It was a mass blur of confusion and pained screeches as Lydia hid under a bush, looking at the commotion. Scott and Allison were trying to overpower both Ethan and Aiden at once, while Cora, Isaac and Derek fought together to defend themselves against Kali.
Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest any moment. The whole thing had started the previous night. Stiles was alone at his place as his father was working the night-shift. Deucalion and his Alpha pack had taken the one thing that Scott couldn't live without; his best friend, his brother, away from him. And now, Lydia had to stop Scott from sacrificing himself, and save Stiles.
Stiles. She thought. How could she ever let him stay alone the whole night? How could she be so stupid? But all of her thoughts were interrupted when a sudden gust of wind hit her on the back.
She turned around to see Scott's eyes glowing red. But... it was a different kind of red. Brighter than anything else she had ever seen. For a moment, everything seemed to stop at once. All the fighting, all the slashing, ripping, came to a stop. Ethan, Aiden and Kali were looking at Scott as though they couldn't believe their eyes. And unbelievably, their faces were mingled with horror. The trio fled from the spot in less than a second.
Lydia couldn't understand what had just happened, but there were more pressing matters. All of them ran to the warehouse behind the bushes.
It was the creepiest building Lydia had ever set foot in. The whole place looked like it hadn't been cleaned in forty years. But what she saw next made her forget everything; Stiles was lying on the floor, gasping, and his face was mingled with sweat and tears.
Something burst inside of Lydia. She didn't know what it was, but it automatically made her move towards Stiles. But there was someone else who was quicker than her. Someone who shoved past her and reached Stiles first.
Lydia felt like her legs were glued to the floor. She couldn't move one muscle. Yet, this was not a reaction appropiate for the occasion; there they were, Cora hanging on to Stiles for dear life and weeping on his shoulder as Stiles rubbed circles on her back, breathing heavily, trying to shake off the panic attack that had happened only moments earlier.
To Lydia's intense surprise, she felt her eyes burn. 'Maybe it's just because I'm happy that he's alive', she thought.
But her heart was aching and she hated the feeling, hated the small voice at the back of her that told her that this was exactly how Stiles had felt when he had witnessed the girl of his dreams embracing someone else, so many months ago, but most of all, she hated the possibility that maybe she had started loving him from the moment he had stopped loving her. She turned back and walked away. Lydia was too late.
