The sun rose over Beacon Hills, casting the sky in pale shades of rose and gold, a harsh contrast to the blood-stained ground of the Argent estate. The smell of ozone, magic, and dead life still lingered in the air. Peter Hale lay lifeless, eyes glazed and empty, a silent witness to the violent change of leadership. And loomed over his body, bathed in the new light, was **Derek Hale, new Alpha**, his eyes still aglow with an unsettling, powerful red.
Scott, Stiles, and Damien remained in the wake, a combination of shock, relief, and grim realization flooding over them. Scott experienced the raw *force* of Derek's new Alpha position, a tangible change in the supernatural world. It was frightening, but also, inexplicably, soothing. The randomness that Peter represented was gone.
Chris Argent, his own face stern but unyielding, rapidly sized up the situation. He saw Peter's corpse, then Derek's glowing eyes, a thought occuring to him in his own. He had heard the legends, the primal force of an Alpha. His eyes then turned to Scott, the young Beta, who for all his fear, had evidently fought bravely. And last, to his daughter Allison, who was beside him, her fingers wrapped around the now lifeless flash bomb, her eyes wide with a chilling new knowledge of her family's existence.
"Gerard," said Chris, his voice low and commanding. "Take care of the perimeter. We need to clean this up. No witnesses."
Gerard, gazing upon the body of Peter, only grunted in assent, a calculating gleam in his ancient eyes. The Argent patriarch was already calculating this new information, the sudden change to the local werewolf pecking order.
Derek, now Alpha, turned his gaze to Scott. There was no longer anger, but a stern, challenging assessment. "This is what happens when you're not in control, McCall. Chaos. Blood. Death. You're lucky this time." He glanced at Damien, a flicker of grudging respect in his new Alpha eyes. "And you. Lycan. This territory is now mine. Understand?"
Damien met Derek's gaze, his golden eyes unblinking. "The balance has shifted, Alpha. My interests remain in containing the Darach. Her work is incomplete."
Stiles, finding his voice amidst the new Alpha's intimidating presence, piped up, "So, you're… the new Alpha? Awesome! Does this mean no more murderous, manipulative uncles? Because I'm really hoping it means no more murderous, manipulative uncles."
Derek paid no heed to Stiles, his eyes remaining on Scott. "You're a Beta, McCall. Part of this land. You need to get a grip. Quick. Or you'll be the next issue." His tone was brutal, but there was something in the undertone that sounded less threatening and more like a dark lesson. He was an Alpha, now, and he had duties to uphold.
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As morning sun rose higher in the sky, the Sheriff's department responded to anonymous reports of a 'large disturbance.' Chris Argent, king of deception and damage control, had already acted fast, spinning his web of a localized electrical fire and a violent burglary. The corpses were removed, evidence carefully scrubbed by the Argents, who were skilled at keeping such 'incidents' from seeping into the public eye.
Scott, Stiles, and Damien withdrew, leaving the Argents to clean up. The air was charged with unasked questions.
In Scott's house, fatigue finally caught up with them. Stiles flopped onto the couch, grumbling about therapy. Damien stood at the window, quietly watching over the town. Scott was hollowed out, but somehow also energized. He had confronted Peter. He had assisted. And he had lived.
"So, Derek's the Alpha now," Scott said, filling the silence. "What does that even mean?"
Stiles sat up slowly. "It means he's the head honcho. The leader. The one everyone else reports to. It's how the pack ranks work. Peter was Alpha because he killed Laura, his sister. Now Derek's Alpha because he killed Peter. It's like, a brutal, furry game of king of the hill.
And it makes all the difference," Damien continued, swinging away from the window. "A vengeful, wild Alpha like Peter was a force for destabilization. Derek, in spite of what he is, wants to protect his territory. This will produce a different sort of order, or at least a different sort of conflict.
Scott's thoughts went to Allison. He saw the expression on her face when the flash bomb detonated, when the shadows danced and the world's true nature was revealed to her. She knew too much. There was a rush of deep protectiveness, combined with a new fear – the fear that she would discover what he was, and the fear that her family was something other than what it seemed.
He knew he could not keep his life a secret from her forever, not when supernatural mayhem was building. And he could not deny the feelings he had for her. But how could he balance his werewolf existence, the risks that came with him, and the tenuous normalcy he so longed with Allison?
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And across town, in the sterile corridors of Beacon Hills High, Allison Argent floated. The sun was out, children were laughing in the corridors, but her world was irrevocably different. She had witnessed the unthinkable: a man change into a vicious animal, a burst of explosive that halted him, and the dreadful finality of the other man—Derek—sucking the power from his body. Her grandfather's and father's somber faces, their muted explanations of "containing the situation," did little to suppress the maelstrom raging within her.
She recalled her father's words now, the Argent bloodline, being a target for real power. She recalled Gerard's wicked, knowing glances. The pieces were falling into place, creating a picture much more frightening and thrilling than she could have ever conceived. Her family wasn't merely old-fashioned; they were **hunters**. And she was a part of it.
Allison was pulled to the school library at lunchtime, not to do quiet reading, but to seek answers. She entered "Hale family Beacon Hills fire" into a search engine, then "werewolves mythology," "supernatural hunters." The internet, typically a provider of mundane amusement, became a portal into a secret universe. She uncovered fragments of local legend, ancient news stories, and obscure historical texts. The Hale clan, the Alphas' legends, the "Argent Code" – they were all there, thinly disguised.
Her fingers shook as she scrolled. The life she had believed was a myth. And Scott, dear, occasionally gangly Scott, who had just protected her from a dark assailant, appeared to be at the very center of this new, frightening world. She couldn't help but think of his own smell, of his odd strength, of the way his eyes had shone amidst the panic.
A new mission, determined and somber, started taking shape in her mind. She was no longer a new girl. She was an Argent, and she had a family history to discover. A history that now closely entwined the odd, hazardous new world of Beacon Hills, and the enigmatic boy she was so attracted to.
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