Stiles left the guidance office and I entered, seemingly unnoticed by him.
Ms. Morrell smiled at me. "How can I help you, Eliana? You don't have an appointment."
I sighed, running a nervous hand through my hair. "I know. I just needed to talk to someone."
"This is something you feel uncomfortable talking to you friends about, isn't it?"
I nodded. "Only a couple of them know about the shit I've gone through. Oh, sorry. I don't know if you--"
"If cussing helps you express what you're going through, go ahead. I don't mind. What sort of stuff have you gone through?"
"Uh, well, I should probably start at the beginning."
Ms. Morrell nodded silently and I continued. "My mom started abusing me when I was ten. She always told me my brother Evan's death was my fault, even though it wasn't. Eventually, I started believing her. I nearly tried to commit suicide when I was 14, but was stopped by Stiles before I could actually do anything. She was arrested recently. I haven't been sleeping well. I constantly wake up with nightmares. I'm afraid she'll find me and kill me dead. I feel like I'm on the verge of a never-ending panic attack."
"There is always someone who can help," Ms. Morrell replied. "Abuse is hard to recover from. Is there anything I can do to help?"
As though my sudden burst of courage abandoned me, I shook my head and said, "No. I should go. This was a mistake."
I left the school and made my way to the abandoned subway station to see Derek. I arrived and heard Erica say, "It's not like we want to."
"Want to what?" I asked.
Derek growled. "Leave my pack. What do you want?"
"Since I just turned 16 a month ago, I wouldn't mind getting my license," Erica replied. "I can't do that if I'm dead, you know."
"Well, I told you there was a price."
"Yeah, but you didn't say it would be like this," Boyd replied.
Derek frowned. "Yeah, but I told you how to survive. You do it as a pack. And you're not a pack without an Alpha."
"We know."
"You wanna look for another pack? How are you even gonna find one?"
"We think we already did."
"Like, all of a sudden, we heard this howling. It was unbelievable," Erica said.
"There must have been a dozen of them," Boyd added.
"Maybe more."
I scoffed. "Yeah, or maybe only two."
Derek nodded briefly. "You know what the Beau Geste is? If they modulate their howls with a rapid shift tone, two wolves can sound like 20."
Erica sighed. "Look; that doesn't matter, okay? There's another pack out there. There's got to be. We've made up our minds."
Boyd nodded, glancing to Erica. "Yeah, we lost, Derek. And it's over. We're leaving."
Derek growled. "No. No, you're running. And once you start, you don't stop. You'll always be running."
A voice startled me after Erica and Boyd had left. I turned to see Peter fucking Hale. Last I knew, he was dead.
Peter smirked. "It's quite a situation you've got yourself in here, Derek. I mean, I'm out of commission for a few weeks and suddenly there's lizard people, geriatric psychopaths, and you're cooking up werewolves out of every self-esteem-deprived adolescent in town. I see you have a mate. She's practically a luna."
"What do you want?" Derek asked in annoyance.
"Well, I want to help. You're my nephew. The only relative I have left. You know, there's still a lot I can teach you. Can we just talk?"
"Sure, let's talk," Derek said, punching Peter.
"Yes! Kick his ass!" I cried, causing Peter to glare and Derek to smirk.
Derek glanced at me. "Don't you have a lacrosse game to get to?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I need a ride. I know I need a car or some sort of transportation of my own."
Derek chuckled. "I don't mind driving you around. Honestly. I get to spend more time with you."
I got to the locker room and stood next to Melissa and Scott.
""Good morning,"" Coach began. ""In less than an hour, aircraft from here will be joining others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of mankind.""
"What?" Melissa asked.
Coach continued. ""Mankind. That word should have new meaning for all of us today."
"What the hell is he talking about?"
"He does this every year," Stiles replied.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
Coach went on. ""We are fighting for our right to live.""
"Yeah!" A player cried.
"Wait," Melissa realized. "Is this--"
I nodded. "President Whitmore's speech from Independence Day. My dad's favorite movie."
""But as the day the world declared in one voice--"
"It's Coach's favorite movie," Stiles added.
""We will not go quietly into the night!""
"He doesn't know any sports speeches?" Melissa asked.
Stiles shrugged. "I don't think he cares."
""Today we celebrate our Independence Day!""
"Yeah!" The players exclaimed.
Gerard Argent walked into the room and clapped. Shit. "Well spoken, Coach. I might have chosen something with a little more historical value, but there's no denying your passion. And while I haven't been here long, there's no denying my pride in having a winning team for this school I know you'll all be brilliant tonight, even with one co-captain leading you. Now, I'm your principal, but I'm also a fan. So don't think I'll be content to watch you merely beat this time. Get out there and murder them!"
There's got to be an underlying meaning to his words.
Coach's voice interrupted my thoughts as he yelled, "You heard the man. Asses on the field!"
I began feeling extreme anger. Derek. I rushed to the subway station to find Derek and Peter fighting.
Peter turned to Derek. "You don't actually think that I want to be the Alpha again, do you? That wasn't my finest performance, considering it ended in my death. I mean, I'm usually more--okay, go ahead! Come on, do it. Hit me, hit me. I can see that it's cathartic for you. You're letting go of all the anger, self-loathing, and hatred that comes with total and complete failure. I may be the one taking the beating, Derek, but you've already been beaten. So, go ahead. Hit me if it will make you feel better. After all, I did say I wanted to help."
"You can't help me," Derek retorted, noticing me. "Eliana, what are you doing here?"
"I felt anger. I wanted to make sure you were okay," I replied.
Peter smirked. "See? Prime example right here. I'm not healing as fast. Coming back from the dead isn't easy, you know. I'm not as strong as I used to be. I need a pack. An Alpha like you. I need you as much as you need me."
Derek crossed his arms. "Why would I want help from a total psycho?"
"First of all, I'm not a total psycho. And by the way, you're the one that slashed my throat wide open. But we're all works in progress, right? So we need each other. Sometimes when you need help, you turn to people you'd never expect."
I glared at him. "No way I'm getting help from you, you psycho."
Peter sighed and turned back to Derek. "You tried to build your pack. You tried to prepare for the worst. You weren't ready. Because of it, Gerard is winning. He's taking his time. He's toying with Scott. He's going after your wolves. You're lucky Eliana is here instead of out there. She's incredibly powerful and would be a huge asset to him. He's relishing in his victory."
Derek scoffed. "How about you tell me something I don't know?"
Peter smiled. "Oh, I'm going to. And it's gonna prove why you should trust me. Why you need to trust me. Because I'm going to tell you how to stop Jackson."
"You know how to stop him?!" I cried.
"What do you mean?" Derek asked. "Know how to kill him?"
"Actually, how to save him," Peter said.
I frowned. "Save him? You were a murderer."
Peter ignored my words. "There's a myth that you can cure a werewolf by calling out its Christian name."
"It's just a myth," Derek shot back.
Peter shrugged. "Sometimes myths and legends bear a hint of truth. Our name is a symbol of who we are. The kanima has no identity. That's why it doesn't seek a pack."
"It seeks a master," I remembered.
"And who else grows up with no pack? No identity?"
"An orphan," Derek said.
Peter nodded. "Like Jackson. And right now, his identity is disappearing beneath a reptilian skin and you need to bring him back."
"How?" Derek and I asked.
Peter looked between us in disbelief. "Through his heart. How else?"
"You know, in case you hadn't noticed, Jackson doesn't really have too much of a heart to begin with," Derek said.
Peter shook his head. "Not true. He'd never admit it, but there is one person. One young lady with whom Jackson shared a real bond. One person who can reach him. Who can save him."
"Lydia," I realized.
"Your best ally has always been anger, Derek, but what you lack most is a heart. Except with Eliana, it seems. That's why you've always known that you need Scott and Eliana more than anyone. And even somebody as burned and dead on the inside as me knows better than to underestimate the simple yet undeniable power of human love."
"Or that of mates," I added, glancing at Derek.
My phone rang and I checked to see who it was. The caller ID read Scott McCall.
I answered the phone and was met with yelling. "Eliana! Stiles is missing! We won the game and Jackson killed himself to prevent himself from hurting others. Gerard's in charge of him in case you forgot, but Stiles is missing! I-I don't know where he is and I'm really freaking out! Please come, Ella. I need--I need--"
"I'm on my way, Scott. Meet at my place. Maybe my dad can help if he's not already on it."
I hung up and Derek looked at me. "What is it?"
I took a moment to calm the fear and worry. "Stiles is missing. Scott needs my help."
Derek nodded. "Be careful."
When I got to my house, Scott threw his arms around me tightly and we stood there for a long while.
Eventually, we walked inside and I saw my dad peeling potatoes. He had a day off.
"Dad, we need your help."