Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

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The next morning, Scott and Isaac had done a good job of taking Foster's mind off of her mother. When she stirred awake, Scott and Isaac were quick to whatever they could to plaster a smile upon her face. Even if that meant Foster watching two teenage werewolves fail miserably at cooking chocolate pancakes for her. 

The entirety of the day was spent with everyone avoiding the topic of Foster's mother. Foster was thankful for that, she wasn't ready to talk about yet. She knew she needed to tell someone about Peter, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it yet. 

Which was why when Isaac had to start packing for France, Scott had decided it would be best that Foster came with him to his house where he and Stiles were planning on teaching Malia Tate how to control the shift.

That's how she found herself standing in between the three boys, the brunette haired former coyote staring up at the three who were trying to teach her control over the animalistic side within her.

After going into an in depth explanation on how to control her shift, Scott had then proceeded to show her his own claws. He flicked out his wrist, allowing them to come out with ease. For him, struggling with the shift was a thing of the past. He had become accustomed and used to how the moon had an effect on him. 

 Malia shut her eyes after watching Scott, searching deep inside for her animal side. She then flicked her wrist in an attempt to grow claws, it being no use. She tried once again to no avail, releasing a sigh of a disappointment. Malia was quick to look toward Scott for guidance.

"It's okay," he assured her, knowing how difficult it was for himself at first. "Don't think about it too much. Just try to let it happen."

She nodded softly before shutting her eyes once again, clearing her head before focusing on the claws like it was a normal part of her body. That shifting was just as easy as blinking.

When she flicked her wrist this time, a set of claws had taken place of her fingernails.

She grinned in excitement, both Scott and Foster sharing a proud look of delight in regards to the new werecoyote. She immediately turned in Stiles' direction, her claws almost scraping across his face. Stiles was quick to fly back, trying to avoid getting scratched by her.

"Oh, wow," Stiles complimented genuinely, only mildly terrified.

"Oh!" she cried out, still smiling as she pulled her hand away. "I am so sorry!"

She released a laugh, grinning in delight as she stared upon her claws.

Maybe for once, one of them could be happy.

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When Foster had finally gotten home, Isaac and Eric were gone at the Argents, Eric going over how Isaac's living conditions would be. He was very protective of the boy, that was a given. He wanted to make sure that wherever Isaac was that he would be safe. It was hard enough for Eric to let him go, he just needed to be sure the boy was going to be safe with Chris. 

This left her alone for an hour or two, Foster thinking over everything that had happened during the past few days. She had a feeling that this wasn't the end yet, thinking back to Peter's bone chilling words.

What if this wasn't the worst of what she and her friends would experience? What if a Nogitsune is nothing compared to things that are bound to come. The idea of this scared Foster beyond belief.

But it didn't scare her as much as Peter entering her apartment again did.

When he entered the house once again, picking the lock with his claw, Foster decided that it was time to get a deadbolt on the door. And maybe top security because this guy was beginning to piss her off. 

At sight of him, her blood boiled as the memories of him tearing her mom's throat out replayed in her head. She wanted to take a knife and dig it into his eyes, she wanted to make him feel pain in a manner no one could ever fathom. She wanted to watch Peter Hale suffer, and Peter could see that clearly on her face.

He found it amusing.

Peter chuckled at her rage filled expression, musing, "Smart, Ella, keeping our encounter yesterday secretly. It's a good thing you did."

Seething, she gritted through clenched teeth, "Get out of here before I - "

"Before you what?" he taunted sardonically, shaking his head softly. "Ella, I have plans for you. Big plans, that is. And the details of that are going to stay disclosed for right now, but what you do need to know is that if you don't help me, you'll receive two consequences." Foster's jaw fell slack as he spoke. "First, I'm the only one who knows what you are, so if you ever want to know, you'll do as I say."

"And the second?" she demanded, not finding that a good enough reason to help him.

"The second, this is the one you'll like," he continued, approaching her slowly. "If you don't help me, the next person to get their throat ripped out by me is your precious father." Foster's breath hitched in her throat as he spoke, trying to fight back the urge to scream. "If you don't help me, your last remaining family parent will be buried right beside your mother."

Just the thought of losing her father was enough to break Foster's heart into two, split and jagged pieces. If there was a way to save him, she would do it. She would do absolutely anything and everything to keep her father out of harm's way.

Which was why she questioned, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to help me kill Scott McCall."

THE END.