The basement of the Hale house felt like a distant memory once the three of them emerged from the tunnels leading from beneath the house and to a gated slope just a few hundred yards from the front porch. Riley's feet felt unsteady, clasped within her strappy heels as they dug into the plantation beneath them. She walked between Derek and Scott, a dense cloud of silence hovering above them as they idled in the front yard of the home. Derek was clothed now, his shirt torn just below the curve of his ribs as her fingers toyed with the chiffon hem of her dress.
Despite being out in the open, with nothing but trees surrounding them for miles, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the safest place she could be. Beside two werewolves who she knew would protect her at all costs . . . Even against a hunter and an Alpha. But Derek was on their side now, tired of running when it came to facing Kate Argent, because perhaps after all these years it was hard to face the one person responsible for the loss he sustained. Kate had shifted the world beneath his feet, altering the once steady foundation he walked among into something ragged and cracked. Like looking into her charming blue eyes somehow brought back the memory, falling back into the depths of horror he'd once locked away. Seeing her face made the familiar scent of charred wood waft back into his lungs. It made the desperate cries from his family ricochet through his ears. Seeing her made the heat of the fire linger on the back of his neck, leaving his mouth dry and his palms sweaty. Kate Argent was the only person he still somehow felt terrified of, not wanting her wrath to fall upon anyone in this town ever again.
And Peter, who'd lured his sister here with the premeditated murderous idea evolving from his twisted thoughts left him disgusted. The only remaining family he had left, yet he still could not trust him. It was as if the world were working against him, wanting him to feel the wretchedness that his life had to offer. And with two people like them, filled with rage and vengeance, Derek knew that somewhere safe was not here.
He could see the blue Jeep up ahead, parked within the depth of the tree-line. Something instinctive collected in his actions as his hand suddenly wrapped around the top of Riley's arm as he lead her forward. It startled her, looking to him with a frantic and questioning squint of her eye as her legs struggled to keep up with his long strides. "I want you to get in this car," he demanded without eye contact, reaching for the handle of the Jeep as he opened it for her, "And drive home."
It was a demand unlike any other, because something within his tone suggested that maybe she wouldn't get the chance to later. His grip was forceful as he guided her into the front seat, but gentle once his grasp loosened and his palm ghosted over her skin in a light, quick stroke. Riley felt puzzled, her mind rewiring his words to make them sound like a threat. She'd risked her safety to come and find him, only to have him bark orders at her to leave. Scott shuffled back and forth a few dozen feet behind, his eyes raking over the darkness as if he were sure something lethal stalked in it's shadows.
The keys to the Jeep were still in the ignition, and even after Derek had released her and taken a step back to close the door, she found that she could not make herself flip it's switch.
Derek stood beside the drivers side door, the window open as he gave her a stern glare to get the hell out of there. "I can't just leave—" she tried to stammer, but found it hard to work out the words with a lump in her throat.
"Your friends need you." He reminded, his green eyes softening the slightest bit as he nodded his head. "Make sure Lydia's okay."
His suggestion assured her that the red head would need someone to lean on, despite not knowing the turnout of Peter's bite. Some people just weren't made for that kind of power . . . Sometimes the bite could do more harm than good. "We don't have much time." Scott announced from behind, straining his ears in hopes that he'd be able to hear anyone's quick approach.
The feeling within the pit of her stomach agreed, that something was coming and it wouldn't be safe. If Kate Argent and Peter Hale were both on their way here, she knew the two would eventually meet . . . Face to face after six years of vengeance bubbling up inside them. And without much thought, she had her money on Peter. An Alpha with cause, having murdered anyone involved in the Hale fire, she knew he wouldn't hesitate to slit the throat of its ring leader.
But Kate had tactic, patience and a whole hell of a lot of practice when it came to hunting werewolves. Her arsenal of weapons were lethal to a creature like him, Derek and Scott . . . Which is why Riley felt so compelled to stay. Surely she would not think twice about putting a bullet into any of their heads, but Scott and Derek's safety were not a promised thing as soon as she left this place. Which is why she couldn't go. The fear that radiated through her bones was visible to Derek now as he studied her a bit closer. Seeing her flesh pucker with chills and quiver reminded him of why she needed to get as far away from here as she could. She was terrified, and people sometimes made dumb decisions out of fear. He wouldn't be able to protect her if she stayed, not against Kate, not against Peter, and certainly not against himself.
And there was something bobbing in the dark well of his isolated soul, something grasping for light. It was her. It was the will to live ebbing in the dim wake of war. He wanted her to live. He wanted her to be the one to make it out of this, because he owed her as much. Because out of anyone that could have come for him, it had been her. Riley Haven. A sudden pain embedded into his left thigh then, his knees buckling at the force before gripping the door frame for support. Riley flinched, seeing his knuckles turn white with the amount of strength he forged to hold himself upright.
A heavy huff of air slipped from between his clenched teeth, his features now squinted up into an expression brimming with an unimaginable ache. Without thinking, Riley reached out her hand to grip his once his body swayed, his feet fumbling over one another as he yanked his hand out from beneath hers, leaning into the hood of the Jeep to keep his balance. "Son of a b—" His tone was breathless and mid gasp when from the corner of Riley's eye, she saw something fly past the open window and imbed itself into Derek's chest.
A slim and long stick protruded from the right side of his torso, feeling her hands grip the open edge of the window with tightened knuckles. Her first thought should have been to stay in the car, to perhaps cower in the open floor space below the seat of the Jeep . . . But her nerves did not follow through. Shoving the door open with as much force as she could, she found herself in the direct line of open fire as Derek slumped from the hood of the car and to the grassy terrain below.
He wheezed shallowly as his hand rose to rake over the arrow's burrowed in his thigh and chest. The arrow heads that tore through his muscle must have been poisoned, feeling a lingering burn of wolfsbane seep into his flesh. Though pain struck and disoriented, his eyes met Rileys as she stood before him, arms at her sides and plump lips parted in disbelief. Her hands twitched, as if she wanted to reach for him. As if she was so sure she could get him into the Jeep fast enough, before another arrow sped their way.
His eyes, unfocused and rapidly searching, fell upon the tree-line over Riley's shoulder. Two figures lingered in it's shadow, a bulbous metal tipped arrow being drawn back by a skilled archer. "Scott!" Derek's voice lurched loudly to the Beta a few dozen feet away, "Cover your eyes!"
The archer released the flash bulb, hearing it wheeze forward in a haste filled hiss.
It was directed toward him again, defenselessly spread across his back as he recounted it's trajectory over and over as if it were hurling forward in slow motion. At it's speed and direction, it was bound to clip the girl towering over him's shoulder. With a quick and firm grasp, Derek reached his arm out to encircle Riley's wrist, yanking her down to her knees just as the arrow soared over her head. Shaken by the sudden happenings, Riley felt her body conform to his will. Her bare knees sunk into the debris flooded ground, bending at the waist once Derek's hand left her wrist and wrapped around her shoulders, shielding her eyes from the bright burst of light that ignited once the flash bulbed arrow struck a nearby tree. Flash bulbs were a necessary tactic used by hunters to blind their prey. The flash of light would overwhelm their retinas, leaving them disoriented for a short amount of time.
Riley's head was wedged between Derek's shoulder and his hand. His palm cradled the back of her neck, her eyes shut so incredibly tight until his hold on her slackened, sitting up slightly as she peeked over at Scott McCall. His arms were over his eyes, his face squinted together as the brightness dimmed down enough to focus. Riley rolled back onto the heels of her feet, allowing Derek room to breathe as her eyes raked their surrounding in a panic. And as she looked over her shoulder, too petrified to move from her knees, she saw two women stalk forward.
The face of the older woman was cold and lacking mercy. Her sandy blonde hair bounced with each confident step forward. But it was the girl beside her, still baby faced and unsure at Kate Argent's side that caught Riley's eye. And in return, the brunette and doe—eyed teenager looked back at her, stumbling over her feet as she kept up with her aunt's pace. "You told me no one else would be here." Allison Argent whispered in a surprised and conflicted hiss.
Kate huffed, rolling her eyes as they traveled closer to the three of them. "I told you there wouldn't be any innocents." Her aunt corrected her, as a swell of anger pulsed above her throat. Her statement made Allison wonder what involvement Riley had in this, cowering beside a werewolf. It wasn't until an hour ago that Kate spilled their family history to her, pinning the blame of thousands of deaths on the supernatural. And even as Allison's eyes reverted from Riley's to Scott's, watering at the sight of him after finally knowing the truth. Having been the bunt of so many lies, used to cover Scott's secrets, she felt her jaw tense with realization, knowing someone she'd trusted and loved unconditionally wasn't who she'd expected.
Feeling Derek's skin rattle as a growl sifted from his thinly pressed lips, her impulsive nature shifted closer to him, perched on her knees beside his hips, never taking her eyes off of Kate. "Al—Allison." Scott's voice was tender as he raised his palms up to face her, it was as if he were surrendering, hoping that by doing so, the barrel of Kate's pistol would lower from his general direction. "Whatever she told you . . ." He stammered as the two women halted their advance just a few dozen feet from them, "I—I can promise you it's not the whole truth."
"At least it's something." Allison remarked, tears flooding her eyes as she firmly gripped the bow at her side. A sling of arrows were strewn over her shoulder, one quick snag away if she needed to draw one forward. "But you, Scott," she accused, "you lied about everything." Kate's head tilted in agreement, steadying her pistol with a perfect aim on the boy before them. "You—You're a—" the words couldn't even leave her mouth, biting the inside of her cheeks as her limbs vibrated with anxious thoughts.
"Now that that's out of the way," Kate hummed with feigned exhaustion, "Shoot him."
Riley's body perked at her order, her hands curling into tight fists as she balanced her shaking frame against the ground. Kate lowered her gun, looking to her niece with assurance.
Allison stumbled back a step, the bow within her hands growing too entirely heavy at the weight of Kate's demand. "You said we were only going to trap them." The teenaged Argent sputtered, looking between Scott and her aunt with fear stricken eyes.
Kate laughed, "We did!" She reminded with a pearly white smile. Her skin pulled over her high cheeks bones, causing her eyes to wrinkle in the corners. "Now we're going to kill them." With a precise and fluid raise of her arm, Kate Argent aimed her gun at Derek Hale. In that second, Riley felt her stomach lurch into her throat so forcefully that her scream erupted like a breathless gasp. A shrill pop echoed over the treetops, closing her eyes for only a second as she flinched at the sound, feeling Derek's body shift at her side before becoming numbingly still.
It was Allison who met Riley's gaze first, having allowed the wetness that gathered there to finally spill over in incomprehensible fear. This wasn't suppose to be a part of the plan. No one was suppose to die. Riley felt the blood within her veins run cold, too entirely afraid to glance at the man laying at her side. 'He's dead,' she thought logically, replaying those words over and over within her head like an ill minded chant.
Forcing her gaze to broaden, raking her eyes up the length of Derek's limp legs as she skimmed past the arrow in his thigh, up his hips, up his torso to where the second arrow burrowed in his chest, to where she caught sight of his blood soaked shirt below his collar bone. The bullet hadn't made an exit, unknown if this bullet was anything like the one that nearly killed him a month ago. His body was uncomfortably still, feeling her own begin to lock up in terror. And then his chest heaved so suddenly it startled her, a hungry breath tearing from his lungs as he coughed around the groan rising to his lips.
At least he was breathing. "Your turn." Kate acknowledged, looking to her niece for clarification as she scanned her eyes back to Scott McCall. With tears streaking across her porcelain cheeks, Allison's breath became shallow and heavy. She looked at Scott with fear, not because she was afraid of him, but because of what she was afraid Kate would do. "Oh," her aunt sighed, "I know that look." She studied Allison with tactful eyes. "That's the 'I'm gonna have to do it myself' look." She mocked.
The hunter rose her arm again, her pointer finger hovering over the trigger of her Pistol. "Kate—Kate!" Allison seemed to finally regain function of her voice, her tone pleading as she faced her aunt with merciful eyes. "Please, don't!"
This was not what Allison wanted when her Aunt Kate had made it seem as if these monsters weren't capable of peace. Perhaps she second guessed the conviction in Kate's cause. And being new to this world made up of creatures she couldn't fathom existing, she couldn't help but figure that killing them off was not going to resolve anything. And as she glanced to Derek Hale and Riley Haven, she pieced it together that maybe the rumors of her aunt Kate setting fire to the the house they stood before weren't entirely false.
Innocent people had died then . . . And innocent people were going to die now.
"Kate." A more stern and authoritative voice called. Riley's eyes burned as she held back the well threatening to spill over, her head shifting over her shoulder to see a figure emerge from the woods. He was a man, wise despite his younger years. His stance was defensive, his hair peppered with gray as his narrowed and bright blue eyes landed on his sister. "Put the gun down." Chris Argent had tracked his daughter and sister through the woods, knowing Kate's plan to unfold the truth about their families legacy to Allison. The young Argent wasn't ready for that kind of knowledge, nor that kind of weight to carry. Chris assessed the situation with a skillful mind, seeing the Beta wounded off to the side beside Riley, a friend from school that Allison had spoken highly of, and back to his sister. Her gun drawn, directed toward the Beta, Scott McCall, the boy his daughter loved. "I know what you did—"
"I did what I was told to do." Kate spat back towards her brother.
Chris continued forward with small steps, his hands at his sides, not willing to surrender like Scott had. "No one told you to murder innocent people." He elaborated, looking intently at her and to the old flame ridden house behind her. It had taken him six years to believe the rumors of his sisters crime. All this time he'd stuck up for her, unable to believe she would have killed an entire family of innocent werewolves. "There were children in that house," he reminded her of the Hale family lineage, "One's who were human. And look at you now," he held his arm out to acknowledge the scene before him, "You're holding a gun at a sixteen year old boy, with no proof he's spilled human blood." Despite Chris being determined to persuade her, Kate squared her jaw and held the gun with a much firmer grip. "We go by the code," he reminded, "Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent."
It was a familiar language to Riley, a crisp and flawless translation of French, but the formation of words could not be put together in her mind, too full of undeniable fear and panic. "You remember the code still, don't you?" Chris interrogated her, but Kate refused to take her eyes off the young Beta. "We hunt those who hunt us." He finally murmured when his sister would not respond. It dawned on him that his sister must have lost her morality years ago.
Without realizing it, Riley gently brushed her hand along Derek's ribs, feeling for the slight inflation of air as a sign that he was still breathing. His skin, despite it being cold, slowly rose and sunk in sputtering heaves. Her rigid fingers curled at the idea of him dying, especially near his childhood home, a chilling scene to an even more heinous crime. "Put the gun down, Kate." He ordered once more. Having lead their family through strenuous hunts across the world, he felt as if he had some form of authority over her. But Kate had never been the kind to follow direction. With a quick arm, Chris Argent swept his own gun from his holster, aiming it just over his sisters shoulder and pulled the trigger. "Or I'll put you down."
It was a warning shot, hearing the bullet ricochet against the bark of the tree aligned behind her. He let it be known that he would not stand for such cruelty, especially to someone as young as Scott McCall. The example Kate lead was not who he wanted his daughter to follow. Someone so callous and brutal could not be allowed to teach the younger generations of hunters. Allison deserved better than that. And maybe there was a part of Kate, small and microscopical, that knew that too. Kate hadn't been born a murderer . . . She'd been brainwashed to be.
With a square jaw and shaking hand, she lowered her gun from Scott's direction.
And despite the worst part thought to be over, there was no relief once she'd dropped her weapon to her feet and Scott's hunched frame had straightened. With the threat of murder dissolving before Riley's eyes, she still felt this undeniable fear radiate within her chest. And as Derek slowly started to come to, his eyes opening into pain filled slits, she was still unsure of his fate. If Derek could survive being gutted by Peter Hale, surely he could survive this too, right? She wasn't sure, and as the panic continued to swarm the inside of her mind, Derek's lips tugged the smallest bit at the corner. If she hadn't already been focused on the trickle of blood gathering there, she wouldn't have seen it. But it was there, and she took it as a sign that he could sense the concern flooding from her body. Her palm still cupped the smooth curve of his ribs, feeling the indents align with the spaces between her fingers each time he exhaled to his lungs full extent. He was focusing on healing himself, willing the cells within his body to merge together and reform his wounds.
A hauntingly low creak of the front door to the Hale house sounded then, drawing the attention of all six off them as their eyes skimmed over it's dark depth. "What is that?" Riley voiced, her throat sore and her tone clouded in fear.
Through the haze of the front door, something shifted, but her eyes were not as heightened as Scott or Derek's. "The Alpha." Derek wheezed. Though still visibly pained, he scooted forward until he could balance the weight of his shoulders onto his elbows.
"Get behind me." Chris reached for his daughter, Allison, stepping before her with a drawn gun.
Scott turned as well, baring his teeth alongside his glowing yellow eyes. His stance was protective and brave, his nails elongating into claws in preparation for a fight. Kate bent back down to retrieve her gun, pointed firmly upon the gaping door of the home she'd burned down.
With shaking limbs, Derek brought himself into a seated position, following the small command in the back of his head telling him he needed to get up and fight. His fist rose, encircling the feathery end of the arrow embedded into his chest. Riley watched, her hand still unintentionally on him, as she watched him grit his teeth and flare his nostrils. And with a quick shake of his head, erasing the pain from his thoughts as if it were not real, he snapped the body of the arrow in half before tossing the end of it to the side.
A groan snaked its way up his throat just as Riley heard Chris fire a warning shot at the Alpha stalking them. Riley and Derek shared a desperate glance with one another, knowing what was bound to happen next. Peter Hale emerged from the Hale home, a guttural snarl directed at the Argents as the Alpha narrowly dodged another bullet. Riley remained planted beside Derek off to the side, her human eyes unable to keep up with the speed in which Peter ran circles around Kate, Chris, Allison and Scott.
And with another steady and hallow breath, Derek gripped the arrow planted within his thigh, cursing under his breath before tearing it out completely this time. The metal and ragged edge of the arrow head was a deep crimson color, the rusted scent of blood filling the space between. them. A grunt from up ahead caught their attention, seeing the limp body of Chris Argent skid back over a dozen feet before landing in a grassy patch of terrain unconscious. Allison cried out, short and shrill before Peter finally came to a halt.
Kate's gun was poised, finger perched over the trigger as Peter enclasped her wrist within his clawed hand, bending her arm to such an odd angle, Riley was sure it had to of broke, as he jerked the direction of the barrel off of him. A small downpour trickled in from the north then, a slow and steady rhythm as Peter curved his palm along the base of Kate's throat and dragged her forward. "No!" Allison huffed, rising to her feet. Riley watched Kate thrash against the hold of Derek's uncle until they both disappeared through the front door of the Hale house and into it's darkness.
The brave and younger hunter, Allison, followed behind willingly. Despite the life of her aunt being in the hands of a werewolf, she lurched forward as Scott McCall trailed after.
A silence so incredibly eerie fell upon Riley and Derek, the two remaining outside as the fight moved in doors. Struggling to uphold his weight at first, Derek stumbled to his feet in a determined manor. "Where are you going?" Riley's eyes widened, her knee's aching as she rolled back onto her feet to stand along side him.
Instinctively she kept her hand flattened along the tops of his ribs, below the pit of his arm to keep him steady. Derek's gaze was transfixed on his old home, looking at the space where Scott had just slipped through. "Making sure he doesn't die." He murmured.
Reluctantly, Riley dropped her hand as she leaned back into the heels of her shoes. Derek's fists unraveled to show his clawed fingers then, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest like a vengeful growl. Her skin was drenched in a passing chill as she watched his green eyes fade into a glowing blue, his teeth sharpening as he shifted into the monster that he often times kept caged. And Riley had to let him go, because if Derek couldn't even keep the creature at bay, how could she? She watched as he straightened his form, squaring his shoulders before stalking off into the same depths her friends had a minute prior.
It wasn't until he disappeared inside too, that she finally felt the brunt of how cold it was. Still cast within her winter formal dress, she couldn't help the shiver guiding its way up her spine. Her palms raked over her smooth arms, hoping the friction would warm her enough to find the will to move. It took motivation that she didn't quite have, forcing her feet to break from their stance and carry her forward. The slight incline of the hill kept the burn within her calves alive, as if the small ache was a sign that she was still breathing.
Despite her shallow huffs for air, she didn't feel alive. She felt defeated.
Swallowing the fear developing in the back of her mouth, she paused a few feet away from where Chris Argent remained unconscious. Allisons father was a good looking man, lean and built in a way that most fathers weren't. His years of active hunting in the supernatural world had kept him young, despite being forty years old. Riley tore her gaze away from Chris then, hearing a slow retreat sound from the heel of Allison's boots. She stumbled back out from the front door, the house illuminated by the full moon, as she shakily descended the porch steps. Riley met her at the bottom, her hands clasping around her friends arms as Allison leaned into her with tear stricken eyes. "He killed her." She breathed as she hid her face in the crook of Riley's neck. Her arms wound around her friends shoulders in return.
Allison shuddered at the touch, a sob tearing from her lips as Riley's skin muffled her cries. He'd killed her, Riley replayed Allison's words. Peter Hale had killed Kate Argent before Allison's very eyes. Wanting to sympathize with her, having experienced death first hand, Riley couldn't bring herself to comfort her with words. The woman who terrorized and killed innocent people wasn't breathing . . . And if she wasn't breathing, that meant her reign of terror was over.
A scuffle sounded from the open door, the undeniable brittle snap of glass breaking and wood splintering. If Kate was dead, that meant that perhaps Peter still wasn't satisfied. That maybe as the Alpha, his thirst for vengeance was insatiable.
The fight ensuing had since awoken Chris Argent, rising to his feet with an aching frame as he took over the role as comforting father. Riley took a step back, but her feet paused once she found that he too, kept a tender palm on her shoulder. It was a touch she hadn't expected, not having felt the kind gesture of a father in a long time. She figured that beneath that hard exterior of a skilled hunter, was a gentle and stoic build of a loving father.
Startled by the window to the front of the house suddenly imploding, Riley watched as Scott McCall was ejected from it like a rag doll. And as he was strewn across the green field of what was once the Hale's front yard, she watched the unforgettable silhouette of the Alpha emerge after him. Chris Argent tugged Riley closer, willingly placing himself between the beast and the two girls as Riley strained to see over his shoulder. The phased version of Peter Hale had left her with nightmares after the incident at the school. It left her sleepless and paranoid as if she needed to live her life continuously looking over her shoulder. Maybe after this, she would always have to.
This phased version of Peter was bi—pedal, but stood on it's back legs as it towered over Scott McCall by a good four feet. It's burley frame was not now Hollywood portrayed it in their movies. This monster was vicious . . . It was cruel. It seeked vengeance in unforgiving ways. The Alpha's muzzle was pulled back with it's fangs bare, snarling as Scott McCall rose to his feet in a slight sway. But even it's snarl could not compare to it's hollow and careless red eyes.
The Alpha was suddenly hurled forward, caught off guard as Derek swung from the railing of the porch awning, using the force of his own body to kick the beast off of it's feet. And in the time it took for the creature to regain it's composure, Scott and Derek stood side by side to face it again. They refused to give up on Peter and his relentless ways, because if they did not serve as the protectors of Beacon Hills, they couldn't imagine how many more deaths would become of Peter's rage.
And as if bravery were second nature to them, Derek and Scott sprinted forward with glowing eyes, rigid claws and threatening growls. Joining together in the cause against a brutal force. Seeing the violent nature of these creatures up close, Riley found it conflicting that she could not look away. Trailing her eyes on the way both Scott and Derek circled around Peter, tearing into the creature with the hopes of winning. But instead of a prize of sorts, they'd be winning the undervalued liberty of peace. Of not fearing the shadows or who walked among them. They'd be winning the opportunity to live their lives, to grieve their loses and start again.
Chris Argent could see the Beta's losing at the hands of Peter, their bodies torn and blood soaked, their will to fight still pouring from them with all that they had left. He assessed the situation from a distance, his skillful mind concluding a solution that would allow these Beta's to live. He took a step forward, reaching for Allison's abandoned bow just a few feet away. He handed it to her with a stern nod, his eyes insisting that she follow his lead.
Riley stepped back, watching as Allison pulled an arrow from the sling across her back and drew it sharply at her fathers silent request. Riley watched with curious eyes, knowing an arrow would not be enough to hinder someone like Peter Hale. The sharp end of the arrow remained balanced above her pointer finger, her other hand holding the feathery end of it back in a steady line. Chris reached into the pocket of his jacket, retrieving a silver trinket from it's depths. He flipped the lip of it with his thumb, a small flame rupturing from its sprout. His expression was hard and assertive, extending his hand until the lighter idled just beneath the metal—carved arrowhead. The flames gathered at it's wooden base, fueled by the flammable adhesive used to create the arrows by hand. Allison felt the fire as it teased her knuckles with it's warmth. "Focus." Chris whispered to her.
The glow from the fire brought the brawl to a standstill then, all eyes on Allison as she steadily released the flame enthralled arrow towards the beast. The Alpha snarled, raising its arms to shield it's eyes, exposing it's belly to the fast approaching weapon aimed by the young archer. The head of the arrow lodged into it's side, a howl so high pitched echoing through the night as Riley covered her ears with her hands. She closed her eyes once the flames engulfed Peter's body, shutting out the sound of his wailing as the smell of burning flesh wafted through the air. It was in this second that Riley wished she'd never pried when it came to the truth. If not for her unnerving curiosity, she wouldn't be baring witness to this.
It had only taken a few moments for the fire to consume him before dying out. She peeked once more from behind Chris Argent's shoulder, seeing the charred un-phased body of Peter Hale. He lay upon the debris flood ground, smoke rising from him like a breath on a cold winter night.
Looking to Derek, who had his back to her before moving forward in a ghost—like manner, he hovered over the burned, but lively, remains of his uncle. A traumatic sight to see given the previous demise of his entire family. Riley stepped out of the protective stance of Chris' body, moving forward on her feet's own accord as she stood beside Scott, bloodied and beaten as his body furiously began to heal him from the inside out.
Reverting her gaze back to Derek, kneeling beside his uncle as his took his final breaths. Being engulfed in flames for the second time, he was cognoscente enough to sense the feelings of his nephew. "You're. . ." Peter stammered through charred and chapped lips, "still afraid . . . of me." Wheezing through his slowing breaths, it was his final attempt at insinuating Derek would always be the weaker of the two.
But Derek did not feel afraid, for the first time in a long while, he felt relieved.
He could easily have let Peter pass away, and he'd never give his murderous uncle a second thought . . . But he wanted more than that. Derek wanted justice for his sister and for the power that was stolen from her. He did not want Peter to die with the alpha status he so wrongfully stole. Leadership was determined by werewolf lineage . . . If Laura hadn't been murdered, it would have rightfully fallen on Derek.
And maybe this one thing was all he really had left of his sister. A way of honoring not only her, but the family that had perished six years prior. A low growl sifted through his stubbled cheeks, his hands becoming rigid as claws formed from the short beds of his nails. Without a second thought, Derek rose his arm above his head before coming down in one smooth swipe as his claws glided across Peter's neck. A thin slit formed from ear to ear, his jaw hardening as the hateful glimmer in his uncles eyes subsided.
Something strange happened then, feeling a surge of power flood his veins before burrowing in his chest. It was the transfer of leadership, the passing of Alpha status from one werewolf to another, only transferable through the death of one. Like a cluster of weight thumping against his ribs, pushing his heart aside to make room for its presence, Derek felt his control slip slightly, finding it harder than usual to swallow the monster tearing it's way up his throat.
Was this was being a leader felt like now? Being so . . . hollow?
Derek raked his eyes over the lifeless frame of his uncle, the last surviving relative he had before rising to his feet. The ache he'd felt earlier, from the wounds inflicted by Kate, they were gone now. As if the creature inside him had thicker skin. He turned to face the others, lingering back and forth between Scott and Riley. A coil of power tugged behind his eyes, shifting the gentle shade of green to a searing and angry red. "I'm the Alpha now."