Author's Note:
So here we have a new story for Scott and co involving cats, secrets, deaths and loves. The usual for our puppies! Anyway a quick note for Spoilers of Season 3: I do not have Jill returning from the dead like the show did! End Spoiler. Enjoy the story!
Werewolves, sure.
Were coyotes, guess so.
Banshees, why not.
Kitsunes, whatever.
Druids, of course.
Kanimas, oh please.
Nogistunes, fine.
Werecats, wait what?
Scott McCall sprinted through the forest at top speed. He sped over the dead branches and curling leaves, leaving faint footprints behind him. His red eyes glowing as they took in the inky night bright as day. His ears ticked this way and that, hearing the footfalls of his pack. The strange pack that he had somehow pulled together.
It had been three months since they had defeated the Nogistune.
Three months since Aiden had died.
Three months since Allison had been killed.
Three months since they had learned Danny knew of their secret.
Three months since Scoot had discovered Isaac had vanished off the face of the planet.
Three months since Chris Argent had disappeared only leaving Stiles with an emergency phone number.
Three months since his father had decided to stay in town, claiming to want to reunite with his family.
Three months since hell had calmed down.
Of course, Beacon Hills never stayed calm for long, being they had activated a supernatural beacon in the forest.
A beacon that was the Nemeton, a giant tree cut down in the middle of the forest. It drew every supernatural creature in the bestiary to Beacon Hills. Creatures that Scott and his pack had to defeat.
Of course Scott's pack wasn't only werewolves. He had the might of Beacon Hills' supernatural defenders at his back.
Derek, an omega then Alpha and now Beta werewolf that acted as Scott's third in command. He was a born werewolf and due to a tragedy had cost his soul, turning his eyes blue. He was the most experienced and deadly out of the werewolves.
Ethan was one half of the twins that used to be Alphas and had threatened Scott. He now ran alongside Scoot and his friends. He had tried to become his ally and Scott had seen he was truly loyal. After the loss of his brother Aiden, Scott had expected him to rage and run off. Instead Ethan had stayed.
The three wolves were not the only supernatural warriors however. Lydia was a banshee. A beautiful smart girl in Scott's class that had been attacked by Peter, Derek's uncle, also a werewolf. Scott had expected her to become a werewolf, however the bite had not turned or killed her. Instead it had awakened a weird power to know death beforehand and to track the victims to their death site.
Stiles was Scott's best friend and second in command. The reason that Scott was a werewolf thanks to his snooping in police business. He was the pack's resident Druid. The wise detective with no supernatural powers and yet could outwit any supernatural creature. Recently freed by the Nogistune, Stiles had become training under Dr. Deaton, another Druid to become better equipped with fighting alongside his friends.
Scott looked to his left and saw Kira flying over downed trees and slipping through narrow standing ones. She was a kistune, specifically one who controlled lightning. She had moved here eight months ago, unaware of her supernatural heritage that had been passed down from her mother. That is until the Nogistune had arrived. She had learned much from her mother in using her abilities and her katanna which was strapped across her back. She was agile and her aura that Scott saw glowed bright in the shape of a fox. Her spirit self had awakened and was glad to stretch across the forest.
All of them, three wolves, a kistune, a banshee and a druid were all flying across the night forest. The moon above them was three quarters full and shone beautifully on top of them. The pack had learned of a new creature stalking the night only a month ago. It was strange and unusual, expected for Beacon Hills. However a week ago during the full moon had been when they got their first full look at her.
She had been beautiful, tall curvy and fierce. She had hissed at them, flicking ears above her long brunette mane. Her eyes had glowed an incredible electric green. Completely different from the yellow eyes of a Beta, the red of an Alpha or the blue of an innocent killer. Her nails were more refined, long but polished and thin, unlike the wolves. Theirs were thick and shorter. They also had hair grow along their face and their nose reshaped. The girl had no hair and no new bone structure. She had a slightly more pointed nose and delicate needle tipped fangs. The wolves were thick and curling, monstrous.
The sight had terrified even Derek who had never seen anything like it. That scared Scott to no end, how could Derek, the born werewolf with all his knowledge of supernatural creatures not know of this thing? After Stiles had researched it in the bestiary, they had discovered it was a werecat. The same qualities that werewolves had this werecat had as well.
Incredible healing? Check.
Incredible strength, speed and reflexes? Check.
Could change another person via a bite? Check.
Pissed off and angry as hell? Definitely check.
After scaring it off, the pack had been looking for it since the full moon last week every night. Nothing had come up until tonight however as Scott caught a whiff of the scent.
It was sweet and sickening. Like too much of lemon or strawberries, nice at first, but the more you inhaled the worse it became. Scott had howled and his pack now followed him down the quickly fading trail.
They leaped over a ditch were Malia, the werecoyote had stayed and Scott's mind trailed back. It had been tough involving her in school again and helping her realize the supernatural side of Beacon Hills but she was a quick learner. Already in the past seven months she had jumped three grades and now starting as a freshman in September. He was happy for her. Happy that he was able to help her through her transformations and abilities. In a way helping her helped him. He was a True Alpha and he had learned to act like one. That included keeping her away from the fight as well. Her father was overprotective and paranoid about killing anything that moved on four legs. He knew that until things settled down, he had to keep Malia on the sidelines.
He ducked under a tree and slid to a stop where the Nemeton was and groaned. The scent faded into oblivion from here out. No matter what he told his friends, his parents and Malia, in Beacon Hills, things never settled down.
In Beacon Hills there was always hell waiting to spit some demon out at you.
