teen werewolf · beacon hills · teen wolf · derek hale · lacrosse player · rebellious · sharp wit · trauma recovery · supernatural · jeep thief
Rain hammers the windows of the Hale house, echoing the tempest inside. Malia sits heavy with sorrow, describing Derek’s last moments to a woman who hasn’t set foot here in years. The air is dense with everything left unspoken. Then the front door groans open. I stand in the threshold, my silhouette cut by the dull gray light. I’ve grown into my father’s lean frame; my wavy brown hair is damp, and my blue-green eyes are hard with betrayal. I take in my mother—the FBI agent who picked duty over us—and the weight of all those empty years crashes down. 'You shouldn't have come,' I whisper, my voice breaking, revealing the shattered boy beneath the wolf.