"Son."

"I got it, Ma."

"Are you sure-"

"Ma!"

"Don't you growl at me, young man."

"Sorry."

"Really?"

"And you ask why people think I'm so sarcastic. I come by it naturally."

Eilidh grinned at her unrepentant son, and reached out to ruffle his short dark hair, her grin widening into a smile when he gracefully ducked her hand and danced out of reach. He circled her playfully, his eyes glowing as he wagged his head back and forth like he was deciding which way to dart in; she'd seen him spar before and knew you couldn't fall for his head wag because it was a diversion. Sure enough, he disappeared into the shadows of the nearby copse of trees, then popped up next to her just as she realized he was gone.

"Umph!"

"Gotcha," he winked slyly. Eilidh's heart caught as memories of another man with the same devilish air suddenly transposed atop her son's face. He was hers in face and form, but his expressions were all his father's.

"Mom?"

She shook her head free of the past and returned to the present filled with her beloved boy. It was dangerous for her to return to paths already walked, especially given the territory they would soon enter, even if they were coming as supplicants to a (hopefully) benevolent wolf pack.

"You remember the greeting I taught you?"

He deserved the smack upside the head for the eyeroll, but she was proud of him when it didn't elicit a growl or slipping claws; he wasn't quite so calm closer to the full moon.

"Yes ma'am."

"It's important Ismene accepts you; if she does, then we won't have to keep...moving."

They both knew running was a more apt word though Eilidh refused to use it despite it's validity. It wasn't her son's fault he was bitten at such a young age he couldn't control his shifts between wolf and human until he was near puberty; she blamed the rogue wolf who bit him, the packs who ran them off their territories instead of helping them, and even Fate for putting her son and husband in the situation from the start. Beacon Hills was the only place left she could think of to take him where he might actually survive into adulthood; they'd been incredibly lucky so far escaping the attention of hunters, but Eilidh didn't want to depend on chance and happenstance forever. She knew he knew the truth, but it seemed better to not invite the spirits of bad omens by speaking about it aloud.

"Ready to go, kiddo?"

He nodded, the urge to run and move obviously purged by the human-like slowness of his actions as he reached for her hand and linked their fingers together. Most boys at twelve would be too embarrassed to be so publicly affectionate with their parents, but Eilidh relished the contact as much as he did. She knew wolves were incredibly tactile, especially from those they considered pack, so she made sure to always be receptive to his touch. They remained hand in hand until they reached the end of the trail to the paved parking lot where their car was parked.

The next hour was silent, though Eilidh didn't think it was a tense one. This was the first time for him to be on this side of the country and he watched the passing scenery with an almost wolfish eagerness. She couldn't wait to see his reaction once they drove into her hometown because Beacon Hills was nestled in a valley surrounded by a nature preserve that fed back into one of many California mixed evergreen forests. Their trip up the coast and further inland had been an eye-opening experience for a kid more used to the flat plains of the Midwest.

"This is sooo cool, Ma. How did you ever leave it?"

Pain ricocheted through her at the innocent question and she fought to keep her heartbeat steady and her scent free of emotions. It wasn't his fault he asked her the one question she refused to ask herself; the reasons were idiotic (and highly ironic really) in hindsight, but for all her mistakes she's made, she wouldn't do anything differently because then she wouldn't have her son.

"I was young and wanted to travel, see the world." It wasn't quite a lie.

"I guess you kinda got your wish," was the quiet response, and this time she did nothing to mask her reaction.

"No! Don't think like that, baby. Don't ever think any of this was your fault."

"If I weren't what I am, you wouldn't be forced to go back to your hometown to beg for a place to stay."

The bitterness coating his words shocked her.

"Is that what you think this is about?"

"Isn't it?"

Most days when she looked at him, she saw the baby who was placed on her stomach, eyes scrunched shut as he squalled his indignation about being forced from his cozy home; now, in this moment however, she saw a hurting boy on the cusp of manhood, needing assurances he wasn't a monster. And to reassure him, she had to break open the vault of secrets.

"Did I ever tell you I once dated a wolf?"

Eilidh kept her eyes on the road this time, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Every time he'd asked about his father, she'd told him all the good things, how they met and married, and now he must feel so betrayed she'd loved someone else first.

"Before you met Dad?"

"Of course before I met your dad! This was when I was still in high school."

"Is that how you know so much about wolves?"

"Yes."

"Is he part of the Beacon Hills Pack?"

"I would assume so since his mom is the Alpha."

"Did you love him more than Papa?"

"I loved them both but in different ways." Very different, though she didn't feel comfortable explaining the distinction to him. She could only hope he found the same deep abiding love she'd been blessed with twice in her life.

"Are we going to Beacon Hills for me or for you?"

The insinuation was ugly coming from his wolf-roughened voice.

Eilidh checked the rearview and side mirrors to make sure there wasn't anyone behind her, then swerved to the shoulder of the two-lane highway and threw the car in park before facing her half-turned son. He was pressed against the passenger side window, trying to defiantly stare her down with glowing eyes, furry ears, and lethal fangs, but his body language was very defensive. One of the many things she'd learned with her teenage wolf romance and then again with rearing one was how to read a person by observing muscle, breath, and bone. His posture indicated he knew he'd crossed a line, but didn't know how to back away from it. If anything, her son was a quiet boy who followed her lead, but lately his attitude had begun changing as he starting acting as if he was the Alpha, and she'd wondered in the dark of night whether his approaching thirteenth birthday was the cause. For as much as she did know about wolves, there was so much more she didn't. Since his turning, she'd been winging it, desperate to keep him alive and sane and as safe as possible.

"Pack is important for a wolf and you're getting to the age where you need more than I can give you alone. We're going to Beacon Hills because I'm hopeful Ismene will overlook the past and accept you. And -" she raised her voice over his growly objections "- if not accept you into the pack then at least teach you what you need to know for the future."

To hide what you are, her conscience whispered into the swelling silence. He was able to pass as human at first glance until you looked closer and saw he moved a little too gracefully, a little too fast, and was a little too strong for his age. It was amazing what her genetics combined with his father's had produced then enhanced by the bite. In a perfect world he could be whomever he wanted to be - wolf, human, something in between - but while the idea was nice, the execution was much trickier in the real world where his kind were relegated to the realms of Fantasy and Science Fiction stories.

He cocked his head as if listening to her unspoken thoughts before his features returned to normal. Not normal, Eilidh admonished herself, a word she had abolished from their vocabulary and conversations because it was a hurtful concept, something that haunted her son since the first moment it was used against him as a weapon.

"Promise me, promise me, you'll do whatever it takes to ingratiate yourself to the Alpha."

"As long as you don't trade yourself to them like you did the Barlow Pack."

Horror spread through her at his words. "How...?"

"You smelled like their Alpha."

'It wasn't like that."

"Mom, I'm twelve not an idiot. I know what sex smells like."

This wasn't the conversation she ever envisioned having with her child, but it was par for the course when raising a son who could literally smell what was going on. Greg was a good Alpha, but a lonely and single one. At first he'd been willing to take her son on as long as she was part of the deal; it wasn't a hardship to be courted by a gorgeous and successful man. The first few months with the Barlow Pack were idyllic and she's begun to tentatively hope they'd finally found a place to stay so she hadn't refused him when he came to her room one night. She didn't expect him to be the love of her life - which he wasn't - but he was a worthy addition.

Then the Run happened.

In older times, when packs were spread out across long distances and less likely to meet strangers, the Run had been organized to introduce new blood into packs to limit inbreeding. Nowadays, it was less about mates, though that still happened of course, and more about agreements about expansion in territories, and allowing offspring to cross into held towns for schooling. It was a three day event which culminated in a run (hence the name) of the packs together to cement the alliances. Bitten packmates were welcomed, so Eidlidh didn't think anything of bringing her son despite never going to one before; she would've thought humans wouldn't be allowed, but few followed the old ways anymore.

The first two days went without a hitch and they'd enjoyed camping, seeing how all the other packs interacted, and just enjoying the rare moment of belonging. Eilidh, being human, couldn't participate in the Run, so she'd gone back to the campsite to enjoy the solitude, though she'd formed tentative friendships with a few women like her who were mothers of wolves without being wolves themselves. It wasn't often she found herself completely alone, and she intended to take advantage of it, but her contentment was shredded by the eerie howling through the hills. It shouldn't have raised her nonexistent hackles, except it was similar to the same throaty howls she'd heard when her son was being hunted, which sadly turned out to be correct.

It wasn't until afterwards, when tempers were calmed by having Greg and his betas shuffle him away, Eilidh learned exactly why her son was so feared: until he shifted, everyone had assumed he was a beta. Bitten Alphas were considered bottom feeders because death was the only way for them to become Alphas; somehow the situation was worsened when she explained how he was savaged at age two by a rogue wolf, and her husband had managed to kill it before succumbing to his own wounds. Greg made it clear despite any feelings he had for her, he couldn't risk the safety of his pack by housing another Alpha not bound by blood or bite. He was more upset than angry by her deception, despite her protestations she didn't know. How could she? The only wolves she'd known growing up were born ones so she didn't realize the bitten were different. It was then she realized the only safe place left open to them was in Beacon Hills. Surely, Ismene would forgive her for how she left; she wouldn't turn away a child. Would she?

The question burned as she drove past the sign stating they'd passed into Beacon Hills, Population 5400.

5402 hopefully.

Eilidh was grateful for the afternoon sun as she drove down unfamiliar streets for the Motel 8 she'd found; apparently the Dragonfly Inn was no longer in business and cheap motels had become de rigueur. Twenty years had passed since the last time she'd been in Beacon Hills, and it had changed enough for her to need directions her son diligently read off the smartphone in his hand. The motel was located in a slightly run down portion of town, its neighbors a series of emptied warehouses and what looked like remnants of a subway depot.

"I can see why a pack might wanna live here; very picturesque and doesn't scream here be monsters who go bump in the night at all."

Eilidh lightly cuffed the back of his head as they walked towards the motel lobby, her laughter firmly hidden behind a stern mouth. She needed to curb him of making snarky comments at inappropriate moments, especially before he saw Ismene. The she-wolf was a brusque no-nonsense woman who valued her pack and territory over any other consideration; if Eilidh's son was any danger to either, they wouldn't just be run out they'd be blackballed among all the packs in California because that's how much influence the Alpha had. She refused to contemplate any harsher methods used to control Omegas - it wouldn't be like that because she would make sure it wouldn't come to that. Ever.

They settled in with little fanfare, the clerk too young to know her name (which was something she hadn't missed about small town living), and Eilidh decided they'd have a quiet night. She didn't want to get too comfortable here as she wasn't sure if they would be staying more than a few days; if everything went well, then she'd look for an apartment and a job, but for now they'd have to live off what remained of their savings. Ignoring her son's amusement when she pulled out a worn Yellow Pages, Eilidh was relieved to note the diner on Ashton Road was still open. A good portion of her teen years were spent in the back booth, a young cocky wolf's arm slung around her shoulders as he fed her with possessive intent. The memories warmed her and she suddenly craved fries dipped in a thick chocolate malt.

"Hungry?"

"I could eat."

Teen boys were notorious for their appetites but even they had nothing on pre-teen wolves. Eilidh shuddered to think what the next few years would entail; if you could judge wolves' size by their paws as you did dogs, her son was destined to be big.

"Well get your butt off the bed and we'll go."

"But I'm comfy, do I hafta?"

The sleepy eye blink combined with the slight pout shouldn't have worked on her, yet twenty minutes later she found herself going through the diner doors alone. The bell jingled as she crossed the threshold and none of the few people inside looked at her except the blond teeny-bopper waitress lounging against the counter who straightened with a welcoming smile and hustled to her, grabbing a menu as she came forward.

"Hi, welcome to Baker's, my name is Shelly. You can sit anywhere you like."

"Actually I wanted to get two orders to go, if that's alright?"

"Sure just go to the counter and order when you're ready."

Musing over the menu, which really hadn't changed since the last time she was in here, Eilidh decided on hamburgers and curly fries and a thick chocolate malt. It wasn't the healthiest meal but after a long car ride and the uncertainty of the coming days, it was better than gas station food. After putting in her order, she sat down at the counter and looked out the large bay window to her left. Ashton Road was one of three main thoroughfares through the town and she could see the downturned economy had touched even here, despite the accumulative wealth of a good percentage of the citizens. Taped for sale signs dotted several different store windows, but judging by the degree of fading on each one, it was clear they'd been up on the block for a while.

"So you from around here or just passing through?'

The chirpy tone alerted her to Shelly's return, and Eilidh turned back with a guarded smile. This was wolf territory and until she got dispensation from the Alpha about being here, she couldn't be too careful. The girl appeared human, but then so did her son.

"Is there really any way to pass through here on the way to anywhere? It's a little out of the way, tucked up in the Beacon Mountain Range."

Shelly's smile merely brightened, dimples bracketing her plump red lips. "I know, right? I've lived here my whole life and we really don't get many new people so I'm always curious when we do."

"I'm only staying a few days then possibly going up state, maybe the beach. I haven't seen the beach in years."

And hopefully the trend would continue since she had no desire to ever go near a large body of water if she could help it. The ringing of a bell interrupted her thoughts before they could spiral downward into another completely different set of worries, and she was glad Shelly shuffled off with a "Afternoon Sheriff," leaving her alone. Eilidh was uncomfortable talking to strangers for any great length of time because invariably, especially in small towns like this, people wanted to know about her and her history. What was she supposed to say?

Her order came up and she gratefully accepted the polystyrene containers, already girding herself for the outrage and lecture her son would launch into once he caught sight of their dinner; he tried to ban the white foam containers from their life ever since he watched a show online discussing the harmful effects of styrene poisoning. It was her fault, really, since she couldn't necessarily trust her son to a public school situation because of his random shifting, than later because of their constant moving, so she'd been forced to take on his education and it was eclectic to say the least. A good portion of his childhood was spent in libraries and bookstores while she tried to juggle having a job and mothering a wolf cub; it wasn't perfect, but Eilidh didn't think she'd done too badly by him.

"Eilidh? Eilidh NicAmhlaigh?"

It was a curious feeling hearing her maiden name spoken aloud for the first time in a long while. It was a man with a star on his chest asking, incredulity spreading across his face, and Eilidh could feel a mirroring expression on her face as well. The last time the two of them stood in the same room, she'd renounced her family and he'd stripped her of any vestigial claim to Beacon Hills.

"Sheriff," she intoned quietly. "Long time no see." And it was still too soon for her tastes.

He stepped closer, his two inches in height and overbearing aura stifling in the suddenly small space. At one time he'd intimidated her, but she wasn't the same eighteen year old girl who escaped this town and its twisted history. Eilidh remained motionless and refused to look away first; he might not be a wolf, but this situation wasn't any less fraught with tension just because he couldn't grow claws and teeth.

A flash of white split the dark face so close to hers and he nodded once respectfully. She wasn't fooled by his friendly smile because she knew this wasn't over by any means, and wouldn't be as long as she remained in Beacon Hills limits, but she'd passed his first test.

"Does the Hale know you're here?"

Eilidh fought to keep the wince from showing, but knew by how his smile widened into a smirk that she hadn't managed to hide her reaction after all.

"Ah, I see. There's the impetuous and foolhardy girl I knew."

"No, Alan, everything's different now."

And how.

"You have no idea," he responded cryptically, and Eilidh remembered again why she never liked him.

"Well, my dinner is getting cold, so I need to go."

A hand on her forearm stopped her an inch from freedom. "You will see her, yes?"

Irritation spread through her, originating from the point of contact. At one time she could've done something about his proprietary grasp, but those days were long gone.

"That's why I've come back, not that its any of your business."

A deep frown gathered in the still smooth skin of his forehead, age having only lightly touched him despite the near decade he had on her.

"Everything that happens in this town and the Hales is my business and concern. Eilidh, you were banned from Beacon HIlls so you have until sundown tomorrow to leave the boundaries or I will be forced to remove you."

Terror lanced through her though it didn't alter her expression of disinterest. She had forgotten the restrictions placed upon her - purposely since she certainly never intended on returning - and her plans wouldn't come to fruition if she couldn't remain here. The Preserve, where the Hales lived, was still within the boundaries set long ago, even if California had claimed it as Federal land, thereby setting it outside the town limits itself. Magic couldn't be dissuaded despite human intervention, after all.

"You can't force me to go if I come under a banner of truce."

His sharp bark of laughter was more wolfish than not. "You'd be surprised what I'm allowed to do in the name of protection from our enemies."

At that, Eilidh winced, an ancient hurt seeping through a scarred over portion of her heart despite her best intentions. She had willingly left behind her heritage for the wider world so she couldn't regret the years she'd lived or the joys and sorrows it brought her, but home was more than just some Normal Rockwellian dream; it was more along the same compulsion that Salmon had swimming upstream in a do or die attempt to return to their birthing waters during mating season. It was no less strong in her bones regardless of time and distance.

"You'll be surprised how far I'm willing to go for what I believe in," she retorted instead, leaning into his touch. He would soon understand she was a mother fighting to find a haven for her son, and would do it no matter who or what she had to go through to accomplish this. Eilidh would not watch him die like a dog in the street like she had so many others.

Alan stepped back instinctively at her bared teeth and intense eyes ,and she wanted to howl her satisfaction at his quailing despite her decidedly non-wolf physiology. It was only Shelley eyeballing them with extreme interest that stopped this from becoming a more physical confrontation; she might not have the same abilities to tap into like Deacon, but she hadn't exactly led a normal life either.

"I will accede to whatever the Hale decides and no one else.

Satisfied with having the last word, Eilidh left the diner with her bag of food and cautiously drove back to the motel so there would be no excuse to get pulled over and hauled to jail for whatever trumped up reason the officer decided upon. If Deacon was Sheriff, then most if not all of his deputies either would be like him or wolves. And her name was definitely blackened here, with the way she rejected the Alpha's son in a decidedly spectacular way, so the wolves would have no compunction about getting a little of their own back.

Ten nerve-racking minutes later she pulled into the motel and parked the car outside their unit. It took everything she had not to immediately rummage through the trunk to switch out the plates, or take it a step further, and ditch it for a new ride.

The smell of food must've permeated the room because the door popped open, startling her out of her increasingly larcenous mindset

"Mother mine, what did you bring me?"

Eilidh wanted to burst into hysterical laughter when she caught sight of the nonchalant pose her twelve-year-old struck against the doorway, gleaming wolf eyes peering at her beneath a fall of dark bangs. Despite his relaxed stance and snarky tone, the Alpha red told her he had sensed (scented?) her unease and was responding to it.

"Just picked up some food from a diner down the road a ways," she quietly soothed, her hand smoothing against his beardless cheek. He tilted his head, without baring his throat, and allowed the scent marking even as he tracked her with narrowed focus once the door swung shut. Eilidh thanked the time spent with Greg because she was able to understand her son's behavior and knew to ignore him crowding against her back as she put their food on the small table to the right of the beds. It took a few more sniffs before he settled into a chair opposite her, finally unwinding into truly relaxed posture.

Of course that could have something to do with the three locks she engaged and the wolfsbane she spread across the threshold before returning to the table. It might trap him inside with her, but it also kept out any unexpected visitors. Well, as long as they didn't have any humans with them to break the line.

His food was almost gone before she started hers, but Eilidh was used to this and didn't protest when half of her dinner went to him as well. She wasn't very hungry after the confrontation with Deaton, so it was just as well.

"So what's the plan, Stan?"

"First off, don't call me Stan." He giggled at her paraphrasing the Leslie Nielsen quote. "And secondly, well, we're going to wing it."

A dark brow rose in question while brown eyes bled to red. Eilidh sighed internally at the sight as she knew it meant his most protective instincts were roused. Apparently her attempts at appearing calm hadn't worked as well as she hoped if his wolf was still so close to the surface.

"Okay, truth time, kiddo. I broke the Alpha's son's heart and she's probably not too keen on me, especially when...well…" How did one confess their youthful transgressions to a child?

"Yes?"

Deep breath. "I was supposed to be the Beacon Hill Pack's Emissary, but I chose to break away from tradition and leave the mountains for the sea." It was more complicated than that, of course, but it was the bare bones of it at least.

"Why would she accept me then?"

"I don't," Eilidh confessed the haunting truth. "But we have no other choices open to us."

Silence fell upon them as her almost thirteen-year-old processed the cold truth of the world they lived in. Perhaps in another life, she would never dare lay such information on her son, but this life required it. She truly didn't believe they could stay ahead of the hunters for much longer, not without help. He was a good boy, but puberty played havoc with wolven instincts and he need a pack to ground him. She knew he considered her his beta, but the bonds weren't strong enough as he needed several to anchor him as his wolf matured.

He straightened from his habitual slouch and the face he turned towards her looked unfamiliar for a split second. He looked so much like her lost husband, she couldn't breathe. John was the best man she'd ever known and his death had been particularly brutal; she hadn't had time to grieve properly, not from the moment she realized how much her life had changed again.

"Mom, I'll impress the hell outta her and she'll have to accept us."

Another deep breath. "There's a good chance I won't be taken into the pack. I'm only your mother, not a wolf or even an emissary any longer. You may have to stay at the den without me." She winced at the growls vibrating through her bones. Fur erupted from his skin and he hulked over, his secondary form bursting forth with the force of his emotions. The inch long claws were tight against her skin as he wrapped two large half-paws around her wrists but Eilidh didn't feel pain as he clutched her to his expanded chest. She often marveled at how her skinny five foot nothing son could suddenly become several inches taller with more muscles. It was an adaptation for alphas, she learned, while betas usually remained the same size as their human form.

"Shhh, shhh," she soothed, wrapping her arms around his waist and cuddling into his chest. Eilidh had done this enough times in the past three months to know, almost to the minute, how long it would take him to calm down. On count one hundred the fur disappeared and by one-fifty, he was shorter than her again and the growls had ceased.

"I don't want to live without you, Mom. You're more important than some stuffy old lady's pack. You're my pack." It gratified her to hear it even as her practical side knew it wouldn't matter in the long run. It would kill her to give him up, but she would do anything to save him from those who could never understand.

Her vow was tested ten minutes later when a knock came at the door and her son stiffened, his head coming up as he obviously scented the air. Eilidh hoped they would have at least a night's reprieve, but hadn't counted on it when meeting Deaton so she wasn't surprised.

No, the surprise was who stood at the door: Talia Hale, Ismene's daughter and Alpha in training.