into the crowd. Their movements were calculated, purposeful—making sure they didn't give away their presence to the rogue werewolf below. They stayed close enough to keep him in sight but far enough not to draw attention. The night was falling quickly, and the streets were becoming more crowded with evening commuters.
Derek's mind raced as they followed him, the weight of the full moon's threat hanging heavily in the air.
"If this guy loses control..." Derek's voice was low, only meant for Jane's ears. "...we're going to need to stop him before he hurts someone."
Jane glanced over at him, her eyes sharp as she considered their options. They couldn't afford to underestimate this rogue. Not with the full moon so close.
The chase was on.
As they followed the young man through the winding streets, Jane's senses were torn between keeping an eye on him and the ever-growing scent of her family. The familiar trace of their presence in the air was becoming stronger with each step, a faint tug pulling her forward, but it was laced with an undercurrent of worry.
Derek noticed her distracted look as she kept her gaze focused ahead, her expression tightening. Her usual sharpness seemed to waver for a brief moment, and he couldn't help but glance at her.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low but concerned. "You seem distracted."
Jane quickly snapped out of her thoughts, shaking her head in an attempt to push past the concern that was gnawing at her. She refocused on the young man, but the unease was still evident in her features.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered, but there was a flicker of worry in her voice. "It's just… the scent of my family. It's getting stronger. And it's starting to make me worried."
Derek's brow furrowed as he processed her words. His gaze flickered to her, then back to the rogue werewolf ahead of them. His mind raced with the implications of what she was saying.
"Wait," Derek said, his eyes widening with realization. "You mean the young man is heading towards your family's scent?"
Jane's expression darkened, her eyes narrowing in frustration as she nodded, the gravity of the situation settling over her like a storm.
"Looks like it," she said quietly, her voice tinged with concern. "If the guy is a werewolf, and he's heading toward my family…" She trailed off, the implications of her words clear as she exhaled sharply. "This could get catastrophic."
Derek's jaw tightened, his mind working quickly to come up with a plan of action. The tension in the air was palpable, the streets growing quieter as night fell and the chaos of the day began to subside. Time was running out.
"We need to move fast," Derek muttered, his gaze scanning the surroundings. "We can't let this escalate. Not with your family so close."
Jane nodded, the worry in her eyes sharpening her focus as they pressed on, closing the distance between them and the rogue. Whatever happened next, they had to act quickly. Her family's safety—and possibly much more—was at stake.
They followed the rogue werewolf for hours, the air around them thick with tension as the sun dipped below the horizon, the darkness swallowing the streets. Jane's senses were on high alert, the scent of her family still lingering strongly in the air, but there was something unsettling about the way the rogue's scent kept drifting in and out. They had to be getting close.
By the time the last sliver of sunlight disappeared, they found themselves at an abandoned construction site on the outskirts of town. The scent of her family was almost overwhelming now, and Jane's stomach tightened with anxiety. She and Derek exchanged a glance, both sensing the gravity of the situation.
"We lost him?" Jane asked, her voice tight with frustration.
Derek scanned the area, his eyes flicking from shadow to shadow, as he exhaled sharply. The place was eerily silent, save for the distant sound of rustling debris.
"Looks like it," he replied, his voice gruff. "But we're close to the scent… let's keep a look out."
They moved deeper into the construction site, their footsteps light but urgent, the air still thick with the fading traces of her family's scent. It wasn't just the young man they were worried about now; it was the growing sense that something bigger was about to unfold.
Then, a sound cut through the silence—gravel crunching under heavy footsteps, followed by the unmistakable sound of struggling.
Jane's heart raced as she motioned for Derek to stop. The two of them froze, listening. There was no mistaking it now—the young man was undergoing his transformation. His growls echoed in the open space.
"It's him," Jane muttered, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows.
The young man's figure began to take shape in the dim light, his body contorting, muscles rippling as he shifted. His growls grew louder, guttural, filling the air with raw, untamed fury. He was no longer human—he was fully a werewolf.
Derek stepped forward, cautiously extending his hand in a gesture of calm. His voice was steady, but the tension in it was palpable.
"Stay with us," he said. "It's going to be okay."
The young man's wild eyes locked onto them, his fangs bared in a snarl as he crouched, ready to pounce. His form was monstrous now, fur rippling over his clenched muscles, his primal instincts controlling every move.
"Easy, we're not here to hurt you," Derek said, his voice dropping an octave, trying to connect with the wolf within. "Just relax, focus on me. You don't want to do this."
But the young man didn't respond. He lunged forward with a ferocity that Derek hadn't expected, his growls deafening in the quiet night.
Jane looked at Derek, her eyes wide with concern as she took a step back. "Uhh… Derek? It's not working."
Derek clenched his jaw, seeing the wild look in the young man's eyes. The wolf was in full control now, his mind lost to the primal instincts of the beast. There was no reasoning with him. Derek's posture shifted, readying himself for whatever came next.
"Yeah… I can see that." Derek muttered, more to himself than to Jane. "We need to be ready."
The young man charged, and the two of them instantly dropped into defensive stances, preparing for the fight they knew was inevitable.
The young werewolf was a blur of motion, a storm of claws and teeth lashing out with brutal force. His growls filled the night air as he relentlessly charged toward Derek and Jane. They had to move fast, reacting with instincts honed from years of training and experience.
Derek and Jane managed to dodge the first few strikes, their bodies moving fluidly, each anticipating the other's next move. But the werewolf's fury was unrelenting. His wild eyes never wavered from them as he attempted to tear them apart.
"Ready, Derek?" Jane called, her breath quick, her eyes locked on the shifting form of the werewolf.
Derek's jaw clenched, his stance steady. He nodded sharply. "Ready. Let's try to subdue him first. We don't want to kill him."
Without another word, they launched forward together. The fight was a dance, each of them moving in sync with perfect timing. Derek used his strength and size to block the werewolf's claws, while Jane's agility allowed her to evade and strike from unexpected angles.
The young werewolf roared in defiance, his fur bristling as he fought back with savage fury. "Grrrahhh!"
The sound of his roar sent a wave of tension through the air, and Derek felt his own frustration mounting as he dodged another swipe. His eyes narrowed on the werewolf's movements, trying to predict his next attack.
"Damn it," Derek muttered, narrowly avoiding a strike to his side. "He's strong."
Jane, too, could feel the pressure mounting. The werewolf wasn't giving them an inch. Every time they thought they had him cornered, he broke free with a renewed burst of strength, launching himself at them again.
"We need to end this quickly," Jane said, sweat running down her face as she dodged another vicious lunge. "We're not going to last much longer."
Derek nodded in agreement. They were both tiring, and the werewolf seemed to be gaining in strength, fed by the primal rage inside him.
Just as they thought they had the upper hand, the rogue werewolf made a sudden, unpredictable move. With a swift motion, he leapt backwards, using his powerful hind legs to propel himself away from them.
In an instant, the werewolf was a mere blur, disappearing into the darkness of the night. Derek and Jane stood there, staring after him, their chests heaving with heavy breaths.
Jane cursed under her breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her muscles ached, but there was no time to rest. "Shit. He got away."
Derek clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. He shook his head, exhaling sharply. "Damn it. He's gone."
They stood in the aftermath, the quiet of the construction site now oddly deafening. The fight had ended, but the danger was far from over. Derek turned to Jane, his voice tight with concern. "We need to find him, before he does any more damage."
Jane nodded, her expression hardening. She could still feel the presence of her family's scent in the air, and the rogue werewolf's path seemed to be leading them toward something much bigger than either of them had expected.
"Let's go," she said, determination hardening her voice. "We can't let him slip away again."
The full moon hung high in the sky, casting its eerie silver light across the abandoned construction site. The two werewolves could feel its pull, the primal urge to shift growing stronger with each passing second. But both Derek and Jane fought it, pushing back the instinct to transform, to give in to the animal within.
They stood there, breathing heavily, their adrenaline still pumping from the fight. The tension was palpable, but they were both professionals—seasoned enough to keep control.
Derek glanced at Jane, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "I'm impressed you can control yourself, huh?"
Jane let out a bitter laugh, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Yeah, barely. It's not easy, you know? The full moon makes it harder to resist. But... you get used to it."
Derek's gaze softened slightly as he observed her struggle. His tone was more serious now, almost as if he was genuinely curious. "So who's your anchor?"
Jane's lips curled into a small smile, but there was a faint sadness in her eyes as she thought about her family. "Ah, my younger brother. He helps me stay grounded. What about you?"
Derek smirked proudly, his posture relaxed despite the tension still buzzing in the air. "Myself," he said simply, his confidence unwavering.
Jane raised an eyebrow, her expression mixed with surprise and a touch of envy. "Really? You're able to control yourself just by sheer willpower? That's... impressive."
Derek shrugged, his focus shifting back to the task at hand as he scanned their surroundings. "It's not that hard. You just need to focus and stay in control. Takes practice."
Jane nodded, her mind quickly shifting gears. The fight had ended, but their pursuit was far from over. "Right. Now, let's go find that wolf."
Derek's eyes flickered with renewed determination. He glanced at her one last time before nodding in agreement. "Alright. We need to find him before he hurts anybody. Let's move."
Together, they left the construction site behind, their senses heightened, alert for any signs of the rogue werewolf. As the night deepened, the shadows seemed to close in around them, but neither of them faltered. The pull of the moon was strong, but their resolve was stronger.
___________________________________________________
MEANWHILE
The scent of fresh food filled the air, a warm and comforting aroma that wrapped around the family home like a familiar embrace. The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling, pots clanging, and the occasional laughter from the Garcia family.
Javi grinned as he served the food, proud of his culinary skills. "So, papa, go on—taste my cooking." He winked, teasing his father.
Javier Sr., always the doting father, smiled warmly, his hands still a little flour-dusted from preparing the meal. "Alright, let's see what you've got."
He picked up his spoon and brought a steaming bite to his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the flavors as his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "Mmm, this is delicious, mijo! You've got a gift."
Javi puffed his chest proudly, a grin spreading across his face. "Of course, why wouldn't I? I'm the best."
Javier Sr. chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, you're still learning, cabrón. But... I'm impressed."
Javi rolled his eyes, trying to act modest but clearly enjoying the praise. "Please, I could've cooked this blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back."
Alyana, Javi's mother, laughed softly from the counter, shaking her head in amusement. "Shush, you, don't get so full of yourself."
Javi shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "What can I say? I have a natural talent. It's like I was born to cook."
Their laughter faded abruptly when a sudden sound broke the peaceful atmosphere—a heavy, unnatural thud came from the front door, followed by a low growl that sent a shiver down their spines.
Alyana's face paled, and her voice trembled slightly as she turned to her husband. "Who could that be at this hour?"
Javier Sr.'s face immediately hardened, concern flashing across his features. He exchanged a tense glance with Alyana before rising from the table, his movements quick and purposeful. "Stay here," he ordered, his voice low but firm. "I'll check."
As Javier Sr. moved toward the front door, Javi's eyes widened with alarm. His heart raced as the unsettling growl echoed through the house, deep and guttural.
When his father opened the door, they were met with the sight of a werewolf standing in the threshold. Its eyes glowed a menacing yellow, its body tense, muscles coiled like a predator ready to pounce. It growled again, a deep, throaty sound that made the air feel thick with danger.
Javier Sr. reacted instantly, his protective instincts kicking in. He turned to Javi, his voice sharp and commanding. "Go, Javi—hide in the closet. Don't come out until I say so."
Javi froze for a moment, fear creeping up his spine. He looked at his father, uncertainty clouding his eyes, but he knew better than to argue. This wasn't the time for rebellion. His father's tone left no room for negotiation.
"Y-yes, father," Javi stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
He backed away from the scene, his mind racing, but his body obeyed the order. He dashed toward the closet, heart pounding in his chest, and slammed the door behind him. The muffled sounds of his father's voice, the growls, and the tension outside all swirled in his mind as he tried to keep quiet, trying to steady his breath.
The safety of the closet, however, felt like a farce, knowing that something far more dangerous lurked just outside.
Javi's heart pounded in his chest as he huddled in the small, dark closet, the sound of the struggle outside growing louder with each passing second. The walls felt like they were closing in on him as he tried desperately to control his breathing, afraid that the slightest noise might betray his hiding place.
Through the thin door of the closet, he could hear his father's voice, strained but steady, as he continued to shout orders. "Keep hiding, mijo! Don't you come out!"
Javi's fingers gripped the edges of his shirt, his knuckles white from the pressure. His throat tightened with emotion, and tears burned at the back of his eyes, but he bit his lip, willing himself to stay silent. His father's voice was the only thing anchoring him to reality. He couldn't move. He couldn't help. He had to stay hidden.
The sounds from outside were unbearable. Furniture crashing to the floor, the guttural growls of the werewolf, the desperation in his parents' voices—his mother's faint, pleading cry mixed with the ferocious snarls of the beast. Javi squeezed his eyes shut, his hands trembling, as the fear of losing them overwhelmed him.
Suddenly, a sickening noise filled the air—flesh tearing, a wet, violent sound that sent a shiver down his spine. Javi covered his mouth with his hands, choking back a sob as he heard the sound of blood splattering onto the floor. The noises of struggle intensified, the growls growing louder and more enraged. And then—nothing.
For a brief, haunting moment, the house was eerily quiet.
Javi held his breath, praying, hoping that it was over. But then he heard it again—the werewolf's growl, deep and savage, as if mocking the screams of his parents.
The terror grew inside him, filling every part of his body with dread. He wanted to scream, to rush out and help them, but his father's command echoed in his mind. Stay hidden. Don't come out.
Javi clutched his stomach as nausea hit him, but he stayed put. The blood still lingered in his mind, the horrific sounds of his family's torment like an unshakable echo. He was helpless. There was nothing he could do.
___________________________________________________
Outside, Jane and Derek arrived at the house, their senses sharp as they followed the young man's scent, which had been growing stronger. But as they approached, Jane's focus shifted. A familiar scent—one she hadn't expected—hit her like a freight train. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat.
Jane froze, her hand instinctively flying to her mouth, her body trembling. The scent—her family's scent—was unmistakable. But it was tainted with something else. Something horrible. Her eyes scanned the house, panic quickly replacing the shock on her face.
"No... no, no, no, no, please," Jane whispered under her breath, her voice shaking with disbelief and fear. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she could barely breathe as the weight of the realization sank in. This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not now.*
Derek looked at Jane, his expression turning serious as he followed her gaze toward the house. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it only heightened his own unease. But he didn't need to ask. He knew.
"What is it, Jane?" he asked softly, stepping closer to her, his voice low but urgent.
Jane shook her head, her gaze fixed on the house, as if she could somehow will the horror away. Her heart was racing, her mind scrambling for answers, but the fear of what might be inside paralyzed her. She swallowed hard, trying to keep herself together.
"It's... it's my family," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she struggled to keep from breaking down. Her hand clenched into a fist, her nails digging into her palm as she fought to steady herself. "They're in there... but something's wrong. I—I can't sense them like I should."
Derek's jaw tightened. The worry in Jane's voice was enough to make him realize that whatever was happening inside that house was far more dangerous than they had expected.
"Stay calm," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "We need to go in, now. We'll get them out, Jane. You're not alone in this."
But Jane didn't move. She just stood there, staring at the house as if frozen, the weight of the situation too much to bear. The air around them seemed heavy with dread, and Derek could feel it too. Whatever had happened to her family, it wasn't just an ordinary attack.
Derek gently placed a hand on Jane's shoulder, trying to rouse her from her frozen state. When she flinched away, her eyes wide and tear-filled, he realized he couldn't let her shut down. Not now.
"Jane," he said firmly, his voice full of urgency, "Look at me. We need to go in there and save your family. You can't freeze up on me now."
Jane took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Her mind was racing, overwhelmed by the shock of seeing her parents like that and the fear of what was happening to them. She nodded at Derek, struggling to get her emotions under control, knowing they couldn't afford to waste any more time.
"Okay... alright," she managed to say, her voice shaky but determined. "Let's go."
They stepped inside, the sight that greeted them was more horrifying than Jane had anticipated. Her parents lay on the floor, lifeless, their bodies bruised and bloody. The rogue werewolf, still in its primal form, was licking its wounds in a grotesque display, oblivious to their arrival.
Jane's heart skipped a beat as she took in the scene, the horror of it flooding her system. Anger, grief, and helplessness all mixed into one crushing wave. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her parents—her whole world—was now shattered in front of her.
"No..." she whispered, her voice cracking.
Derek's voice broke through her despair. "Stop right there!"
The werewolf didn't hesitate, growling in response, before launching itself at the window with a forceful leap, shattering the glass and escaping into the night.
Jane ran toward the window in panic, desperation in her voice. "No! Damn it! We have to go after him!"
Derek grabbed her arm, pulling her back gently but firmly. "Stay here. Your family needs you."
Jane's gaze snapped to him, urgency in every inch of her body. She shook her head, grabbing his wrist with surprising strength. "No, I'm going with you. I'm not leaving them like this."
Derek hesitated, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with concern. "Jane, your family needs you. You can't risk losing yourself in this fight. I'll deal with the werewolf. You stay here and take care of them."
Jane's face softened for a brief moment, torn by the decision. She was on the edge of breaking, but she had to remain strong for them. Still, something was missing—Javi. Her brother wasn't in sight, and panic welled up in her chest. She scanned the room frantically, her eyes wild, searching for any sign of him.
Then, a faint noise from the back of the house caught her attention. A soft creak, followed by a whisper of movement. Her heart skipped.
"Javi?" she called, her voice trembling but filled with hope and fear. She looked back at Derek, her expression a mixture of terror and relief. "He's still here. I— I need to find him."
Derek's face tightened, but he nodded. His voice was low and commanding. "Go. But be careful. I'll handle the werewolf."
Jane didn't wait another second. She dashed through the house, every step frantic, her mind consumed by the thought of her brother. The silence around her felt deafening as she called his name, desperate for any sign of him.
With trembling hands, Jane reached for the door, her breath catching in her throat as she slowly turned the handle. Her heart pounded in her chest, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. She hesitated for a moment, before pushing the door open just enough to peek inside.
Inside, huddled in the corner, was Javi. His wide, fearful eyes met hers, and his face was pale, drained by the shock and terror of what he had just witnessed. He looked at her as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.
"Javi..." Jane whispered, her voice barely audible, her emotions a tangled mess of relief and fear. She stepped inside, rushing to his side, her movements quick and urgent.
Javi's eyes widened in recognition, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Jane?"
Jane crouched down, her eyes welling with tears, her heart aching as she reached out to touch him. She brushed a strand of hair from his face, trying to steady her own breath. Seeing him alive, breathing, was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"I thought you died... but how?" Javi's voice was fragile, cracking with the weight of confusion and relief.
Jane shook her head, her chest tight as she pulled him into a tight, protective embrace. The sense of fear that had gripped her heart when she didn't find him was slowly easing, replaced by the overwhelming relief of having him in her arms again. "It's a long story, Javi. But you're safe now. I swear."
Javi buried his face into her shoulder, holding onto her tightly as the last of the terror left his body. He was still just a scared teenager, clinging to the comfort of someone who had always been there for him.
For a moment, Jane closed her eyes, holding him in silence, feeling the weight of the decision she was about to make. She had always promised to protect him, and right now, that meant more than anything. With a heavy heart, she slowly drew her hand up to his head, her fingers beginning to glow with the familiar warmth of her ability. She was about to do something she never wanted to do.
"I'm sorry, Javi." Her voice cracked with guilt as she whispered the words. "This is the only way I can keep you safe."
As her hand pressed lightly to his forehead, Javi's body relaxed, the tension in his frame fading. His eyes fluttered closed, and within moments, he was fast asleep, the weight of the memories of the supernatural world slipping away from his mind, replaced by a blank slate.
Her father coughed, his voice weak but still filled with warmth. "Jane..."
Jane's breath hitched. She turned sharply, eyes wide in disbelief. He was alive.
"Papi!" She scrambled to his side, dropping to her knees beside him. Her hands trembled as she took in his battered form—bloodied, broken, but still breathing. A flicker of hope sparked in her chest.*
Javier Sr. managed a weak smile. "You're alive?"
She nodded frantically, tears welling in her eyes as she took his hand, gripping it like an anchor. "I'm here, Papi. I'm here. You're going to be okay."
Javier Sr. chuckled, though it came out rough and strained. "Funny… as you can see… I'm dying." He wheezed, his chest rising with difficulty. Then, with a flicker of concern, he asked, "Your mama?"
Jane's throat tightened. She shook her head, gripping his hand even tighter, as if holding him could keep him from slipping away. "No, don't say that. You're going to make it, Papi. You have to. Mama is... she's okay."
He gave her a knowing look, his eyes soft yet filled with the weight of understanding. Slowly, he reached up, his bloodied fingers brushing against her cheek, leaving a faint smear as he wiped away her tears.
"Silly girl," he whispered, his voice strained but laced with love. "I'm not blind… I know."
Jane bit her lip, the sob threatening to break free. Her shoulders trembled as she shook her head. "Papi, please, you have to hold on. I— I'm sorry I stayed in the shadows. I should've come back sooner."
Javier Sr. gave a weak chuckle, his thumb brushing against her knuckles as his grip slowly weakened. "Don't blame yourself, cariño. I understand. Your mother understands too..." He took a shuddering breath. "Just… take care of your brother."
Jane sobbed, nodding desperately as she pressed his hand to her forehead. "I will, I will. I promise."
His eyes softened, the last of his strength fading, but his voice was steady as he whispered, "I love you, Jane. I love all of you."
Then, with one final breath, his body went still.
Jane froze, her heart shattering as the silence settled in. The weight of his words crashed down on her, crushing and absolute. A strangled sob tore from her throat as she clung to him, her forehead pressed against his chest.
"I love you too, Papi."
Jane took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to look away from her father's lifeless body. With trembling hands, she dialed the police, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. After giving the necessary details, she hung up, staring at the phone for a moment.
Then, with one final glance at her family, she turned away. It was time for revenge.
---
Meanwhile, atop the rooftops near Big Ben…
Derek and the rogue werewolf moved like shadows across the rooftops, the chase relentless. Wind howled through the cityscape, mixing with the sound of claws scraping against metal and stone. The rogue was fast, desperate, but Derek was faster.
With a well-timed leap, Derek launched himself forward, tackling the rogue mid-air. They crashed onto the rooftop, rolling before Derek pinned the man beneath him. A deep, guttural growl rumbled from Derek's chest as his claws dug into the rogue's arms.
"Be a human, not a wolf—damn it!" Derek snarled, his glowing blue eyes locking onto the rogue's feral yellow ones.*
The rogue thrashed, growling, but something in Derek's voice made him hesitate. His breath came in ragged pants as his body trembled, bones snapping, fur retreating. Within moments, the wild beast was gone, leaving behind a terrified, sweat-drenched man beneath Derek's grip.
Derek didn't let up. His fangs remained bared as he leaned closer, voice low and dangerous. "Not until you understand what you've done."
The man's eyes darted around, still filled with defiance despite his fear. "Why should I?" he spat, attempting to twist free.
Derek slammed him back down with ease, his grip unyielding. "Because if you don't, things will get a lot worse for you." His voice was calm, but the threat in it was unmistakable.
The man scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "It's their fault. They were human. I just did what our kind is meant to do."
Derek's jaw clenched, fury simmering beneath the surface. His fingers tightened around the rogue's collar, yanking him closer. "That's bullshit, and you know it. They're people—just like we are. What gives you the right?"
The man smirked, eyes flicking up to meet Derek's. "That look in your eyes… blue eyes." His smirk widened. "You're no different from me."
Derek stiffened, his breath hitching for just a second. "What the hell are you talking about?"
The rogue chuckled darkly, amusement flickering in his expression despite his situation. "You've killed before. Just like me. The only difference? I don't pretend to be something I'm not. You still cling to your humanity."
Derek's grip faltered, just for a second—but it was enough for doubt to creep in.
The young man snarled, his lips curling back to reveal sharp canines. "You think I'm going to beg for mercy?"
Derek's eyes remained locked onto his, cold and unyielding. "Mercy?" He scoffed. "That would mean you regret what you did."
*The rogue let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Regret?" He tilted his head mockingly. "I regret nothing. The hunt, the kill… it's what we are."
Derek's grip on the man's throat tightened, his claws pressing just enough to make the rogue's breath hitch. "No," Derek growled, his voice low and dangerous. "It's what you chose to be."
The young man struggled, but Derek didn't budge. The weight of his rage, of his experience, bore down on the rogue like an immovable force.
*"You're not special," Derek continued, his blue eyes burning with restrained fury. "You're not powerful. You're just another killer who thinks being a wolf means being a monster."
The rogue spat blood onto the rooftop, his yellow eyes defiant. "And what are you? Some self-righteous alpha wannabe? Preaching control like it makes you better?"
Derek leaned in closer, his voice a whisper laced with steel. "I don't need to be better than you. I just need to stop you."
And with that, he slammed the rogue down hard, knocking the fight out of him.
Jane arrived, her expression unreadable, but her voice was steady and cold. "Have you caught him?"
Derek didn't answer right away. He turned to her, taking in the tightness in her stance, the storm brewing behind her eyes. He could feel it—the weight of her grief, her fury, simmering just beneath the surface.
The rogue let out a breathy chuckle despite his pinned position, blood smeared across his smirking lips. "Oh, so now there's two of you?" He scoffed, his voice hoarse but defiant. "What, you here to finish me off?"
Jane stepped forward, slow and deliberate, her gaze fixed on him like a predator sizing up its prey. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. "You killed them," she said, her tone eerily calm, but the way it trembled betrayed the raw emotion behind it. "My family. You butchered them like they were nothing."
The rogue tilted his head, amusement flickering in his yellow eyes. "They were nothing."
Derek barely had time to move before Jane struck.
In a blur, she seized the rogue by the throat, hoisting him slightly off the ground with a strength fueled by pure, unrelenting rage.
*"Say that again," she hissed, her claws digging into his skin.
The rogue gasped, his breath coming in shallow, ragged spurts. But even as he choked, a cruel smile spread across his face. "Go on," he rasped. "Prove me right."
Jane's grip tightened, her claws piercing deeper, but her expression remained cold, steady. "You messed with the wrong family."
Without hesitation, she drove her claws straight through his chest.
The young man coughed, blood trickling from his lips. His body trembled from the fatal wound Jane had inflicted. He looked up at her, pain and disbelief flickering across his face.
"Damn you…" he rasped, his breath shallow. "You actually did it."
Jane leaned in, her eyes cold, unwavering. "I told you," she said, voice devoid of pity. "You messed with the wrong family. You deserve this."
For a moment, the rogue's expression shifted. The arrogance drained from his face, replaced by something else—fear. Desperation.
"Please… please, look—I'm just a kid," he gasped, his voice cracking. "I—I realize it now. Please!"
Jane's fingers twitched, her grip loosening just slightly. Her expression hardened, but there was the faintest hesitation in her stance.
"Why should I?" she demanded, her tone edged with bitterness.
The rogue's breaths came in ragged gasps, his panic mounting. His hands weakly grasped at Jane's arm, his strength failing.
"Please!" he pleaded. "I'll do anything. Just… let me live. Please!"
Derek stepped forward, his eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight as he looked down at the rogue with cold detachment.
"Look at you," Derek muttered, his voice laced with contempt. "Begging now, after what you did. After the lives you took."
His jaw clenched, and he cast a glance at Jane. She met his gaze, the silent understanding passing between them like an unspoken agreement.
"Tonight is the full moon," Derek continued, his voice low and final. "You had your chance. You wasted it."
Jane exhaled, her face unreadable as she nodded. The rogue's pleading turned to a choked gasp as they both looked at him and, in unison, delivered the final blow.
"You're nothing."
The rogue's body went still, his final breath slipping away into the cold night air. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of what they had just done settling between them.
Jane stood frozen for a moment, staring down at the lifeless body. Her hands were still shaking—not from regret, but from the raw, unfiltered rage still coursing through her veins. It was done. The monster that destroyed her family was dead. But why didn't she feel satisfied?
Derek exhaled through his nose, stepping back and glancing at Jane. He knew that look—the hollow emptiness that came after vengeance. He'd been there before.
"It's over," he said quietly.
Jane clenched her jaw, her breathing uneven. She wiped her bloodied hands on her jacket, but the stain—both literal and metaphorical—remained.
"No," she murmured. "It's never over."
Derek didn't argue. He knew revenge never brought true peace. He also knew she had to come to terms with that herself.
The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, the authorities responding to the chaos. They needed to get out of there before they were seen. Derek reached out, touching Jane's arm gently to pull her back to reality.
"We need to go."
Jane took a final look at the body, inhaled sharply, and nodded.
"Yeah."
And with that, they disappeared into the night, leaving behind the past—but carrying its weight with them.
A week had passed, and Javi stood in front of his parents' graves, the cool wind brushing against his face. In his grip, a small bouquet of flowers. He knelt, placing them gently on the gravestone, his fingers lingering on the cool stone as he swallowed the lump in his throat. The pain still felt fresh, like an open wound that refused to heal.
He reached up, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face this, but what choice did he have?
"Excuse me, kid. Are you Javi Garcia?"
Javi turned, startled by the voice behind him. A man in uniform stood there—tall, broad-shouldered, with a kind but weary expression. His badge read 'Hershel.'
Javi straightened, quickly wiping his face as he met the man's gaze. "Yeah. That's me."
Deputy Hershel extended a hand. "I'm with the local police. I was assigned to your family's case."
Javi hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand, his grip firm despite the ache in his chest. "Did you find the guy who did it?"
Hershel exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Well… turns out, according to our investigation, your family was attacked by a drug addict. We didn't catch him, though. He was already dead when we found him."
Javi's brows furrowed. Something about this didn't sit right. "Dead? How?"
"Mauled by a wild animal," Hershel said, his tone steady, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. "It's… strange, I know. But that's what we found."
Javi stiffened. His gut twisted uncomfortably. It didn't make sense. A drug addict kills his parents… then just happens to get mauled by an animal?
"That's…" Javi hesitated before scoffing slightly. "Well, serves him right."
Hershel gave him a knowing look. He'd heard that kind of bitterness before, the kind born from grief and anger. But before he could respond, Javi cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh… I mean, that's… tragic. May he rest in peace, or whatever."
Hershel chuckled softly, patting Javi's shoulder. "No need to backpedal, kid. I get it. He got what was coming to him."
Javi offered a small, forced smile. He didn't know what to think anymore. "Thanks. For, uh… everything."
Hershel nodded, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping back. "If you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
Javi watched as the deputy walked away, his words lingering in the cold air. He turned back to the gravestone, his fingers tracing over the carved letters of his parents' names. Something wasn't right. And deep down, he knew this wasn't over.
From a distance, Jane and Derek watched as Javi stood by his parents' graves, the weight of his loss evident in every movement. Jane's eyes were still watery, but she quickly wiped at them, exhaling softly.
"Thanks, Derek. I owe you a lot."
Derek shook his head, a small, reassuring smile forming on his lips. "No need to thank me, Jane. We look out for each other. Always have, always will."
Jane let out a quiet chuckle, despite the ache in her chest. "Right… I almost forgot about our partnership."
Derek smirked, his tone light but affectionate. "Yeah, I almost don't regret it."
Jane rolled her eyes, but there was warmth behind it. "Please. You know you'd be miserable without me."
Derek chuckled before his expression sobered. His gaze drifted back to Javi, then back to Jane. "You sure you're not going to show yourself to him?"
Jane exhaled, her fingers tightening into fists before she forced herself to relax. "Even if I wanted to… you know I can't."
Derek nodded, his jaw tightening slightly. He understood. He didn't like it, but he understood.
"How are you holding up?" he asked after a moment, his voice softer.
Jane shrugged, keeping her expression neutral, though her eyes betrayed her emotions. "I'm managing. It's just… hard. Seeing him like this. Seeing them like this."
Derek placed a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. "You did the right thing. You saved his life, even if it meant erasing his memories."
Jane's gaze stayed on Javi, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Yeah… even if it meant that."
Derek hesitated for a moment, then added, "I also took care of his scholarship. A four-year deal. And, of course, the anonymous sender."
Jane turned to him, surprise flickering across her face before it melted into something softer—gratitude, sadness, maybe even relief. "You did that?"
Derek shrugged like it was nothing, but there was a quiet understanding in his eyes.
"Thank you," Jane murmured. "Really. I couldn't have done any of this without you."
---
Later that day, Javi sat at his desk, idly scrolling through his emails when something caught his eye. His breath hitched as he clicked on the message.
Congratulations! You have been awarded a four-year scholarship to The School of Shadows.
Javi's heart pounded as he read over the email again, disbelief washing over him. A full four-year deal? That meant he'd be spending his entire sophomore year—maybe even longer—at one of the most prestigious institutions he'd ever known.
"No way..." he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.
He had applied on a whim, never actually expecting to get in. But now? This changed everything.
Just as Javi was still processing the shock of the scholarship, a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Who the hell…?" he muttered, standing up and making his way over.
When he opened the door, his eyebrows shot up.
A man stood before him, dressed head to toe in a classic Sherlock Holmes-style uniform—long trench coat, deerstalker hat, and even a cane tucked under one arm. His expression was unreadable, but his sharp eyes studied Javi with clear purpose.
"Javier García?" the man asked in a crisp, British accent.
Javi blinked. "Uh... yeah?"
The man gave a curt nod before stepping aside, revealing a sleek black car parked at the curb. "I'm here to take you to The School of Shadows. Gather your things. We leave immediately."
Javi stared at him, processing the absurdity of the moment.
"Wait—what? Who even are you?"
"You may call me Mr. Graves," the man replied smoothly, adjusting his gloves. "Your presence has been requested. And as you now belong to the School of Shadows, you don't keep them waiting."
Javi hesitated, glancing back inside his home. His gut told him this was a turning point, a moment where everything in his life would change. He took a deep breath, then nodded.
"Alright, give me five minutes."
Javi grabbed his bag—he hadn't even unpacked most of his things since returning home. He glanced around the house one last time, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. This place, his parents, his old life—it was all gone. And now, he was being thrown into something entirely unknown.
With a deep breath, he slung the bag over his shoulder and stepped outside, locking the door behind him.
"Good," Mr. Graves said, checking his watch. "Punctuality will serve you well at the School of Shadows. Come along."
Javi followed, eyeing the car warily. It was sleek, black, and expensive-looking—clearly meant for someone with money and power. As Mr. Graves opened the door, Javi hesitated.
"This isn't some weird kidnapping thing, right?"
*Mr. Graves smirked. "Would it matter if it was?"
Javi shot him a look but got into the car anyway. As the door shut, the vehicle took off smoothly, gliding through the streets with an eerie silence. The further they drove, the more Javi felt like he was leaving his past behind. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
---
Hours passed in near silence, the only sounds being the soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional tap of Mr. Graves' fingers against the armrest.
"Where exactly is this place?" Javi finally asked, breaking the quiet.
"Far from here," Graves replied cryptically. "Hidden from those who don't belong."
"Cool. That totally doesn't sound cult-y."
*Mr. Graves chuckled, but there was something sharp about it. "You'll find that The School of Shadows is unlike any institution you've encountered before. It will push you, test you, mold you into something greater—if you survive it."
"If I survive it?" Javi repeated, sitting up slightly. "You know, most schools don't have a 'try not to die' policy."
"Most schools aren't The School of Shadows."
Javi frowned but said nothing. The sense of mystery was growing thicker, but he had a feeling he wouldn't get many answers until they arrived.
---
Hours later, as the car passed through thick mist, an enormous gothic structure loomed in the distance. The School of Shadows stood like a fortress against the night sky—dark spires stretching toward the clouds, lanterns flickering with an eerie glow. The atmosphere was heavy, almost suffocating, and Javi felt something shift in the air as they crossed onto the grounds.
The car came to a stop, and Mr. Graves opened the door for him.
"Welcome to The School of Shadows, Mr. García," he said with a slight bow. "Your new home."
Javi stepped out, staring up at the intimidating building. Something about it felt… familiar. Like a whisper in the back of his mind, a memory just out of reach.
And then, the massive iron gates groaned open, as if the school itself had been waiting for him.
Derek and Jane stood at a distance, watching as Javi made his way toward the mysterious figure in the Sherlock uniform. The city lights reflected off Jane's face, casting a soft glow that highlighted the sorrow in her eyes.
Derek glanced at her, his expression unreadable, but there was an unspoken understanding between them.
"Well," he said, breaking the silence, "our job here is done. We should head back to Beacon Hills."
Jane nodded, her gaze still lingering on Javi as he disappeared from view. She let out a soft exhale. "Thanks again, Derek."
Derek scoffed lightly, his voice low. "Stop thanking me. I just did what I thought needed to be done."
Jane raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. "Or you actually care for me?"
Derek rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smile on his face, a small warmth in his usual cold exterior. "Hmph. I'm just giving importance to this partnership."
Jane's playful gaze deepened, her tone light but with a hint of sincerity. "Wait, didn't you say you cared for me last time?"
Derek sighed, his gaze softening just a bit as he gave her a sideways glance. "Fine. Now let's go, shall we?"
Jane chuckled, a small, knowing smile on her face as she shot him one last glance. "Finally, the Hale has surrendered."
Derek rolled his eyes, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he muttered under his breath. "Shut up."
Jane sighed, her gaze returning to the direction where Javi had vanished. She stood still for a moment, a quiet sense of finality in her eyes, before she whispered softly, almost as if to herself, "Until we meet again, Javi."
---
Back in Beacon Hills
Months later, Jane and Derek returned to Beacon Hills.
They found themselves at their usual spot in the preserve, sitting beneath the familiar shade of an old tree. The quiet rustling of the leaves filled the silence between them.
Derek leaned back against the tree, arms crossed. "So, what's your plan now?"
Jane shrugged, her gaze fixed on the fading horizon. "I don't know. I guess... try to move on?" She exhaled softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But it's not easy. Every time I think I'm starting to feel okay, the memories come crashing back."
Derek nodded, understanding the weight behind her words. "Yeah... it takes time."
Jane let out a small chuckle, though it lacked humor. "Maybe I should start over. Forget, even for a little while, that I'm a werewolf."
Derek turned to her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Jane hesitated, then sighed, as if saying it out loud made it feel more real. "I always wanted to be a nurse. Since I was a kid. Maybe... maybe it's not too late."
Derek studied her for a moment, then gave her a rare, genuine smile. "You'd make a great nurse."
Jane glanced at him, warmth creeping into her expression. "You think so?"
He smirked slightly. "Yeah. You're stubborn enough to make it happen."
She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "Oh, is that a compliment?"
Derek shrugged, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Just stating the obvious."
Jane scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're such a cocky bastard."
Derek chuckled, his smirk deepening. "And you love it."
Jane gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "Oh my god. The mighty Derek Hale just smiled because of me. Does that mean I'm special?"
Derek rolled his eyes but didn't stop smiling. "No, it means you're being a smartass."
Jane grinned playfully. "So all I have to do is be a smartass to see that rare, beautiful smile of yours?"
Then silence. They could hear nothing but the distant wind, the rustling leaves... and each other's heartbeats.
Their eyes locked. The air between them thickened with an intensity neither of them had ever fully acknowledged. It was always there—unspoken, lingering. But now, it felt impossible to ignore.
Jane swallowed, forcing a chuckle to break the moment. "I-I should go. Thanks for everything, Derek."
Derek inhaled sharply, his jaw tensing. He wanted to say something—to make her stay—but the words lodged in his throat.
*"Yeah," he muttered. "No problem."
He watched her turn away, his heart pounding against his ribs. As she took a few steps forward, something inside him snapped.
"Jane!"
She froze mid-step, then turned, her expression laced with surprise... and maybe, just maybe, hope. "Yeah?"
Derek didn't give himself time to second-guess. He closed the distance between them in two strides, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward him—crashing his lips against hers in a desperate, passionate kiss.
Jane gasped against his mouth, eyes widening in shock. But then, as if something inside her finally clicked into place, she melted into him. Her hands gripped his jacket, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. The world blurred into nothing—the pain, the past, the future—none of it mattered. In this moment, there was only them.
Jane's heart raced as the kiss deepened, her body pressed against Derek's like they had been waiting for this moment forever. But then, reality crept in. Her breath hitched, and with a shaky exhale, she pulled back—just enough to meet his gaze.
"Derek..." she whispered, her fingers still tangled in his shirt.
Derek didn't let go. His forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her lips. His eyes, usually guarded, were now wide open, vulnerable.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured. "Tell me this is nothing, and I'll walk away."
Jane swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Every part of her screamed to hold on, to let herself fall into this. But there was fear too—fear of what this meant, of what came next.
"I..." Her voice faltered.
Derek's grip on her waist loosened slightly, giving her space, but his eyes never wavered. He was waiting. Waiting for her to make the choice.
Jane closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When she opened them again, something had shifted. Her hand moved to his cheek, fingers brushing against his stubble in a featherlight touch.
"I don't want to stop," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
A slow, relieved exhale left Derek's lips before he kissed her again—softer this time, slower, like he was memorizing the moment. Jane responded just as gently, her body relaxing into his embrace.
Minutes passed before they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Jane let out a soft, breathless laugh, shaking her head.
"Well," she murmured. "That happened."
Derek chuckled, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over her waist. "Yeah. It did."
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn't awkward. It was heavy with unspoken words, possibilities.
"So..." Jane bit her lip, tilting her head. "What now?"
Derek smirked slightly, but there was something more behind it—something real. "Now? We stop pretending we don't want this."
Jane blinked, surprised by his honesty. Then, a slow smile spread across her lips.
"Yeah," she agreed softly. "No more pretending."
Derek nodded, his expression serious but warm. "But we take this slow."
Jane smirked playfully. "You? Taking something slow? That's new."
Derek rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Don't push it."
She laughed, and just like that, the tension broke. Whatever this was between them, it wasn't just fleeting. It was real. And for the first time in a long time, Jane felt like she wasn't just surviving—she was finally living.
[Chapter ends]