NOTE: Don't forget to join my Patreon.com/Argonaut007 to get access to 10+ advance chapters.
------
The night felt heavier than before.
Scott McCall stood at the edge of the woods, unmoving, his chest rising and falling as if the air itself had thickened around him. The darkness ahead wasn't just the absence of light—it felt alive. Watching. Waiting.
Calling him.
Behind him, Stiles shifted uneasily, gripping his bat tighter than necessary. "I just want to say… this is a terrible idea," he muttered. "Like, historically bad. Like, people-die-in-this-situation bad."
Scott didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on the forest, unblinking.
"It's out there," he said quietly.
Stiles frowned. "What is?"
Scott swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "…I don't know. But it knows me."
A cold breeze passed through the trees, rustling leaves in a whisper that felt far too deliberate. Then Scott stepped forward—and just like that, he crossed the line.
The forest swallowed them whole.
Branches creaked overhead as the wind died, leaving behind a suffocating silence. Even the insects had stopped. No chirping. No movement. Nothing.
Scott's breathing slowed, deepened. His posture shifted unconsciously—shoulders lowering, head tilting slightly as his senses stretched outward. Every sound, every scent, every faint disturbance in the air sharpened.
He could feel it.
Somewhere in the dark… a heartbeat.
Slow. Heavy. Powerful.
Not human.
High above, perched silently on a thick branch, Arthur Corvinus watched. Unmoving. Unseen. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, locked onto Scott below.
"Right on time…" he thought.
But something gnawed at him—the pressure in the air, the timing. Subtle, but undeniable.
This world had already begun to diverge.
A growl echoed through the forest.
Low. Deep. Primal.
It didn't belong to Scott. It didn't belong to anything natural.
Stiles froze instantly. "…Nope," he whispered. "Nope, nope, nope—that's not normal."
Scott didn't move, but his body tensed—every muscle tightening, every instinct screaming.
Then the darkness shifted.
And it stepped out.
The Alpha.
Moonlight broke through the canopy just enough to reveal its form—massive, towering, something between man and beast. Its body was elongated, muscles coiled beneath dark fur, claws extended like blades. But it was the eyes—glowing a violent, unnatural red—that froze Scott in place.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Scott felt it.
The difference.
The overwhelming, crushing gap between them.
His breath hitched. "…What… is that…?" he whispered.
The Alpha didn't answer. It simply stared at him.
And in that gaze, Scott understood.
He wasn't the hunter.
He was prey.
The Alpha moved.
Scott didn't even see it happen. One moment it stood there—
The next—
Impact.
Scott was sent flying across the clearing, his body slamming into the ground hard enough to tear through dirt and leaves. The air was ripped from his lungs as pain exploded through his chest.
"SCOTT!" Stiles shouted.
Scott coughed violently, forcing himself up—but the Alpha was already there. Too fast. Too close.
Scott reacted on instinct. He lunged—fast, wild, desperate. His fist cut through the air toward the Alpha's head—
But it didn't connect.
The Alpha tilted its head slightly. Effortless.
Scott struck again. And again. Each movement faster than the last, adrenaline surging through him.
But every attack missed.
Dodged. Read. Predicted—like the Alpha already knew what he would do.
Then a clawed hand shot forward.
Scott's throat was seized instantly.
Lifted.
Effortless.
His feet left the ground as he clawed at the Alpha's arm, struggling for air. It didn't strain. Didn't even try.
The Alpha leaned closer, its red eyes burning into his.
And Scott felt it—pure dominance.
A message without words:
You are nothing.
Above them, Arthur watched, still and calculating.
"Speed… far beyond Scott's current level."
"Strength… overwhelming."
Scott's body was already weakening.
"If this continues… he dies."
Without warning, the Alpha threw Scott aside. His body slammed into a tree with a sickening thud before collapsing to the ground. Scott groaned, barely able to move as pain radiated through him, his vision blurring.
"Scott!"
Stiles ran to him without thinking—reckless, loyal, terrified. He dropped beside him, trying to pull him up. "Come on, man! Get up! This is the part where you get up!"
The Alpha turned its head slowly, its gaze shifting from Scott… to Stiles.
Everything stopped.
Stiles froze mid-motion. The bat in his hands suddenly felt useless. Meaningless.
"…Okay," he whispered, voice shaking. "Okay, I regret everything…"
The Alpha took a step toward him—slow, deliberate, predatory.
Above, Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"That's enough."
The air shifted.
Subtle—but undeniable.
Arthur moved. Not openly, not fully—but enough. A silent blur through the trees, precise and controlled.
Then he stopped.
Hidden.
Watching.
But no longer passive.
The Alpha felt it instantly.
Its movement halted. Its head snapped toward the forest—toward Arthur.
Two predators.
Sensing each other.
Arthur stood in the shadows, his form barely visible. But his eyes—crimson, burning, unyielding—cut through the darkness.
Silence fell again.
But this time, it was different.
Heavier. Sharper.
The Alpha turned fully now, its red gaze locking onto Arthur's position.
For the first time—
It hesitated.
Not fear.
But awareness.
Recognition.
A low growl rumbled from its chest.
Arthur didn't speak. Didn't move.
But his presence said enough.
Not tonight.
Seconds stretched as tension coiled tighter, the forest itself seeming to hold its breath.
Then the Alpha stepped back.
Slowly.
Its gaze flickered between Scott… and Arthur.
Measuring.
Calculating.
It let out a low growl—not of aggression, but acknowledgment.
And then—
It disappeared into the darkness.
Gone, as if it had never been there.
The forest exhaled. Sound returned. The wind moved once more.
Scott coughed, dragging in air as he forced himself upright, pain screaming through his body. "…What… was that…?" he rasped.
Stiles grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Okay—new rule!" he said rapidly. "No more woods! Ever! Woods are officially banned! Illegal! We're done!"
Scott let out a weak, breathless laugh—then winced.
High above, Arthur remained, watching.
"Peter Hale…"
Confirmed.
The Alpha had entered the game.
But something was wrong.
Arthur's gaze darkened slightly.
"So he became an Alpha until the end… what a lucky bastard."
Another deviation.
Yet somehow… the timeline had corrected itself.
Scott glanced toward the trees, sensing something—Arthur's presence—but he saw nothing.
Arthur turned away.
"You're not ready…"
A pause.
"…but you survived."
A faint, almost imperceptible shift touched his expression.
"Good."